Our Dumb Blog

April, 1995

Definitely get into the camping thing. I’m convinced it’s about the most fun a person can have on this earth, with the possible exception of skiing. Then again, I haven’t experienced skydiving, hang-gliding, or, well, other things… Camping strips life down to the necessities. And you’ll be surprised at how few (or from a different perspective, many) things are actually needed.Just remember that it’s okay to get dirty, because you will.

Ah, yes. The campaign. It was fun. With the advent of challengers also throwing their hats into the ring, Cris Hyatt and I went into campaign mode. We made lots of posters and fliers, especially little ones to go on the back of stall doors in the restrooms (Now that we’ve got you sitting down, vote for Cris, Joanna, and Robyn for Junior Class officers!” and “Take the plunge! Vote…” or “Quit stalling, VOTE…”). We constructed a top ten list of reasons to vote for us (Sympathy; They look snazzy in chicken costumes; You’ll be sorry when they win Publisher’s Clearing House sweepstakes; It’ll make Uncle Newt very happy; They spent all this time coming up with a stupid poster to amuseyou!) and situated it in the most trafficked section of the main hallway. I made up a flier on the computer, and Dad printed out 200 copies for me. As one guy said, “I can’t go ten feet without seeing one or your signs! They’re even in the men’s bathroom!”

That was courtesy of Nathan. Our competitors put up tons of signs as well, however. There were hundreds more signs for junior class elections than for any other race for office.

The half week of voting came, a week later than scheduled, and we were in a joyous mood. We really didn’t care anymore. It had just been fun putting signs up everywhere. The results were to announced at the Spring Banquet the Saturday after elections. Cris was going, but I wasn’t. I’m not really a Spring Banquet kind of person.

One Monday I accosted Cris emerging from her 9 a.m. class. “Well?” I inquired.

“I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” she said. “What?”

“I won!”

“And?”

“And… Robyn won!” That was kind of expected, since Robyn was running unopposed.

“And?”

“And you didn’t win,” she added apologetically. “But Chris Rischer won!” He is probably the best hope UM has had for a executive president that will get things done in a long time. We had been informally campaigning for him as well as for ourselves.

“And he said that there are some other positions that are appointed,” Cris continued. “I’m going to see if they need someone like you to be the commuter representative.”

Ah, well. The problem is that UM is mainly a commuter school (over half of students do not live on campus) and the ones who do never come to any of the school functions. Maybe it’s just Generation X, but we saw our campaign as a way to make a difference in what happens and what gets done. The good part is that Cris wasn’t going to run until I agreed to do it with her. She will be a great junior class president. I really ‘t think of anyone better suited for the job. She knows EVERYONE, and she’s really concerned about the current SGA doing nothing. I’m sure my hard work in the campaign helped get her elected.

It was fun while it lasted. I guess I’ve learned from the experience (don’t run against someone who’s popular), and now I can look forward to free Tuesday nights next semester.

It’s funny. In the past, I’ve wondered about putting campaign signs up. I’ve scoffed at candidates who spend big money saturating the area with signs that tell the average voter no more than the name of the candidate and what he’s running for. I mean, I know who’s running. What I want to know is how candidates stand on the issues. I’ve always thought that candidates must be extremely arrogant to think that voters will cast their ballots according to the greatest number of placards they count on the way to the polls. Yet, there I was, doing exactly the same thing thinking, if only we have enough signs up, maybe people will vote for us. Perhaps it is because no one normally votes in elections at school. I didn’t vote last year, but that was because I didn’t even know when the election was. I take some solace knowing that many of our signs had clever sayings on them.

Cris says, “Rah rah ree! Vote for me!”

Okay, so maybe some of them weren’t so clever.

My grandmother who had a stroke is improving, even though it doesn’t look like it most of the time. She can now walk to the end of the driveway and back (about 600 feet) with her cane. She can also maneuver around the house fairly well and use the bathroom by herself (a big plus). Her right hand continues to be totally useless, and when she’s standing, she has to balance herself with her cane. That means that we have to do pretty much everything for her. She still has a lot of trouble speaking, though she can usually get out what she’s trying to say after a while.

I was walking down the driveway with my grandmother one day. It felt good to be outside, but this duty was taking me away from other things. I didn’t say anything. She started to speak, “Do you resent the intrusion of…” Her voice trailed off. She tried again but was stuck on the next word. She tried inserting “Buster,” “corporation,” and something else that I couldn’t make out, but she was never able to finish the sentence. I’m glad that she didn’t. I know what she was probably going to say, “Do you resent the intrusion of your life by a disabled person like me?” or something to that effect. I didn’t want her to finish the question because I didn’t want to answer it. Yes, I resent her being here. I resent that she had a stroke, that Mom has had to care for her, that it has turned our world on end, that I have to do extra things for her. It’s awful to feel like that, I know. I don’t want to have such an ugly attitude. But it’s a lot harder than I ever thought it would be. I’m afraid I haven’t been very honoring to my grandparent.

Mom has not been fun to be around lately. I don’t know if it’s because of the extra burden of caring for her mother or what. We try to not be around her as much as possible. I’m looking forward to spending the summer in Colorado and getting out of this house of chaos.

School has been going great. I’ve got a 90.08 average in chemistry, just barely an A! Hopefully, I can hang on to that till the end of the semester. I got a 110 on my Russian midterm. I guess she liked the bogus names I made up for the bonus. Sociology makes me mad. My professor sees capitalism as a fungus. That’s why I’m a functionalist. I think everything in society plays a function. That’s opposed to being a conflict theorist (i.e. Marxist), which my teacher seems to be. Argh.

I’ve got my schedule for next semester filled out already. Looks like I’ll be taking History and Politics of Modern Russia (the first half of the course I’m taking now), Comparative Government (taught by the same lady from Russia who teaches the history class), Classical Political Theory (Plato’s Republic, etc…), Ethics, European and Russian Literature (taught by the most excellent professor in the whole world–Dr. Allums), and Intermediate Greek. I am so excited thinking about it all! It’s going to be too much fun, I’m sure. I’ll be taking every political science course available except for 101, which I’ve already had, for my major and Ethics, the only offering of my minor, which is leadership studies. I’ve finished up all my core requirements except foreign language (Greek) and maybe one or two electives, I’m not sure. The literature class is just for fun. Or something.

Well, Stephanie and Nathan (the guy we brought to Colorado with us last summer) are an item now. Nathan virtually lives at our house. That’s kind of good because, even though we annoy the heck out of each other, he and I have become really close friends. Unfortunately, that created some conflict when Stephanie started feeling jealous. It seems to be better now. I guess we’ll work it out. As far as the two of them are concerned, however, they’re getting married as soon as Stephanie graduates from college (she’ll start at the University of Mobile in the fall). We have two horses now, so they like to spend time riding around the countryside. They went fishing in our lake yesterday and caught a huge big mouth bass. All three of us, along with Jenifer Bennett (from Columbus, Cliff and Doraine’s oldest daughter), will drive up to Colorado to help out with Wings Like Eagles at the Bremer’s again. Nathan says it’s going to be interesting being in a car with three other girls for twelve hundred miles.

Jenifer’s older brother Andrew just got a couple of letters saying that he’s been accepted into the physical therapy program at the University of South Alabama here in Mobile and that the Air Force will pay for three years of his education through ROTC. He’s really excited. We’ll be seeing a lot of him around.

I guess that’s about it.

The Neutral Zone, the bulletin board I spend a good portion of my free time on has its own subculture with its own blend of characters. Several of us go to UM and so have unusual conversations that people around us must think quite odd. We are a Motley crew that socializes despite the odds. I don’t think I would spend much time around any of them if it were not for the common bond of the BBS. For the following conversation to make sense, you must first know something of the participants. Even though we deal with each other in real life, we still address each other by our handles. I am Jonah, of course. There’s
Dick,
younger brother of the Neutral Zone sysop.
Shocka
is his friend with whom I am playing a game of e-mail chess.
Kanji
is a senior who just started up his own board, Ragamuffin BBS.
Kilroy
is in my Russian history class, is a quadriplegic, a non Christian, and an all around interesting person with whom to debate philosophy. We also play chess.

I came out of Russian history from the classroom in the library and started walking across the grass over to my car. Actually, it’s not grass it’s clover, so I bent my head down and shuffled along looking for four leaf clover. Someone called out to me. “Hey Jonah!” I looked up. Kanji, Dick, and Shocka had just pulled up in Kanji’s car. “Did you lose something?” asked Dick leaning out the front window. “Have you lost your mind?” asked Kanji. “I’m looking for four leaf clovers,” I said, abandoning my search to approach them. “Are you a dichotomist?” asked Kanji. “Clover is dicot,” I responded. “What?!” Shocka exclaimed from the back seat. He says that only 50% of what I say makes any sense. This must of been one of those times when it’s the other 50%. “There’s dicots and monocots,” I started. “Oh, a biology nerd!” cut in Dick. “The difference is in vascular bundles.” “I mean your shirt,” said Kanji, looking up from my chest. I was wearing my green shirt with all the different theologies on the front of it. “Oh,” I said realizing what I was wearing for the first time that day after putting it on, “I’m none of those. I’m what it says at the bottom, a plain simple Christian.”

I stood leaning on the car door talking to the three of them about the nonexistent Ragamuffin BBS party that had been planned while Kanji was out of town and subsequently vetoed by him since he was working the night it was scheduled. Kilroy, who was waiting in his motorized wheelchair for his grandfather to come pick him up after Russian had been let out early, was nearby. I beckoned him over and occasionally directed comments to him about the discussion going on inside the car. Kanji eventually cut the car off, ceasing Kilroy’s inhalation of exhaust fumes.

Shocka leaned forward, “We’ve been wondering something,” he enunciated each word like he always does, “Is it more polite to say, ‘May I feel your breast?’ or ‘May I feel your tit?'” I laughed, “Someone asked me once whether it was more polite to call a female a chick or a woman.” “Call ’em a babe,” Dick interjected. “So I said that it depended on who you are addressing,” I continued, “I guess it’s sort of the samething.” “What would you rather be called?” “What do you call me?” I asked. “Jonah.” “That’ll work,” I said. “I never call you by your first name,” Shocka pointed out, “All I know is thatyour middle name begins with E.” “He’s been trying to guess my middle name for the past two weeks,” I explained to the other occupants of the car, “So he’s going to start calling me ‘E’. Like in James Bond? there’s ‘Q’ and ‘M’? Well, I’m ‘E’.” “What is your middle name?” asked Kilroy. “I think I told you once,” I said, “but I can’t tell you in front of Shocka; he’s trying to guess.” “All I have to go on,” continued Shocka, “is Beethoven and ‘fur’.” “It’s a piece by Beethoven,” I explained again, “and it begins with ‘Fur’.” “Fur, fur, fur,” Dick mused. Kanji looked at me blankly. I began to whistle. “I know that!” Dick exclaimed identifying tune emanating from my lips, “Fur Elise!” I nodded. “So, Elise? That’s what it is?” Shocka wore an expression of disgust mixed with relief. “How do you spell that,” inquired Kanji. “Uh,” I had to think for a moment before telling him.

I looked up over the roof of the car to see Chris Shiver and Leo, both attendants of my last day of being a teenager party last year, standing at Chris’ truck. “Hey,” I called to them, “Vote for me. I’m running for vice president of the sophomore class!” “We’re going to be juniors next year,” Chris called back, “But, sure, I’ll vote for you for the sophomore vice president!” “Who’s running for president?” asked someone inside the car. “Cris Hyatt.” “Oh, she’ll win, she’s popular.” “We’re not running for popularity,” I insisted, “We want to change things,like getting Witness to do chapel.” Kanji nodded slightly. He’s a member of Witness, an evangelical music and drama team. “Hey, get coed dorms and I’ll votefor you,” offered Dick. He’s a freshman, so he can’t vote for me anyway.

After a while, Kilroy departed in his specially designed minivan, and the guys invited me inside the crowded car as it started raining. We sat in the middle of the library parking lot discussing body hair.

“Jonah, you always wear jeans,” commented Dick. “They’re cheap, I know, I wear them, but why don’t you ever wear a dress or something?” “Why?” I asked. “We want to see your legs,” he answered bluntly, “You need to live a little.” “I’ll wear a dress on Wednesday,” I said. “Really?” Dick perked up. “I’m a panelist for the Spring Forum,” I said, “I want to look like I know what I’m talking about.” “How long is it?” inquired Dick. “Hour, hour and a half,” I guessed. “I mean the dress,” said Dick. “Oh, it’s long.” Dick looked disappointed, “Why don’t youwear a miniskirt?” “I want to look like I know what I’m talking about,” I repeated, then offered, “I’ll come up to the computer lab with my dress on.”

Last fall Dr. Berry, my religion professor for Intro to the Old Testament called me over after class one day and handed me a sheet of paper. It began, “Theta Alpha Kappa Spring Forum Proposal: Whose Image? Christians and Government. A Panel of 2 students and 2 faculty members will discuss the Christian’s role in government. This includes such issues as Christian citizenship, civil disobedience, and church-state relations.”

“Theta Alpha Kappa, the religious honor society, is having a spring forum in March,” said Dr. Berry. “I’ve asked Dr. Mashburn and Dr. Schaefer to be on the panel. Clark Cameron is a student and has also agreed to do it. Would you be interested in being the other student on the panel?”

Dr. Mashburn is my philosophy teacher, and Dr. Schaefer is my political science instructor and personal advisor. They are two of my very favorite professors at school, and to be on the same panel with them would be a great honor. I agreed.

The weekend before the panel as I pondered what to say, I got a call from Clark Cameron, who I realized was also a member of my philosophy class. He asked me for information about the forum and what I planned to say. On the Tuesday before the forum, Clark, Dr. Mashburn, and I met and discussed what we were going to say. I said that I wanted to discuss the most recent manifestation of the church/state issue–the proposed school prayer amendment.

On Wednesday I arranged for someone else to turn in my chemistry homework since I was skipping because my psychotic professor doesn’t believe in ending class at ten till. That wouldn’t leave me enough time to get over to where the forum was taking place, so I spent that hour practicing my speech and playing the piano in one of the practice rooms in an attempt to calm my nerves.

Finally, it was time to start. I went over to the auditorium where the forum was beingheld. There were several people there already, mostly religion majors. I took a seat in the back near them. Thenwhen it was time, Dr. Berry directed us to the front. Dr. Mashburn, Dr. Schaefer, Clark Cameron, and I took our seats at a table up on stage along with Dr. Berry and the student president of Theta Alpha Kappa, who introduced us. As he was, Mom walked in and took a seat.
I went first. I had worked out what I wanted to say on the computer and then transfered it to note cards like I learned to do in speech class. I probably should have just read what I’d written. I was really nervous. My face was hot, and my hands shook. But I managed to get through without sounding too stupid. I lost track of what I was saying a couple of times. Here’s what I prepared and roughly what I said:

A federal court recently ruled that a picture of Jesus cannot hang in the hallway of a Michigan high school. Just last week the Mobile Press Register reported that prayer still cannot be allowed in public schools. Even student initiated prayers are, as one attorney put it, illegal. All across the nation religion is being censored by the government. What happened to the country which at its birth acknowledged a creator who endowed men with certain unalienable rights? Our motto is “In God We Trust.” The United States was founded by men who knew the importance of religion in government. Benjamin Franklin said, “The longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this truth–that God governs in the affairs of men.”

In the three decades since the Supreme Court ruled that prayer in schools was unconstitutional,the rates of crime, illegitimate births, reported cases of child abuse, and suicide have skyrocketed. It seems that morality has been suppressed along with religion.

The Supreme Court has ruled that prayer, the Ten Commandments, and even God are unconstitutional. Why? Because of the First Amendment’s stipulation that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion.” This supposedly erected a wall of separation between church and state. The founders intendedthat the first amendment protect religion from the government by prohibiting it from establishing a state church. Yet the court turned it around and instead attempted to use it to protect government from religion. The Court used the first amendment as an excuse to remove religion fromthe government.

Now that Republicans control Congress, many people feel that Americans want to return to traditional values to replace the values our culture seems to have forgotten. A great step in this direction would be a Constitutional amendment to once again allow prayer in schools.
There is no good reason why prayer shouldn’t be allowed in schools other than the court fearing religion’s influence on students. And who knows? Prayer in schools might even bring about a reversal downwardtrend of morality in this country.

Yet I don’t think a prayer in schools amendment is a good idea. I don’ think it goes far enough. It doesn’t address the problem of our courts
view on religion in government. Instead, I suggest an amendment that would clarify the issue of religion and the state, returning the Court
s idea to that which the founding fathers held. It should be government’s job to protect the free practice of religion, not to protect itself from religion. The stateshould allow religion to exist, not stifle it.

George Washington said, “It is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits and humbly to implore His protection and favor.”

After my little shpeel, Clark spoke, then Dr. Mashburn, and finally Dr. Schaefer, who advocated requiring students to take four philosophy classes while in college. It was then opened up for questions. My mom asked one of the first ones. Most of the people who spoke up were professors. It was great to argue with them from up high on the stage while they were down below. Our roles had been reversed. We also discussed things amongst ourselves. During a little spat about authority, Clark unwisely asked, “Would you support your pastor if you disagreed with him?” It’s funny because our church doesn’t even have a pastor. Clark didn’t know that I’m not a Baptist. I didn’t want to get into that since it was off the subject, so I just replied that it would depend.

We laughed about it later when I revealed the truth about my denominational preference in philosophy class one day. Dr. Mashburn was talking about people who prefer to be called simply “Christian,” and I said, “That’s me. I’m not a Baptist.” The room got very quiet. Then from across the room, one of the guys said, “Burn her!” Everyone laughed. I guess I’m the only person in there who’s not a member of the Southern Baptist Convention.

4-6-95
Cris Hyatt (my running mate) and I were walking from the quad to the day care center for her to get some paper for a bulletin board. As we approached the cross walk, one of the admission counselors and a perspective student and her family were approaching us.

“You know what I like to do whenever I pass an admission counselor?” she said and then told me. “You want to do it?” I agreed.
We met the group on the crosswalk. Cris started speaking loudly and mechanically, “Joanna, have I ever told you how much I love this school?”

“Why, no, Cris,” I answered. “Tell me.”

“I just love the University of Mobile,” she continued, enunciating each syllable. “The professors are wonderful, and the classes are so much fun.”

“But Cris,” I said with mock emotion, “You can’t possibly love this school as much as I do.”

By this time we had passed the other people, who were all cracking up laughing.

After getting her paper (which turned out to be a foot too short), I left Cris and made my way over to the library where I had an appointment with the science tutor. Chemistry is a challenge. I got a C on my last formal lab report accompanied by a note reading “Learning Center.”

The learning center is located in the library, houses several computers, and is manned by work study students who specialize in areas ranging from English and math to science. I forgot that my appointment was at 3:30 instead of 3:00, so at the invitation of one of the tutors, I started messing around on the computers. No games are allowed, so after quizzing myself on sentences with improper grammar, I went into control panels and began altering the wallpaper and screen saver. 3:30 rolled around, and Kim, the girl who was supposed to be tutoring, had
not showed up. I talked to Shocka, one of the guys on the computer bulletin boards around here, for an hour and a half waiting. Finally, I changed the marquis on one of the computers to read, “Joanna waited patiently for an hour and a half for Kim to come in and tutor her in chemistry, but she never showed up…” and left.

Elizabeth, my friend who also works in the learning center as an English tutor, told me later that they thought my little message was very humorous. I went back the next day, and sure enough, Kim appeared as well. Maybe I’ll get an A on this next lab report. Our chemistry professor posted out grades. I have a 90.08 average. Just barely an A! There is only one other A, however, out of a class of thirty of so.

My Russian history teacher teaches from a point of view based in propaganda. That makes her lectures fairly interesting. I mean, after all, Stalin invaded Poland only to create a buffer between Russia and Germany, right? And Stalin was the only one who saw what a terrible guy Hitler was. It’s kind of funny. But then, so are some of the anecdotes she tells…

The daughter of an old Decembrist asked her maid why the Bolsheviks were marching outside. “To stop people from being rich.”

“That’s odd,” the daughter mused, “My father demonstrated to try to stop people from being poor.”

Q: Why is there only one party in the Soviet Union?
A: With all the shortages, who can afford two?

Brezhnev, touring a factory one day, came across an industrious worker at his post. “Could you work as quickly if you had had a glass of vodka this morning?” Brezhnev asked.

“Of course,” replied the worker.

“What about if you had two glasses?”

“Yes, fine.”

“But what if you had three glasses of vodka this morning?” Brezhnev inquired.

Replied the worker, “m working now, aren’t I?”

There were two types of people in the Soviet Union: Blacks and Reds. The Blacks rode in black limousines, snacked on black caviar, and vacationed at the Black Sea. The rest of Russians were Red. They had red noses and went to Red Square with red banners.

Brezhnev’s mother stepped out of the limousine that had brought her to her son’s dacha and looked in wonder at the gardens and room before she started crying. “But what are we going to do,” she sobbed, “when the Bolsheviks come to take it away?”

I’m sick. Sick, sick, sick. I’ve got a cold. Ugh.

Nathan, Stephanie, and I went to see a play on Sunday. It was put on by a Medieval society at the University of So:uth Alabama, the local state school. They did Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, which I love. Their performance of it wasn’t very good, however. The two main characters, who are supposed to be male, were played by females. The First Player was played by this old guy who read his script instead of memorizing his lines. Hamlet was the best actor. He was a black guy with an earring in his right ear. They cut out a bunch of it and even one of the characters, Polonius. The king and queen mentioned that he was dead in the first scene, but then the other characters talked as if he were alive (like he should have been at that point) later on. The script was very different from the movie, so that kept it interesting, along with all the gaffs. The play was free, and it’s a good thing too.

I feel like ick.

Things here are wet. After threatening to storm for a couple of days, the heavens finally rent and emptied themselves on our backyard. Before that happened, however, Nathan shot two snakes swimming in our lake with the .22 rifle we bought from him at Christmas. He shot another one a couple of days ago. We decided that they were all harmless water snakes. But when they’re swimming, it’s hard to tell the difference between them and water moccasins. I haven’t seen heard anything about the beavers recently. They may have moved on. Stephanie and Nathan found a live trap a few weeks ago out in a field. It’s big enough to hold a beaver should the beast wander into it and trip the plate so that the doors on either end snap shut. They set it up on a beaten path leading up from the lake and put sticks around it so that the only way to the other side was through the trap. A couple of days later, Stephanie went out in the morning to check the trap. As she approached, she noticed that something was inside! It caught something! Getting nearer, she saw that whatever it was had white on it. Puzzled, she hurried forward to find our cat meowing inside. The poor thing had left the barn to hunt but had her adventure cut short on the way to get a drink. After a week or so and no results, other than the trapped cat, Nathan and Stephanie got a tip from a former forester in our church about how to catch a beaver. They soaked bark stripped from the trees the beavers especially seem to like in sugar water overnight and placed the bait in the trap. The trapped has stayed there, however, and caught nothing. Not even the cat.

My grandmother came home today. She requires almost constant care if she’s not asleep. Mom spent the whole day fetching prescriptions, helping her practice speaking, etc… When Mom was gone, Stephanie and I took turns keeping an eye on my grandmother. It’s going to be different. But at least now we have a reason for telling Benjamin to shut up.

The name I made up for my Russian history test was Mecheck or something. I think I was trying to say Malevich, so I’m afraid spelling isn’t going to help me on this one. It should elsewhere, though. I misspelled Trotsky’s name two different ways.

We seem to cover everything so quickly in class. Our professor lectures for an hour and a half or so on Tuesday and then we have “discussion” on Thursday. That’s when she asks people to talk about what she taught Tuesday and then cuts them off and adds whatever else she wants to say.
That can be good if you can’t answer her questions. Sometimes we watch documentaries. It’s neat to see on t.v. what we’ve been reading about and listening to.

The NEP was interesting. It reminds me of Stolypin’s policy. Whenever they enacted some capitalistic emergency type programs and started making economic and agricultural progress, they’d cut it short to make way for something “better”. The most interesting thing I’ve learned is that
farmland has almost always been collective, first in the peasant communes and then in Stalin’s state farms.

I listened to The Last Tsar, a biography of Nicholas II on tape. It was very interesting. A lot of it was taken from his diary. Right now I’m reading Children of the Arbat. It begins during the first five year plan under Stalin. It’s amazing that everyone loved him so much and thought that communism was good when all around people were being arrested, tortured, killed, starved, or just having an all around bad time of it. I just started it and have to have it finished by the end of spring break. Ack.

I don’t think I’ll be skipping any school. For one thing, I wouldn’t want to. For another, I don’t want to pay the price. It’s much easier if I just stay in school. I don’t have any plans for the summer yet. Dad was talking to me about it the other day. He said something to the effect that I probably wasn’t going to have that many free summers anymore, so I might want to take advantage of this one. Mom won’t be able to come out for CBA’s convention in Denver like she did last year because she has to take care of my grandmother. Nathan and Stephanie are planning to come out for at least camp. Nathan’s family might even come to Colorado for a vacation. Staying out for most of the summer sounds appealing to me. If I’m guaranteed a camping trip, I’ll come.

I like to tear off the cards they have on flyers posted to the bulletin boards in the hallways at school and send them off to wherever they came from to get mail. I got one from the University of Miami in Ohio (don’t ask, I haven’t figured it out myself) from the political science department. I especially looked over the part about tuition being wavered and stipends being paid. That would be really cool, to be able to study somewhere for free and let the school take care of living expenses. Be a professional student. I like that idea.