December 10, 1999 winners of the John Engman Prize page 10 David Rettenmaier: “The Grand Opening” “That big rock is called a glacial erratic,” I said with an arrogant smile. “Shut up. You don’t know shit." My friends laughed at me, and we continued walking along the trail in the woods. We were... Show moreDecember 10, 1999 winners of the John Engman Prize page 10 David Rettenmaier: “The Grand Opening” “That big rock is called a glacial erratic,” I said with an arrogant smile. “Shut up. You don’t know shit." My friends laughed at me, and we continued walking along the trail in the woods. We were uneasy, for we had entered the woods to clear our minds and cleanse our souls. The inspiration for this departure from our normally unprofound lives was the contents of a book that we had received a week earlier. At a music festival, a bearded man had given us this book for a small donation. We had only read the first chapter, but we decided to experiment with its message. The book was entitled, The Book of the Soul with a subtitle that read, “Open Yours Today!” The first chapter was short, and it dealt with the role of nature in Man’s existence. The book claimed that worries, sorrow, and troubles could be “washed away” by simple reflection in nature. By “opening one’s mind and soul to the intricate beauties of the natural world," one could be “at peace with the earth.” I was skeptical, and so were my friends. Nervous laughter and phony nonchalance had charac- terized our entire walk into the woods. We came to a small bridge that crossed a tiny creek, which was mostly dry. Immedi- ately in front of the bridge a steep incline had caused a trickle of water off some rocks to form a small pool. We stood, leaning on the railing of the bridge, looking at the trickle and the pool. The clouds were intemrittently obscuring the sunlight and this influx of shadow and light on the small pool enthralled me. I went down to take a closer look at the pool, and I noticed some water bugs floating and sliding on the water. “I wonder what these things eat," I said to my friends. “I suppose only stuff that floats.” Soon, my friends became interested in the pool, the rocks, and the trickle. My buddy Jesse took a particular liking to the area by the bridge. He found a nearby tree stump and sat staring at the scene. At that point, we became aware of the mosquito population in the area. “God damn it, I’m getting eaten alive,” complained Kevin who was sweating profusely and had a large mosquito bite on his left check. “I wish we hadn’t come here.” I had taken about enough of his whining and was annoyed. “Jesus, Kevin. You always gotta bitch about everything. Do you ruin our fun on purpose? Here.” I gave him a can of bug repellent and walked away. I continued straight down one of the many trails in the woods, trying to tune my senses into the area. There were trees lining each side of the trail, and on the east side the trees dropped down toward an overflowed, yet still small river. I looked up through the trees and saw the elevated horizons on either side of me. The entire area was an ancient riverbed. The river had to have been huge, with a width that exceeded the breadth of many large lakes, but now it was only a stream that had flooded and had, for a short time, become a river. I continued walking and noticed that mushrooms, flowers, toad stools, and squirrels seemed to make up the majority of non—tree life forms in the woods. There were a few small purple flowers jutting through the underbrush that exuded a faint but sweet fragrance. Large bumblebees occasionally buzzed and hovered just over the top of the flower petals. I looked up from one of these flowers and noticed a small tree, which I stared at for some time. My friend Desi surprised me. He tapped me on the shoulder and asked me what I was doing. “Check that out. The knot in that tree looks like the face of a smug man,” I said, proud of my observation. “Look, too. That bunch of leaves looks like Lyle Lovett’s hair-do." Desi looked for a while and said, “I don’t know. I guess I can kinda see it." Desi and I walked together for a while. Everything seemed the same as the leaves, trees, and calm of before until we reached a bend and saw the overflowed river up-close. The water was a shade lighter than mud, and bubbles of detergent pollution formed in pockets by the banks where the water stood still. We marveled at the force of the river‘s flow, and then we walked on. When we completed the bend we noticed that the water had recently covered the trail and the woods on the east side. A little further lay the washed up drift from the flood. Mud and rotted branches that had begun to grow algae were piled high. Many trees had fallen, and the area seemed quiet and dead. There was little alive in this area because there were few trees, which allowed for few animals. The mire stunk as the drift decomposed. Desi and I continued until we reached a muddy spot in the trail. With some delibera- tion, wedecided to cross it. As soon as I jumped over the mud, I heard the loud “Caaaww” of a crow. Until then, I had heard nothing but the peaceful “chirp chirp" of smaller birds. The area we entered had trees, but they were rotted and dirty almost all the way up their trunks. On the right of the trail was a pond, with no outlets, which had formed as the water had receded from the area. This pond was entirely covered with dull green algae that made the pond look more like split pea soup than water. Desi picked up a branch and said, “I wonder what would happen if I threw this stick in that pond.” I laughed. I pictured the stick hitting the pond with a muddled “bloop” and the thick- ened water making only a tiny spatter as the stick entered it. “I don’t know. Let’s see," I said gesturing him to throw the branch. He tossed the branch and it hit the water with a slap and a big splash; the water was not the “ooze” that I expected it to be. After the ripple of the splash had stopped, the algae began to converge on itself. For upwards of a minute we stood, watching the algae envelop the water like an incurable disease. When the algae had completely reformed, we both took an awe-full look at our surroundings. Across the water was a huge oak tree that hung, half dead, over the swamp like the overlord of an evil domain. The tree was knot- ted and mangled, and its branches rose mostly leafless toward the now cloudy sky. Dead worms, mud, and the stench made me think that the sky must have defecated on the swamp. The only visibly living organisms were mud-mhted grasses that pointed toward the pond. On one tree, I was horrified by a large insect that clung to the bark. I went closer and found that it was merely the exoskeleton of a monstrous flying insect. I later found out that the bug was a Cicada, which is a rare insect that lives in the roots of trees as larvae for seventeen years until it matures and comes up from the roots looking for a mate. I imagined that this bug, magnified many times, would make for an excellent model of a monster in a horror movie. “This place is pure evil,” I said to Desi. After taking a long look and thoughtful look, Desi replied, “I know. I have never seen anything more dead than this place. This is what Hell is really like. Everything in this swamp is pure evil, and it is tormented by the fact that it can't be what it is. The algae, the tree, the worms-they all want to kill us, gruesomely, but they can’t.” We laughed, and then decided to leave. I have reflected on my experience, keeping in mind my original intentions and the even- tual outcomes. We had spent four hours on the same stretch of trail that spanned no more than one third of a mile. The swamp was the most pervasive affront to my senses, and I enjoyed it. If the book was right, my soul was opened. But I could begin to feel the ceaseless advance of the algae swallowing my soul. T.J. Malaske: “The Obedience of Common Life” I am small. I have hair so light that it nearly glows white. I am in the shadows of a dark room. I am alone. I am leaning up against a brown and cream big silk armchair. I fumble with my feet for a while. I am wearing little paten-leather shoes with black buckles. l have black socks on that come up under the dusty blue chord-overall-shorts that I am wearing with a white shirt. There is a highly polished, dark wood, mirror-like table next to me. It has a set of books under it and a few richly framed photos enthroned on top. There is Mommy and Daddy, both smiling in contrast to the somber seriousness of Grandmother and Grandfather. Neither photo compares, however, to the regal grandeur of Great Grandmother and the mysterious Baron who is Great Grandfather; the last of the late Victorians to rust away. Next to this table of faces, is the great white pot with blue chintz patterns on its body. Protruding from it are three or four strait dark stems with paper like bark hanging loosely from them in certain areas. Great fan-like hard dark green leafy palms make a canopy over head. The room is very dark with only a small area of brightness showing through the great picture window. It is grey outside, grey but still. And a few yellow aspen leaves cartwheel strait towards the earth. Great Grandmother comes from the kitchen where it is lighter, and there are no dark colours allowed. But the door swings closed, cutting off from circulation the light airi— ness of the informal back rooms, suffocating the pompous formal front rooms of the house on the hill. When the door was open, along with the light colours of the bright room. I could hear Great Grandmother‘s cook singing to herself, but the heavy door has also cut that ofi from intellect. Great Grandmother is wearing a light grey dress with lavender stripes. She looks over at me and smiles in a way she wouldn’t dare had she known others were around. It would tarnish her cool demeanor. She does not say any- thing, but walks over to her organ, mechanically yet gracefully selecting the key from the ring of keys the always hangs from her waist. She is so smooth in actions practiced over ninety-odd years, that there is only the slightest clink of hard cold metal on metal. Even when she walks there is no noise from any part of her person. She slides the small brass key into the cover of the organ as she sits down on the bench. Her keys fall back into place, making a bit more noise this time, and as she raises the cover with her left hand, she pulls up her skirt a bit with her right. She does not pull it up far though, and the petticoat still hides her ankles. She pumps with her feet, making her lap rise and fall in continuous repetition. She starts to play, and the fast airy notes fill the room with their loud harmonious hums. Her arms do not move, nor her hands, only her fingers. She looks at her sheet music as she plays a polka. The music calls me from the safety of my shadows, and I slowly walk over to her and the organ. I pull myself up onto the brown silk padded bench, sitting with my left leg under my right, swinging it in time to the music. I put out my short stubby pointer finger and I touch Great Grandmother’s side. I run my finger along the boning in her corset that is hidden by her bodice. Up and down I rub the stays. side to side, making my finger jump over the little ridges. I look up at her. She still looks strait at her music. I duck my head under her arm. and place my head on her lap, rising and falling in time with the bellows those legs pump to create musrc. It seems a long time before the buzzer at the front door rings its loud electric song. Great Grandmother pushes me off her lap, floating up to receive her visitors. It is Tues- day, and Grandmother’s Lady friends are coming over to visit and play old-lady games. There is Great Grandmother’s best friend, who probably hasn’t worn a corset since her own, and this century’s twenties. She is shorter than great Grandmother, but makes it up two-fold with her girth. She is always smiling, laughing, and of course, cooing over me. Her skirts are a wonderful place to play, with the yards and yards of deep blue fabric swaying around the comers of doorways and halls. She always gives me a chase down the hall when Grandmother isn‘t looking, and tackles me with a frosting of sweet old lady kisses that always smell like lemon verbena. And I laugh, “Ohh, Sweet Honey..." not because that is her name, for it is not, but because that is what Grandmother always calls her. And she laughs too. Then there are the two Hill Sisters. They are old and wintered. Their skin is not so smooth as Great Grandmother’s nor as plump as Sweet Honey’s, but their pale eyes shine with life. Here are two maids, both beauties of the day, that is, when the bloom was still on the peach. Both flirtatious and near as can be to fast for proper Ladies. Both engaged to brothers. Both brothers killed during the Great War. Both sisters becoming spinsters. Always they dress the same, never letting the one outdo the other in the petit- ness of their waists. There is always a great commotion over which sister‘s piece of hard-candy I will eat first, so I have learned to break them in half, and put one part of each to melt in my moth, while the others sit in my pocket, waiting for the eve of the day. And when the ladies take their tea, there can be no forgiving of which Hill Sister’s lap I choose to sit on, so I sit on the floor, equal distant between them, allowing them both to pet me, and secretly pass me bits of cookies. Always, the one will scoot her chair towards me when she is sure the other is not aware, but she always is, and I end up pressed between the skirts of the two Hill Sisters. And there is Mrs. Anderson. She is always cold and harsh. And she wears pants. But I have often heard Great Grandmother whisper to Sweet Honey or the Hill Sisters ...only because she was born a Pillsbury... and I know they really don‘t care for her. She does not belong with these women, and never voices her opinion around the clucking tea table, only using her stinging voice to say Good afternoon when she arrives, and Good evening when she departs. And even though Great Grandmother’s smiles are seldom. they are warm and kind. Never have I seen Mrs. Anderson smile, and I’m sure she never has. After tea, and a full stomach of Hill Sister cookies, we retreat to Great Grandmother’s formal dining room where she herself has carefully packed away the grand Russian table into itshiding spotinbehindthewall,andplacedtbechairs aroundtbeperimeterofthe mWWdLflo’mfl Show less
December 10, 1999 winners of the John Engman Prize page 8 Sharon Rolenc: “One Final Visit” The uniformed woman looked at me sharply from beneath her bleach-blonde bangs; the rest of her hair falling straight and shoulder length in a severe blunt cut. “I'm sorry ma'm but you won‘t be allowed to... Show moreDecember 10, 1999 winners of the John Engman Prize page 8 Sharon Rolenc: “One Final Visit” The uniformed woman looked at me sharply from beneath her bleach-blonde bangs; the rest of her hair falling straight and shoulder length in a severe blunt cut. “I'm sorry ma'm but you won‘t be allowed to visit today." ' “C an you tell me why? The official told me on the phone that there would be no problems with bringing my son.“ Keegan. oblivious to what was going on. was sitting on the floor cooing and singing songs from behind the pacifier that was a permanent fix- ture in his mouth. Drool seeped from the comers of his mouth as the pacifier flopped up and down to the words he sang. He was rocking his new “baby.” a miniature Paddington bear that wore a little red coat and a blue hat. “There is no problem with your son. The problem is that you are not wearing a bra.“ I looked down at what I was wearing. I had on two layers of clothing. a gray shirt and black vest. There was no way that anyone could tell that I wasn‘t wearing a bra. “You’re kidding. right"? Oh. come on. you couldn‘t even tell that I wasn’t wearing one until you frisked me." We were in the hallway just outside the frisking room. a per- fectly square. gray room with no windows and just one door. The security door that sep- arated us from the rest of the prison was just a few steps away. “Why can't I go without one?" “Because it's sexually provocative." “Oh. for Christ's sake. I'm going to visit my father. not my lover." "It doesn‘t matter. you‘ll be in the same room as other inmates who are not your father. You have to understand that some of these men have had no conjugal contact with their wives or lovers in many years. This is not a negotiable rule.“ "I‘ve come all the way from Minneapolis. and have gone to great lengths to arrange this visit." Eleven years after my mother‘s death. I still had nightmares. My stomach still fluttered when any man tried to get close to me - not the telltale butterfly flutters of new love. but the tumultuous. acidic flutters of anxiety. I needed a feeling of resolution about what my father thought about my mother‘s death. This visit was critical. "Well. you should have gone to great lengths to find out the rules.“ Furious at her utter disregard for my situation. I yanked out the letters I had received from the state of Nebraska detailing the procedure I needed to go through for this visit. and I shoved them in her face. “Not anywhere on any of these documents does it state that I am required to wear a bra." “It's prison rules. All women must wear bras.“ Her arms crossed. her hips square. she wasn‘t going to budge. “There‘s a Shopko just down the road. Go buy a bra. come back and we'll process you quickly. you won‘t have to take a number and wait this time. I scooped up Keegan and stormed through a glass door to the lobby. down past the rows of people clutching numbers. sitting on benches. waiting for their turn to be processed so that they could visit their loved ones. I passed a well-dressed couple. the woman in flowery Sunday dress. her husband in crisp linen suit. They were trying not to look embarrassed at being there to visit their wayward son. I passed rows of dreary peo- ple in faded jeans and stained t-shirts. their patchy skin and rotted teeth revealing the despair that brought their loved ones to such a place. I realized that I should not have brought my son. But my desire to visit my father outweighed my maternal instinct to run and never return. I left to go find Shopko. Later. in the visiting room. I waited for my father to show up. There were several long tables pushed together down the center of the long room. and the high ceilings gave the place the appearance of being larger than it was. Keegan decided that this room served the same function of his recreation room at daycare. and began running around screaming: trying to instigate a chasing game with me. "Shth Keegan. this is not recess. Come sit down. Now. You are going to meet you grandpa today." He reluctantly sat down by me. After what seemed like only seconds. he decided he was bored so started to sing me songs he learned from daycare. "Woa, woa. woa yo boat, gentie down da stweam." I prayed that I would last through the visit. and wished I had found someone to take Keegan so that I could have an uninterrupted visit. But then maybe the distraction would help. I had waited so long for this opportunity and already the day hadn't turned out at all how I had anticipated. Several pew—like benches sat against three of the walls in the perfectly rectangular room. I sat in one of these benches against the wall closest to the visitor‘s entrance. The room was abnormally bright from the fusion of fluorescent lighting and the sun. Sun- light streamed down on me from the left. diffused from the dirt of the institutional win- dows, and I felt myself grow sweaty from heat and nervousness. I kept my eyes peeled on the right wall. where two security doors separated us from the convicts inside. I could hear the ticking and buzzing from the clock on the wall above me as I waited. The door finally opened. and out he came. He stood just inside the room. with a guard right beside him. He looked across the whole room before his eyes widened in recognition. The guard escorted him over to me. He looked exactly as he always did. shoulders back, head high, but drawn inside himself. No evidence of his feelings. no evidence of any heart. He had the same pair of hem-rimmed glasses that he had when I was growing up, but his receding hair had gone gray. Brown patches of age spots had erupted on the surface of his skin since the last time I had seen him at his sentencing eight years before. When he reached me. he put out his hand to shake mine. I ignored the gesture. pre- tending not to have seen it as I looked down at my son. “This is your grandson, Keegan. Sweetie, this is your grandpa." Keegan looked up at him. cautiously sticking his dark curly head out from behind my knee. After a few moments he lost interest in his grandpa and thrust his pacifier back into his mouth, and went back to running around in circles. My father stood staring at me. hardly seeing Keegan at all. “Wow, Sharon you look, um. you look..." “I look like my mother." I finished for him. Several family members told me how much I had started to resemble my mother in recent years. He shot me a pained look. I turned my attention to Keegan, and bent over to pick him up. He wiggled and fussed before finally setting his head against my shoulder. I looked back at my father and nodded toward the bench. “Why don’t we sit down?” We sat in silence for a few minutes. We didn't have long - the whole bra ordeal had eaten away most of visiting time. Keegan wriggled out of my arms and started pulling toys out of his diaper bag. He latched onto a toy truck and started driving it along one of the nearby benches. I felt panicked. I had so much to say and didn't know where to start. I heard the clock tick above me as he asked the first question. “So what are you doing up there in Minnesota?" “I'm going to school. so I can get a better job. I want to teach, and maybe write someday." He nodded absently. while watching Keegan race around the tables. He narrowed his eyes for a moment. His look was one of disapproval, but I couldn’t tell if it was because Keegan was bi-racial or because he was an overly energetic toddler. “Theresa told me you are on the welfare. I take it his dad doesn’t help you any.” he said. gesturing in Keegan's direction. Go ahead and say it father. I wanted to say, that’s what I get for getting involved with a black man. right? That’s really how you feel isn't it? That’s why mom had to hide her Harry Belafonte records. isn’t it? Because you couldn't stand the fact that she liked lis— tening to a black singer. and an attractive one at that. Once she joked about how cute Belafonte was. she pretty much screwed herself out of ever listening to him again. “No he doesn‘t help us. I don‘t need his help at this point." I didn‘t want to talk about me. but I struggled to find the words I really needed to say. I felt unfocused and inarticulate. I wanted to know why he did it; why took my mother from me, but I didn’t know how to broach the topic. He just kept pushing the issue of my life. “You always were so damn independent. Never wanting anyone to do anything for you. It's a good thing sometimes. but sometimes'it‘s not so good," he said. He stole a glance at me from the comer of his eye. sizing up my reaction. Preparing for an argu- ment. “Sometimes being independent is the only thing that saves you” I replied. I wanted to say. sometimes that‘s the only thing that keeps you alive, but I didn’t want to go into my history with Keegan‘s father. Keith. I didn't need to tell him about the time that Keith held me by the neck against the wall. While trapped under his grip, memories flashed in my mind. back to the time as a child when I looked through our family's liv- ing room window and saw my father straddling my mother, hands around her neck, choking her. Of how I ran blindly. tears streaming down my face to the house across the road. To the neighbors we never talked to, to the neighbors who took me in that morning and called the police for me, while I cried hysterically. After Keith left the day he tried to choke me. he was never let back into my apartment or my life ever again. But I couldn‘t tell my father that. he would never see the connection. “Why did you go to Minneapolis in the first place?“ He asked me. I went because I wanted to be anonymous in a big city. To get away from you and away from what it meant to be Clem‘s poor daughter; that's why I left. I wanted to tell him that no fourteen-year-old girl should have the sheriff ’s department tell her in the presence of her friends that her mother had been murdered and her father was the prime suspect. I wanted to leave behind the looks of recognition and pity from other parents” faces as my name was called out at high school graduation. I wanted to leave the legacy of my family name behind me. “Minneapolis has more opportunity. Better jobs. and better schools." I managed to explain. “Yeah I can see how that‘s really helped you.“ he snorted. “Why can‘t you move back here? Let your family help you. Your sister Theresa would help. Beverly. too. You need to be with family when you are struggling so." Theresa and Beverly were two of his children from a previous marriage. None of his children ever fully accepted my mother‘s place in their father‘s home. Being connected to his children would be like being forever connected to him. And I couldn‘t imagine Beverly ever wanting to help me. She was the sister who paid me money when I was little girl to not talk to her when she was home visiting. She never cared for anything I ever did or said. The whole thought of Beverly made me want to scream; I wouldn‘t be alone if you hadn‘t killed my mother. Mom would be with me now. offering me her two cents worth of parenting advice. I wouldn‘t need daycare assistance because she would be there. helping me take care of Keegan. She would love his dreamy chocolate eyes and soft curls. She would sing him songs on key and in tune with a voice I wasn't lucky enough to inherit. And she would be proud that I was in college. Something that you obviously don‘t consider important enough to even mention. “I‘m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ll be just fine. really. I only went on welfare so that I would be eligible for a program that would pay for daycare so that I could finish college.“ I explained. “Boy. the government sure is screwy ain‘t it? Designing things so that you have to be on welfare just to help yourself. It makes no sense.“ “You got that right." I laughed. It struck me as funny that he could share my belief. It was a rare moment when my father and I agreed. For a brief second. I thought I had a chance at getting through to him. until he continued speaking. “I suppose that‘s why he's so wild. huh?" he motioned at Keegan who was crawling under one of the tables shouting “peek-a-boo" at us. “Those daycares just don‘t give them the discipline that parents do. Always letting ‘em run wild. Never teaching them any rules. I just hope you won‘t have a big problem on your hands when he gets older." I wanted to ask him when the last time it was that he took care of a toddler. but I knew he wouldn‘t understand what I was asking. He was always the breadwinner. The daddy that came home late at night and left early in the morning. When home. he was the daddy who demanded absolute silence and obedience. Children seen. not heard. He was the daddy who snarled at me on more than one occasion for being too wild and for never knowing when to shut-up. We continued with our conversation briefly. talking about his daily routine as a prison inmate. I got up several times to move Keegan away from the other families visiting with other prison inmates. and once to change his diaper in the tiny bathroom that reeked of urine and ammonia just outside the visitor‘s entrance. It took me awhile to summon the courage to ask the question that I really wanted answered. There was only ten minutes left of visiting hours. “Did you love her?“ “What?” “Did you love her?“ “Who, did I love who?" “Did you ever really love my mother?" . “Oh. for goodness sakes. Sharon. what kind of question is that?" He blurted. a mix- ture of frustration and anger on his face. It was the same look he had on his face when he picked me up from track practice in junior high and slapped me because I wasn‘t in front of the school doors exactly when he expected me to be. It was the same look that he had when he discovered the kitten I kept in my clothing drawer so that it wouldn‘t die in the distemper-infected barn. I saw noth— no. “Ono Flu-l Vlolt" pogo Show less
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Show more,.,._v<.. December 10, 1999 page 1 1 4 _._,,_‘ 1m _ .“.r..,w..h‘ ." “Brotherly Stages” continued from page 4 daeycouldcomeupwithfortlnsuicideattanptwasthathisgir'lfriendeonnc.hadjust brokenuptheironeyearrelaionship. IalsoheardthegrownupssayingthatMarlowhad nghpillstokiflamanddledoctorsdidn’tunderstandhowhesurvived. Ithouglllwaasmmttenyea'onbutlcouldn‘tfigureout howmanypillsittookto killa horse. Why wasitsudiabigmysterytotheseCalifornia doctors that my brother lived?Liketheysaid,itwasenoughpillstokillahorse,notmybrother. AW ‘ I was fifteen-years-old the first time I went to the mall alone with my twenty- two— yea—old brother. It was summertime in Minneapolis and the Mall of America had just recently opened up. He had gone to the Mall of America, which he referred to as the “mgamall” just two days ago with his boys. He was telling me that the mall had at least four difierent Footlocker stores, as he stood at the stove scrambling some eggs for his very late 2:“) breakfast. I replied with a sarcastic, “ whatever.” My brother. the former boombox junkie had now become a Nike tennis shoe addict. But I had to admit that it 'was time for me to buy another pair of tennis shoes. I agreed to go to the mall with him, I was somewhat intrigued by the all the talk about how huge it was. He taught me how to catch the eighty express to the megamall. The bus ride was nice; it was filled with lots of chatter, but the best part was that my brother and I were a part of it. We had never really talked that much when we were children. and he was gone for a good portion of my childhood anyway. He looked kind of cool with his off black shades. single diamond caning sitting in the hard orange seat next to me Speaking freely and comfortably. The Mall of America’s ladies Foot Locker was amazing. There were tons of different styles of tennis shoes. specifically for women. It looked liked business was going well. The roles had reversed. Instead of the salespeople trying to devour money out of the cus- tomers. the customers were devouring their service. Their black and white striped Foot Locker t-shirts appeared to be a gray blur as they hurried back and forth between cus- tomers, while being weighed down by white shoe boxes. The air smelled of fresh new shoes. After trying on my seventh pair of grossly ugly Nikes, suggested to me by my big brother. I decided to give Fila a chance. I noticed a cute pair sitting on the display stand that was screaming my name. Marlow had already spoken to the salesperson for me. and asked for a size eight in black. They fit perfectly. As I slipped my left foot into the remaining left shoe I said, “ So. what do you Marlow sat in the gray chair across from me slightly nodding his head, “ They’re no nikes, but for Filas. they’re alright.“ I knew that was his way of saying they looked great on me. He was never really big on expressing himself verbally, especially if it risked him sounding too mushy or approv- ing. I decided to buy them. We made our way over to the counter. I dug my seventy dollars out of my black jean pocket and attempted to hand it to the cashier as he said. “ 'Ihat‘ll be $69.99." My brother asked. “there’s no sales tax on shoes?" The cashier shook his head. Marlow was visiting Minneapolis for the summer, and wasn't familiar with the different taxing systems that existed between California and Minnesota. Then he shoved my hand and money back towards my pocket, and pur- chased my first pair of Filas. We exited Ladies Foot Locker together side by side. I was wearing a hot pink and black striped sweater that accented my recently acquired jet black hair. along with my new black Filas. My brother, approximately 6’ 1" was wearing a cream colored t- shirt, blue jeans. and a pair of white and blue Nikes. I felt pretty lucky to have him as a brother until he grinned at me and said while look- ing at a group of slutty looking girls, “I can‘t come to the mall with you anymore because you're stopping all the ladies from giving me their number. Mannnnn, they probably think you‘re my girlfriend." I laughed as l shoved him, and he took me to a fast food place unknown to me called Steak and Fry. CLASSIFIEDS oi :niii/niroirs .rntl .\ugsl)urg illI(I .\( "I (~ college stu- rlt iits. I.|tllII_\ and stall inn) plucc ads for free. t'lnssilir-rl oils are $5 pt‘l’ “ct-k. per 30-“ord message. Ill.t|i\ uctks \ori \Htllld likt- “It: and to run. \on-prol'it Mgmood I sat on Marlow‘s purple and black multicolored sofa fiercely flicking through the channels on his big screen television. I sighed in frustration and threw the remote down next to me: more than a hundred available channels and nothing appealed to my interest. Marlow wasn't interested in the defeat I had just taken from his TV. He sat across from me changing his five-month-old son. Joshua Marlow. Josh had wet his diaper. and Mar— low found his way through the three-ton Mickey Mouse diaper bag with case. One by one he extracted the Johnson‘s baby powder. the Baby Fresh baby wipes. thc Pampers diapers, and the Vaseline petroleum jelly that helped to prevent chafing. l didn't expect him to give Josh the blue baby rattle with the different colored beads inside to play with and occupy him as he changed his dirty diaper. After he finished changing Josh. he picked him up and started playing with him in the air. and giving him kisses on his chubby tummy. Chris came bursting through the front door. “ Dad. can I put some shorts on?" " Chris your mom already told you no. you can take your jacket off. but you‘re not wearing shorts, it‘s too cold." Marlow answered. It was fall in Sacramento. The weather was nice and sunny. but there was also a strong breeze. Being a visitor from Minnesota. I thought the sixty—degree weather was extremely nice. Marlow‘s wife. Yvonne. had gone out to her hair appointment and to do some checkbook damage shopping afterwards. Therefore. Marlow was taking care of the kids alone that Saturday. When I woke up at 10:00 that morning. Marlow was not only awake. but he had already cooked breakfast. There was orange juice. toast. scrunihlcd eggs and turkey ham; we didn't eat pork products. When Yvonne finally arrived home at about 5:00. Marlow had prepared dinner. The house had a welcoming scent of pot roast, potatoes. and broccoli smothered in Velvcctn. I had gone to the grocery earlier and picked up a Mrs. Smith apple pie. I enjoyed baking. but I wasn‘t in California to fine-tune my cooking. It was obvious to me that Marlow was definitely taking his partnership in marriage and role as a father very seriously. His great cooking skills must have contributed to that newly acquired twenty pounds that he put on. After dinner Marlow and I talked about childhood memories. We trampled on to the subject about my fear of dogs. “ That was so wrong of you to tell me to raise my arm in the air when I saw a dog I was scared of. when you knew that would make the dog jump up at me". I said playfully. but somewhat still slightly pissed off ten years later. Marlow laughed hysterically. “ I didn‘t do that." with a smirking look of guilt on his face. “ Whatever, you know you did. but I'll forgive ya one day.“ I laughed. He got up out of his recliner and went to retrieve his medium sized black Pit from the patio, and let him loose inside the house. I wasn‘t extremely frightened but the shc~dog looked kind of mean. and I wasn‘t going to take the chance of those white sharp teeth sinking into my fleshy skin. “ Get her away from me Marlow," I said as I scooped my legs onto his couch. The dog just stood there staring at me through herjet black eyes that perfectly complimented her ebony black coat. Marlow waited about thirty seconds. just enough to scare me a lit- tle, and then he fetched her. “ Alright Markisha, I’mjust playin’." He petted her and rubbed his nose against hers and put her back on the pritio to join his black Rottwiler. He always loved dogs. He used to constantly bring strays home as n child. but grandma would never get a dog for him or let him keep .1 stray. “ I can’t believe you‘re still afraid of dogs." be leased. “ I’m not, I'mjust cautious. and would it kill you to get a little nice sweet fluffy puppy for once?" I laughed. Marlow and I stayed up until about three the next morning. We laughed. joked, and talked about life. That was the first time we really talked to each other. We formed :r bond that night. which hasn‘t been broken since. I realized there‘s u lot more to Miri'low thanjust being my brother. but there are still times when he’s just that. “The Obedience of Life” continued from page 10 lo plutc HIKI ml. cull till-.Ull-Illll and specify ho“ rooiri. All of the women but Mrs. Anderson role the up lllL’ tIL‘L‘p maroon carpet. letting it form a giant log against the litl' wall. I slip out of my tiny shoes, pick them up, and place them on a chair with a small double put. as if to say ...thcrc, there shiny little things. I'll come back ACAPULCO'S 01 SPRING BREAK COMPANY. Bianchi-Rossi Tours wants you to Go Loco in Acapulco! Make the first Spring Break of the New Millennium the Best by traveling with the Best. Leave the High School crowds in Cancun & Mazatlan. 800—875-4525. www.bianchi-rossi.com. TRAVEL FREE — ask how! Spin Break ‘1» Cancun. Mazatlan or Jamaica From $399 Reps wanted! Sell 15 and travel free? Lowest Prices Guaranteed!!! Info: Call l—SOO— «Mb-8355 wwwsunbreakscom. 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For reservations or Rep registration Call Inter- Campus 800-327-6013 PHONE READERS NEEDED P/T Hours Shifts: 6-9PM. M-F & lO-ZPM on Sat. Great for students with only 6hrs to spare a week. $8.00 to $13.00 per hr. : bonuses: Call Bobby at fill-717- 0700 2:00PM to 4:00PM only Earn $$ promoting bands for major record companies around town d: at shows. Visit wwwnoizepollutioncom to fill out an e-application. Or call Travis @ 800—996-1816. to you soon enough... Sweet Honey giggles and claps like a child as she is allowed to select the first cylinder. ()nly (ircut Grandmother however. is allowed to place the thick tube of wax on her father‘s golden Amberola. It is cranked. and slowly and unrecognizany the music starts. Faster and faster it croons until they all look at me and l shout out: “...a fox trot!" The two Hill Sisters rush over to me, but Sweet honey beats them out with her swaying hips. I laugh and throw my head back. for I like dancing with Sweet Honey best of all, I step on my partner’s small feet and reach up. trying to grab onto her great ball of a body. She holds me in. and I rest my head against her belly, We move around the room in time to the music: slow. slow. quick. quick. slow. slow. quick. quick. spin. spin... We dance and pass the two Hill Sisters. fox Uotting next to us. We all laugh, and someone sings. and someone else says something about the past, and even (ircat Grandmother claps and smiles as she looks at us. Only old Mrs. Andcr son sits in the comer. quiet and alone. frightening me with her cold e) es. But then I am passed off to dance on the feet of one of the Hill Sisters. and then the other. And I am a sought after commodity in [he dinning room. passed from one woman to the next. But finally I know the day is nearing an end when it is Great Grandmothch feet I am dancing on. for the last dance is always with her. And her friends leave. once again covering me with kisses and pats. cooing over how good and so set and handsome a young man I am. And I am once again Great Grandmother‘s. And we are once again alone in the formal front room She goes back to playing her polka». pOIODZtISCs. and mazurkas. and I go back to resting my head on her lap. And I am content. Show less
W101” - a winners ot the John Engan Prize “*MM h'd‘fins-u-Ia” My taupe:- “1999.” hummus-nu." 8w. John Engman prize inners announced mmmfl-muummmmmmmdm Mammqfldmaummmmwawm hon- mummdhenufiaioau'mnlheywifleadneeeiveassomu. U.uma8m~ypizhlflpoe-“Moskvalirunilf “Huckleberry Above 'd‘M'lH... Show moreW101” - a winners ot the John Engan Prize “*MM h'd‘fins-u-Ia” My taupe:- “1999.” hummus-nu." 8w. John Engman prize inners announced mmmfl-muummmmmmmdm Mammqfldmaummmmwawm hon- mummdhenufiaioau'mnlheywifleadneeeiveassomu. U.uma8m~ypizhlflpoe-“Moskvalirunilf “Huckleberry Above 'd‘M'lH-MoyledaomaflmawardforhapoemswhmnkSluma.” mmhmmummrwmmmmwfirm:o MMmktlmm-mraum'mmopmng.“ WMJSImubMMMhamyml-TmflVisit"andtoVicki mm‘IMmmAnjabekl-‘Iowmformm Stages.”Allison h1M'tlmM”ndAnfiuCobayfw“SummerBreeze.” “*Mam’swi-‘ngaMyprizeinnmmmonecategorytutjudges “Mbmoflhewntenfumeirsubrmmonsiuaddiuonflcategmies. Wuhan-alchemeonmdedibrherpoemswassim.“ "; “Hawkerva forllxpoems “Hat.” and "l‘he Oogey :dMMTJ.MaIaakeforhiaessay“ObedienceofConunonLife." "pimp-dmmoflhefingfilhdepamnanfaculty.Nunesofdnsmdem dpoetawaenotli‘edonmeworbeubmined.Wmningenuieswerenotranked. 'l'heeomegtiaqronaoredanmnllybythefingliah DepamnentandMurphy SquareJheAugs- liar-yndmreviewl‘hepriuisnamedinhonorofpoetuidAugsburgCollegealumnus Tanank Shima Alongdeepg-b laud-gth Mm Oathe'round Mmmw Pro-Miteruonare. Mil-yaksonvelvet Amerippledbydianae AndhudauMlmttoalossofculture. fluid-inadewmrbellslullme AstheMminmus Dirtychudseovenngmyheat S‘balowmedamapaeeabove. wand-mum Wham-farm Andbpeqlediuiutotheltock Alumnan mwfiyme-elyfie fluidity-twinned. Ski-kth Humanity mag-What luau-hadn'tme Wan.qu “db—madman “Wisp-ovum “Huh-aw-” G-hmm-naafll “*mflu'sm Min.“ “flu-thallium: “infinity-u qua-u Huckleberry Above Persimmon March 1. I999 I think it must have been Adam who never wondered what it might be like tobewithsomeoneelse Or maybe Romeo- only because his parents told him that he could have any girl he wanted Any girl but that Juliet But maybe Romeo was really gay and he was just trying to deny it Afterall he was only 15 And.ohh whatawaytodeny it ThoaeMontegues reallyknow howtogoallout -by 111. "cloak: Sonnet for Sophia (menu's-«squat; Mlphbenddtueia- Afln‘n‘anofithBiss! A—“mhveutedaoknlohdd Tb-un-nhy-d-t-dofl. t'anqflngheofldebe? Auflhdm “m‘fl-duweue-dkwe- Mufi‘fithdqm-ed. hmihum'sfihenh- n“**muhm1‘ luau-haw” upfluflehdhfifleu. munmuhnlmfl hhifiwbflhfl hhl— page 3 Alexei (From a photo of Grand Duke Alexei Nikoliaevitch Rottianofi‘; taken in June of l9l 7. thirteen months before his assassination) March 8. I999 You were peach once. once in might Russia. Pink with the life of beauty and chamt. which seems to bewitch me every time I look to your ikon. standing nude in the water of the park. which was your prison. Black around you. illuminating you. casting shadows of adolescent curves over your pure body. Smooth. wet with droplets of water on your mund amts‘ simple marks of white. on ashen skin. Arms that reach down into the water meeting at your middle. as if to hide your sex. already secreted by the blackness of the seductive water. rounding hips immerge. circle ‘mund to shadowed pelvis arch near your flat belly holding in its center. the dim shadow of your button. A cross lies at your neck a medallion at your chest, your only protection from the world now that you are naked. and your hair has been cropped. Your hair smooth against your round skull. held down by the weight of water. from under whose world you have Just L'Ulllc And I look to your face now taking it in. I see a resemblance between us, you and me after all. that is what they said in Russia Tui khaodstivish sycn... You resemble him... And your eyes, The same sad Russian eyes that look out at me from behind the mirror. The Other One has twice told me: Your eyes are sad. TJ. You have sad Russian eyes. and they are beautiful. -by TJ. Malaslt The Oogey Factor ‘Ihemilkisclabbored! Heanmunoesashereturnsthegalltmjug Tothefridge. (hidieOOQeyFmScaleofonetoten. Wharton: is washing dishes without gloves (scrapsoflasagnadieeseagainubareskinin nowotepid water). Andteniscleaningaverydirtywilet (Notjuattalkingaswiabotthebruah here). mwmmwmmyugw WotfldrlediouaZJ. Budncehepuitback (\waotdddonicharhing‘!) Andldiai'tknowil. Twoniatinalaymfomiedinthejug: Cudsndwhey (So—ekindofftlkycheeaeinmemaking). MOOQeyquJppedu-IMSJ. fluke-dynamism“: lah'td-Ip‘n. lrdnaellerdeofdetumoogeyhandta. erVich'A-m Show less
December 10 1999 The Climax Hateful rhetoric. accusing prose Flies in the kitchen a'r. bounces off The linoleum. sting 01 faces with lack” Your words once uttered in passion now form In violent disdain from It may inrth And the downstairs neigllaors stay pin. llavrng seen this one uniting... Show moreDecember 10 1999 The Climax Hateful rhetoric. accusing prose Flies in the kitchen a'r. bounces off The linoleum. sting 01 faces with lack” Your words once uttered in passion now form In violent disdain from It may inrth And the downstairs neigllaors stay pin. llavrng seen this one uniting Watching our words clung color from Week to week. like an October sky (‘ontentful green. disillusioned yellow. Brilliantly painful red. Broken boxes of belongings Beneath the window of what was otirs. But is now mine alone. Remnants of a life together l-or you to haul away and assemble Into the beginning of a new chapter J hnE {59519909 nilholesnowhnglikewuwo-ih. swallowiagapaekleimotheigrievr-m OntheeofleettleJnyappointmeatbook layopeaas-iactofininiaytohepapwhiae youcomnmdedmetowriteyoua-nehi. uproofofinyeommitmeutoyulcae. Yownarie.indelible.bleeihthuughthe M-strengthwhiteoutthl winnerde 0 ngan Prize Passion “qhhwflhamw Mfiufiwfiw Vt.“de w“— hwnfihfl“ “qwhmh (hag‘dqhtwlfifiw Myfiefihlhh’dy. “dike-M“ “flu-ml. unions-“mm “O‘Hth mmmuhM—Mflahmm Cque-yh-t-I-yhmwludym museum-unusual... Muhmdmw mmdfldmfln‘ As-ytiodyJoII-dfiildb. mmmuhfil’n Without me as your antagonist. lsllher on layer afler layer. Regadless of the weqions used. by Sharon Rolrm I cannot conquer those words -by Sham Relent- Fullyfiailqiiarhhwuthee-dum. Cmmndfltlydadwm-flyfolow. -by Sharon am ' Anjaleok Flowers: “Brotherly Stages” Boyhood l vois \Il years old and sitting on the front porm of my gray house on Howe Avenue. NW snim had melted. and hadn‘t yet fallen again. but it was still a chilly day in \Viscon- sin the sky was still ii bright blue. but it was beginning to approach evening. My brother \Altu was playing in the backyard suddenly came around to the front with a beautiful pink and while very girly looking bike It was my first bike and l was extremely elated. My heart w.ts beating iii it very rapid speed. and my smile was wide enough to swallow up my entire sit )t‘llfrtlld body I loved the pink banana shaped seat it had. and the snow-white handlebars. I jumped up off of the [torch and looked at my brother standing there with his creamy ivory slim. short black haiir-. which he cut because the boys used to tease him about look- ing like it girl I peered into his hazelnut eyes with total gratitude and said. “ Is it mine. Marlow "" lle siiid. “Yeah silly. it ain't mine " I didn't even care that he had Just called me silly. He was the best person in the world to me :it that moment lhe thought ot how my brother was able to get me the bike quickly flashed through my mind. but the thought left me Just as quickly when he called me by my middle name and wild. “ t)L.iy. Muknha. get on " Mtirloss held the bike up for me as I climbed on. He helped me position my hands on the h.indleb.irs It telt weird but I trusted him because he wu my big brother and he had done something \ery niee tor me Before he began to push me while holding onto the bank ot the baiuna seat I said very wondenngly. “ Marlow ssh) did you get me a bike"" He had nes er gotten me anything before. so I was surprised. We never argued a lot. and got along okay. but it seemed weird that he was being so nice to me. Marlow stood there tlieking his fingers as he always did when he was nervous or thinking about some- thing llis eyes mlled up tovsards the sky quickly and then came back down in a full cir- \‘k He replied “ Well. Esster is next week. so I had to get you something. right?” "Right." I smiled Marlow 's cheeks had been a flaming fire red for the lat ten minutes. and that same cold air vs as noss causing my cheeks to turn pink. As I rude I becarm more energized eaeh time I misled leould nde forever Itast the ice flavored air in my mouth. and named tor the time when the snow would fall My smile was still pasted on my face. the insisleot my but) wasssami. arulttlehwgoultoberitfiagabike. Wehadbeen practicing t‘orahoutr‘enty Wand Marlow wassnllholdingootothebaekofthe biket'ornie. Whatappearedtobewhirsaencameouofhsmlhuhetheaemdto letgoot me lwasiemt'iddbegged himnottupleaihnginmybestbabyhkevoiee. It hadmatt‘n‘tmeletmegoany‘ay lteganmleanalmostmlyafierhreleased iiie.butheeaughtmeandthebskemumebeforelh-lbaedtoofx. Herepefidlykld mantletniegsxaganaoilagainaodgm Immulastalmlebitloager‘nth» out leaning‘ttheat‘hrelease lit-as ndingthroughthewt-Lladlfellikeitw'lherh monies“ Marlow anllweregtgghngwithenmauwamwba halt thMMthudhku.flMbI-uwflmenger thanlhadesermhershma. Malon- NMMdIMIwa-‘tfmu beinxuutn‘mbeshh'tmmubemmemm lbokedbxkdfoflh atgmhiuandxtutou Quasar-routines“. Imuhh‘t-dersa-il-h Mouth-er Sh‘hh‘tsbebemfu-Lforbotolmlgotarwlate.‘ Marlow pittt'wme Webegumm‘houwga‘h Ihppedddk Mean-tin) M‘her‘alknlitamgikh MMMQMH skint-mum“ aM‘nu‘eJthlhslub‘inwthmnaruidh fawnkbobb)‘ M Grahwuas‘wo-whosnodfrwfiam Nails! l‘nhkeberna) [fists-perrme Miran. sktkcahdbrnsem NM} Maberafiersunfiumedawap slew-fluke.) new. h awnmmm‘flhuflmmahonm buofl “mutual-mueska very sweet. 3M- up“ My WWI, mmufikhns Mfiuhdsanh-ybieio-mebe. fill“- stesxflh‘twm hwodlbWHe-hkpuu-h Memmurealy fie. She‘hmakntgm-Mwifi pasvkitbeh‘edu [knew hunwuutcfi‘iumu agrahat‘wtt‘fiaway-y (matte. Skmdbdkm‘wly’ throughout Marlow's teenage years. and I always give presents for Easter. Imitmd . It was springtimeandeverything aroundmewas noisy. ltwasn‘tthebirdsthatwere overwhelmingmewith songs. it was allot the activity that was goingonin myhousethat day. “rephonerangofithehookanddishesclattered. Thehousesmelledofsausage. eggs.andpine sol. My grandma.Marlow.andlhadjustfinishedahurriedbreakfast. Marlowranupanddownthestain. Hemoved quicklyandanxiously. Grandmawaa ner- vousasusual. She also movedatanexpedient pace. but it appeared as if sheweregoing nowhere. She came backtothekitchen table several times. only to getuponceagaa'n. Hafaeehadjuabeeninnodmedwinfustwnnkks.uidhereynknkedhfldm andworry. lthoughtshewould transform intoanocean of tearsatany given Will. I didn't haveaclueastowhat was really goingon. Noonebotheredtotalktomeandlet meinonthebigsecret. lwentouttositorithefmntporch,aridmybestfriendKieaha came overtoplay. Shehadthreeblack pigtailsandhuge glasses. We racedonemothera few timeslwas quicklyboredafter winningthreetimes. ltoldherlwas going inside for awhile.andshewenthome. lnoticedayellowcabwaitingbehindmrhouae.andMar- low was carrying his suitcase outtothesunlit car. Grandrnahelped him withsomelighter bags. Takingainimr'breakfromhisrushedroutine. Marlow finally walked overtome. Grandma yelled. " Come on Marlow. you don't wanna miss you Marlowgaverneaquick hug. lfeltsad.sornething inside ofinetoldinehewasn't coming back. ldidn‘tknowwherehewas going.butitlfelt it wu probably flaway. Hehurriedlysaid.“0kaysis.l'llseeyoulater."andranouttohiacab. lwatehedhimfromthebackdoor. Mybrotherleltmeattheageofninestmdingin Mdoorwayveryconfusedbutnotsadentaightocry. ltwaathefirsttimesomeonehad khmelkmnwhisbagsmdsuitcaseinwmuunkJndjuwedintotheuaiaher grandma Hewavedtorneforawhilejuthedisqpeledinsothedayligll veryquickly. lt‘sfunnyhowldm'tevenremeniberhimpackinglusbagsnherewasjustthisbeitoom thatnoonewasusingallofasudden. Whenmygranthnacunebackhomesheeaplained wmedntMarlowhadgonetohvewithmencleChflordiaOakMCahfm Clif- fordwagrantkna‘sywngeatson.Gandsnahadaualofeifllchilfiemfoulnysnd fourgirls.andsevenwerestillalive.Cliflordwhowasnowsomewhereialislfietwen- mamymw-mmmm Builcah'tderstadwhyhh- lowwasgoingtoCalifornia DidhewulClifbrd'scta’lfieaforlishlother-dihtus MdfimhMmaaMmfienum‘bbwflmdb-flg mmmmmumiwmnw-immam- thymningbytheir-ghgvoices. MW‘MM.Hh-Iomp. lfyouodyk-wtepeopleyu-e lduu'tkaow whatndowihynaoflqlu'yworka-yme. Younyoualifiywdol’tb— ien-fagettilyouwnashowyo-Iifeaway.pnghuYa'ieoudeo-ol. M'saoth’nglc-ibmu'syo-lfle.” mythm‘hyah'iMm'nw‘fi-ay. You saywhayoehvetosay-dhleave. lca‘t‘byou. leilw-e manila-.aso-bodywbm-e.” Simmhhfi.mwwbm#"hdm~ “new mummkflem-daWWbua west lb “bunnne‘flmmm-lmmb-a-y rwhnadbetwhulwam-y‘mt $sfl.’$weay.file'sso-fllhebclyoe' hum-uflhdmdm. fiwhufluq “Mbkbhmmh Myeyesheg-hwmahlafln umou‘irflm Mudhfidmuakmiu-y“ dun-halt.- Quuatudwe-MDH «butch-five. lwhudtmym-Oflw .‘seht‘fidhihflfl. 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December 10 1999 John Erimisfitfin Prize page 5 Allison Heimkes: “I Don’t Remember Much” Hospital cleaners, bleach, and sickness pervaded my grandpa’s final room. My elev-year-old throat closed. All my aunts and uncles and cousins were there. We had all found our hiding spot from each other’s eyes... Show moreDecember 10 1999 John Erimisfitfin Prize page 5 Allison Heimkes: “I Don’t Remember Much” Hospital cleaners, bleach, and sickness pervaded my grandpa’s final room. My elev-year-old throat closed. All my aunts and uncles and cousins were there. We had all found our hiding spot from each other’s eyes in the room. The younger cousins hid behind their parents and away from grandpa’s emaciated image. 'Ilte tall boys sat on the radiator in front of grandpa’s window. I had wedged myself behind my dad and in front ofthe bathroom door. My cousin Paul and his mom Kathy stood distantly across the room, not looking above the used and bleached tiles. We were not the fust farme to gather in this room. My elder sister and protector was in the room, but she wasn’t near me. When I peeked out from my niche, I could only see grandpa’s skin. It was lighter than normal because of the leukemia and the sun light that cut around the family from the window and shone on him. I moved out of my spot to just talk to grandpa, like my dad had told me to do. I trembled as I walked forward and touched the rough cotton sheet that covered his thin frame. His small body settled into his hospital bed and he became a part of it. Grandpa's red-orange skin was lighter than normal, but still strongly contrasted the gleam off his clean sheets. In the summer, his skin was dark orange and felt like leather. His wrinkles were dis- tinct and deep on his hands and face. They continued into his face around his eyes and mouth when he smiled. He told my cousin Josh and me that he was an Indian. Thinking my grandpa as the ultimate in truth, I believed in his heritage. When mom and dad told me my thinking was wrong, I was humiliated. ' My class was preparing for the grandparent’s day events. All three of my grandpar- ents were coming. My mom’s dad died before when I was two years old, so my grandpa was special. To get in the spirit of things, we sang Grandpa’s Taking me to the Zoo Tomorrow, and were told to write a short story and draw a picture of our grandpas. I wrote my story on the recycled gray paper with two solid red horizontal lines and the blue dotted line in-between that helps new writers space their letters correctly. Above the lines there was a spot for the creative mind to draw a picture. I drew my grandpa first and used the red—orange crayon for his skin, and a white crayon for his hair. Next I drew myself. I drew really lightly with the peach crayon for my plump cheeks. I used the yellow gold for my bobbed hair and short bangs, and red for my sweater that went over a white turtleneck. The brown crayon pressed deep into the paper to draw my new glasses that I had already broken. Most people saw two blobs of color when they passed my paper, but I saw my grandpa and I. My second grade teacher had short permed brown hair that added two inches all around her head. She looked like a well-groomed chia pet. As she wandered past my desk, she asked why I had used red-orange for my grandpa rather than peach like I used for my drawing. “Because he’s an Indian,” was my obvious reply. My parents came home from my spring conference laughing. “Honey. grandpa‘s not an Indian. He was just teasing you,” were the first words my mother could giggle. “You have blond hair, blue eyes, and pale as can be; your grandpa‘s not an Indian.” My dad added to my humiliation. “You have to use 45 sunblock when you go outside in the wintertime. honey!" ‘ How was I supposed to know he was kidding? I wanted to say, but I couldn’t. I never assumed that grandpa did not tell me the truth. I just laughed along with my parents I know now that grandpa wasn’t an Indian, but there is a slight twinge of potential belief in the back of my mind. His skin was pale today, though. He didn’t look like an Indian. Clear plastic tribes were shoved in his nostrils and he spoke very softly. The tubes must have blocked his parched vocal chords. I had to walk closer toward him to hear his whisper, “I‘ve got a secret.” We’d had our secret as long as I can remember. As the baby. I am naturally grandma's and grandpa's favorite. My sister played with our other female cousin Michelle at big family holiday parties, because they were both girls and about the sameage. The five boy cousins played baseball or scared me in the Red Room. Josh and Aaron lured me into the Red Room and tortured me. They turned off the lights and let their voices rise and fall on pitches that deemed ominous ghosts. Lightweight scarves that grandma wore when she was young whipped across my face until I screamed with terror. The empty room with blank white walls and red carpet housed a comforting objects, like a stationary bike, a desk made of light wood. and a matching chair with an avocado-green plastic seat. Also, grandma’s address book with a pink peony lay on top of the desk. In its drawer were books like Butch Cas- sidy and the Sundanoe Kid, and on the cover of the red book was a bunny eating a carrot. But you can‘t see those things in the dark. I ran out of their red room of games to grandpa. Grandpa always gave me his attention. We played games, talked. and read—whatever I wanted. really-but grandpa and I shared something that he didn’t have with any other of his grandchildren. We had a secret. I wandered around the cream living room carpet, surrounded by cream couches. mauve chairs. and a cream chair with gold stitching that spun all the way around, careful that I did not tip over the lamp with the pocket watch display. Grandpa would call me from his mauve chair that leaned back. “Allison, come here. I’ve got a secret." grandpa whispered, smiled with his wrinkles, and patted his lap. I walked toward him pretending I did not know what he was going to say. I leaned my ear toward his mouth-meanwhile cozying up next to him and finally sitting on his lap by the time he whispered, “I love you." I cupped my hand around his ear and my mouth and whispered inadvertently loudly totheroom.“llovcyoutoo,grandpa." 'I‘henlsatonhislapashestartedtostmke my straight shimmery hair that looked like freshly—spun honey. My sister's and my hair turned into one of grandpa‘s party tricks. Christmas Eve was the one day that the entire fantin went to grandma's and grandpa’s church. Before we processed into the sanctuary. where all of the cousins' heads tilted upwards to count the boards on the ceiling to avoid boredom. grandpa had Jennifer and I shake our heads around, mess up our hair. and have it immediately return to normal. Grandpa‘s pride - filled the small narthex packed with every elderly person in Chaska Grandpa‘shandranthmugh myhairindiehospitalthatconfusingdayinMay. He toldrnetobeagoodgirlashecuppedmyblondhairandsoftcheekinhishand. He cleared his throat silently and said, “I have a secret." I whispered back and leaned toward him, “What‘s your secret, grandpa?” His hand shook as it moved away from my cheek. Iknewgrandpawusickonmy tenthOuistmasEveatgrandpa's. lworeaChrist— hmaifiamansmimharderthancouon. andloouldfeeltheplaceswheretheplaidsova‘lapped. Myblondhairwasatchin— hogthandmompufledbackandhelditwitharedfahricbowdntwaswidathanmy “Honey, grandpa’s not an Indian. He was just teasing you.” head. The sleeves on the dress were long and had a ruffle at the wrist, like the bottom of the dress. My sister and my cousin Michelle had both worn this dress. The same brown plastic glasses sat too far back on the bridge of my nose. That Christmas grandpa wasn‘t as energetic and excited as usual. He usually didn’t let grandma do everything for him, but that day he sat on the hard cream couch most of the day. He picked up a glass of well water that sat on a bamboo coaster, toward the edge of the round coffee table. His hand descended with the glass. The glass shook so badly that I imagined all the water spilling out and onto the mahogany coffee table. I tried to steady grandpa‘s hand by wrapping my hand around his, but I couldn’t control the shaking. My hand shook as well. My eyes widened as my nane face turned toward my grandpa as he turned away from my stare. A hand on my shoulder led me away from that scene. My parents did not talk and my sister pretended to go to sleep during the forty minute car ride home. They thought I was asleep, too. I stared at the darkness with wide eyes and pupils. “I love you,” my grandpa whispered to me for the last time. “I love you too, grandpa." I answered him quietly, noting the sombemess that surrounded me. After I shared my secret with him, I walked to the other side of the bed. No one had told me that was the last time I would see him, but I knew. But I didn‘t tell anyone that I knew. When I was about four years old. my sister Jennifer won the science fair at her clc— mentary school. Her prize was that her project would be judged at Mankato State with other elementary school winners. My parents thought I would be bored at the all-day sci- ence fair, and it was Jennifer‘s special day. so they dropped me off at grandma‘s and grandpa’s for the day. First, grandpa and I washed his maroon car. It was an old person‘s kind of car: long and wide, with seats that you sink into and have to be pulled out with a rope. like you see them do in movies with people in stuck in quicksand. After we washed the car. we had lunch: turkey and orange cheese sandwiches on white bread, carrots. and chocolate chip cookies from the freezer. Next, I combed grandpa’s hair with the small plastic comb that never breaks. Grandpa always kept his comb in his front shirt pocket. I now realize that grandpa was balding. He had the rim of hair over his ears and the back half of his head, but he only had a few hairs growing on the front of his head. He performed the classic comb-back. He probably didn’t fool many people, but he fooled me! It didn‘t bother me, though. There was enough hair for a granddaughter to comb. After beauty parlor. grandpa and I walked down the wooden stairs that led from the house to the yard. Grandpa painted them with red oil paint. Grandpa grabbed a spade along the way to the back garden. Grandma yelled to us from the back stairs. “Now don’t you go digging up any of my potatoes!" When we got to the garden. grandpa asked me, “Should we see how the potatoes are doing?” I stared at him with big eyes and said, “But grandma told us not to!” He started dig- ging during my admonishment. I ran toward the house screaming, “He did it. grandma! He dug up a potato!” Grandpa caught up to me as I reached the frog garden and started tickling me. I fell down giggling so that I could not control my body. He picked me up off his full green grass, set me on my feet, grabbed my hand, and we walked into Ihc house. He and I were a team for cribbage against grandma. We never beat her. but we had a good time. Grandma was on her own team again in that hospital room. She hrid fifteen people rooting for her, but her best player was on the bench. There were sixteen Heimkes all together in that roomy—eight adults and eight kids—but we were all alone. It was quiet. No one spoke above a mumble. It was the kind of talk when the bad situation would be too obvious if we whispered, but the talk was softer than normal because we were in a bad situation. My tall cousins, Aaron and Paul, were standing in the fur corner of the room. Aaron was wearing a pull over white short sleeved shirt with three buttons near the collar. It was the same shirt that he wore the day of grandma’s and grandpa‘s 50th wedding anniversary party. That Sunday we hired a photographer to the party in my grandparents‘ church. After the service that Sunday, we took group shots of our entire family in the sanctuary. We took individual family shots outside in the park across the street from the church. When grandpa went outside, his glasses turned dark. He had glasses that change from no tint indoors to sunglasses outdoors. That way he would only have one pair to lose, rather than two. In all of our outdoor pictures. his eyes are hidden. Two years later, his eyes are hidden again as he lay in his hospital bed. They‘ve sunk into his head a bit, no longer resembling my grandpa in thc Silth anniversary picture. That picture hangs in the dining room where we had Thanksgiving. Christmas, liuslcr, and birthdays. We were celebrating my grandma's birthday that day in the barren hospital room. We had carrot cake in the hospital room for the worst birthday party in our family’s history. I was closest to the door and grandma. Everyone had a piece of cake. including grandpa. It was orange with raisins and butter frosting on the top. A pathetic Ionc carrot lay on the top of every piece. Aunt Kathy said, “Allison, why don't you sing ‘lluppy Birthduy’ for grandma?" I knew why she had asked me. I was in a girls’ choir. and she was nervous. She‘d say anything to break the tension that everyone felt. But I wasn‘t going to sing in front of my whole family. And especially not Happy Birthday on probably the second worst day of grandma’s life. So far this was the worst. As my aunt started the song on a flat and airy note, I thought our singing was weird for another reason: we never sing Happy Birthday. My grandma started to cry, but my grandpa sang every word. He didn’t actually sing any words. His jaw opened on every syllable, but his mouth just dropped open as saliva glistened the comers of his mouth. After the sad song, we all ate our cake— even grandpa. The next day was Mother’s Day. Mom and dad shook me out of a light sleep at 5:30 a.m. and said they were going to the hospital to be with grandma. Jennifer was at home, though, so I would not be alone. I did not comprehend my parent’s leaving when they talked to me. I did understand when I got up and they had left Jennifer and I alone. We got up that morning and went to church. After a service that I don’t remember, we walked out the doors and stepped into the parking lot when my sister turned toward me. “You know that Grandpa will probabl y dic today,” she said calmly. “I know," I responded, but I didn’t know. That thought was too much for me to try and understand. Even after the hospital and saying I love you one last time, I could not believe that he would actually die. I tried to convince myself that Jenv nifer was kidding. but I was too old to actually accept that. mflbonfimfluchma Show less
‘ Deeernber10,l999 1 fire " do Volume 106 Issue 9 V. No. l . t t l ‘- r I Augsburg is mady for Y2K By Jennifer Rensenbrink Stat! Writer Augsburg’s IT department is tak- ing a few precautions this New Year's Eve, but the system is ready for Y2K. “IT stafi have been working hard this Fall making... Show more‘ Deeernber10,l999 1 fire " do Volume 106 Issue 9 V. No. l . t t l ‘- r I Augsburg is mady for Y2K By Jennifer Rensenbrink Stat! Writer Augsburg’s IT department is tak- ing a few precautions this New Year's Eve, but the system is ready for Y2K. “IT stafi have been working hard this Fall making final prepara- tions of campus information sys- tems for Y2K,” said Stu Anderson, Associate Dean for Library and Information Technol- ogy. Augsburg actually started prepar- ing for Y2K in 1997, when 2000 still seemed like a long way off for most of us. According to Anderson, the preparation involved software and hardware upgrades and testing. “No problems of any conse- quence for the college have been found, so we'll be ready and relaxed as the clock rolls over,“ said Anderson. As a precautionary measure, AugNet will be offline, along with other IT systems, from 3 pm. on December 31 to 3 pm. on January 1. This means there will be no access to e-mail or the Augsburg website during those 24 hours. Students will not be able to access the intemet through computers connected to the college network during this time. However, phone systems, includ- ing voicemail, will be active throughout the transition into 2000. The administrative computer sys- tem, the AS/400, is also taking a vacation over New Year’s. It will be offline all day both the 3lst and the lst, to accommodate stan- dard backup procedures. The AS/400 administrative sys— tem supports student data like academic records, financial aid, etc. “At the moment, we are currently undertaking minor ‘mop-up’ operations relating to some of the older campus PCs,” said Ander- son. “The main, and unquantifiable, concern is the human element— that certain folks might manufac- ture data- or power systems IS Issue: USA will ring in New Year’s Eve at home, page 2 John Engman prize winners announced, page 3 Three poems by Vicki Aman, page 6 Andrea Cobery: “Summer Breeze”, page 9 Take in the Holidazzle parade!, page 12 trouble in the guise of Y2K—and it is this unknown that we are pro- tecting against.” “We expect to have an uneventful and relaxing New Year's holiday and wish the same to the entire campus." said Anderson. Students and faculty receiving “racial purity” mailings from Augsburg Alum, Elroy Stock Laura Walden Co-Editor in Chief In 1987, Elroy Stock, a 1949 graduate of Augsburg College, donated $500,000 to Augsburg to help finish the construction of Foss Center. Nine months later, it was discovered that Stock had been the author of an estimated 100,000 controversial mailings that advocated racial purity and religious preservation. Although Stock told the ECHO in 1989 that he stopped sending his mailings, several Augsburg fac- ulty members and students reported that they have received letters from Stock within the past few years. “I have received letters from [Stock] for over 13 years." said Vivian Jenkins-Nelsen, president and CEO of the Interraee Institute at Augsburg, “and I still get let- ters from “Elroy Stock is alive and well and still distributing hate mail even in the late ‘905," stated Boyd Koehler, associate professor and librarian at Augsburg and a mem- ber of an interracial marriage. Koehler reported that his family has received Stock’s ‘fpostal venom” for several years, and that his family was still. receiving let- ters from Stock up to one year ago. Junior Becky Stensvaag also reported getting a letter from Stock that opposes interracial adoptions. “I got a letter from him my freshman year," said Stensvaag. “After I was just barely mentioned in a Minnesota paper . . . he somehow knew from my last name what my back- ground was and that I had been adopted into a biracial family.” WTO confemnce a Jesse Woodrotfe News Editor On Tuesday, November 30. the streets outside the Seattle’s Para- mount Theater Were congested with thousands of protesters, all intent on stopping the opening eu'emonies of the World Trade Organization's third Ministerial Conference. Although the pro testus succeeded in delaying the ceremony, they couldn‘t stop it. Following the incident on the 30th. Seattle was placed in a tem- porary state of ~martial law. which lasted until the conference‘s end. The talks, which ended last week, have been described as a political and have inspired a round ’ of “finger-pointing" among the members of the WTO. Europe is blaming the US. for the failure, while Australia is blaming both Europe and the U.S., and all three have pointed the finger at India, Brazil, and Egypt (for their refusal to include labor rights as part of the negotiations). However, many others simply agree with Euro- pean Union Trade Commissioner Pascal Lamy when he says that it’s “a global problem.” Another problem, according to Lamy. is that the W'ID “has ambi— tions that exceed its capabilities." Composed of 134 member coun- tries, the W10 is the successor to the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, which had been in existence since the end of World War H. The WTO was created to regulate trade between its member countries. Since its establishment. the WTO has been under fire. Its critics “As far as I know, even today he feels that it is a ‘corruption of God‘s planm to have people of different races getting married and adopting children, said President \Villiam Frame during an ECHO interview in October. “Of course, the College entirely disagrees with that." ' According to a 1989 ECHO arti— cle written by Steve Aggergaard, Stock said that his letters were a “mission” intended to “preserve [his] Scandinavian religious her- itage.” Stock said that he saw beauty in all of the races, but that he felt that they should not intermix. “It was all love from my heart," Stock told Aggergaard. “There was absolutely no hate in it." However, many people do not see Stock’s “mission” as a mission of love. “flop” believe that it has been given too much power to, according to one opponent, “advance the globaliza— tion of the world economy at the expense of the right to self—rule." This refers to the fact that the pacts formed by the WTO dele— gates can take precedence over the policies of its member coun- tries. By this, it is possible for the WTO to overturn the laws of its member countries, and establish new laws as well. “It‘s not a democracy," said Uni- versity of Washington Professor Phi] Bardino, “there’s no partici- pation or notice as to what is hap- pening." Among those who have spoken out against the WTO is Reform party presidential candi— date Pat Buchanan. According to Buchanan, “Globalization will usurp America’s ability to protect its own economic interests.” “He has caused chaos and upset and sadness and anger . . . just about every negative emotion you can imagine within my family." stated Jenkins-Nelsen. After Augsburg initially discov— ered that Stock was the author of the anonymous mailings. the Col- lege kept Stock‘s donation. but they did not follow through with plans to name the communication wing of Foss Center after Stock. However. Stock revived the issue with Augsburg this fall when he “asked that either the honor [of his donation] be conveyed by naming the wing of the communi— cations building after him . . . or by returning him his money," reported Frame. Stock contacted a lawyer this fall to bring up a suit against the Col- lege for not honoring his dona— tions as others‘ donations have been honored in the past. but Frame doubts that legal action will be taken in this case. “Our lawyer does not believe that [Stock] could succeed in estab— lishing standing for the stake of launching a suit." said Frame. Although Augsburg refuses dona- tions from Stock “as of this fiscal year." started lda Simon. Vice President for Institution Advance— ment and Community Relations at Augsburg. Stock‘s presence is still felt on campus. “[Stock‘s] influence has contin— ued to grow. His affect has been undiminishcd. Almost every class I teach there is one person. maybe more, who has received this mail from him. It's incredible how far he has reached,“ said Jenkins- Nelsen. News Brief: Gunshots fired in Murphy Park Early Sunday morning. December 5, 1999. Minneapolis Police investigated the sound of three or four gunshots from Murphy Park. There were several people in the area who reported seeing a blue 4x4-type vehicle, possibly a Bronco or Blazer. from which the shots appeared to have been fired. Police stopped and checked several vehicles in the area matching the description. One 9 mm. casing was found in the park. Campus Security and Residence Life Staff worked with Min- neapolis Police to keep students and guests inside until the inci» dent was investigated. Individuals who may have witnessed the incident or who may have information about the incident are encouraged to contact Campus Security. Campus Security Officers can provide an escort on campus; if you would like an escort, or have concerns. please call ext. l7 l 7. Augsburg / Show less
December 10, 1999 .0 o s'S’Features USA will ring in Y2K at home Dana Determan Staff Writer So you've withdrawn all your money from the bank, stockpiled the last of the canned goods, bought plenty of battery powered lights and radios. and are now sitting in your home-made bunker prepared for... Show moreDecember 10, 1999 .0 o s'S’Features USA will ring in Y2K at home Dana Determan Staff Writer So you've withdrawn all your money from the bank, stockpiled the last of the canned goods, bought plenty of battery powered lights and radios. and are now sitting in your home-made bunker prepared for major world catastrophe. The only problem is that you‘re bored because that party hat, champagne, and noisernakerjUst isn‘t a whole lot of fun in your Y2K ready fortress. So you begin to wonder: What are others around the nation doing to celebrate the momentous occasion? Surprisingly. not a lot. A Time Magazine article by James Poniewozik in the November 29. 1999 issue. "Auld Lang Sigh." states that. “According to a Yankelovich poll for Time and CNN. 72% of Ameri- cans say they are not planning to do ‘something spe— cial‘ on New Year‘s Eve. Instead. many will be Y2Kocooning. holding more subdued. intimate Observances with family and friends. The downsizing of New Year's Eve is a logical reac- tion to that conspicuous, late—second-millennium phenomenon of runaway hype. We‘ve seen years of countdowns, retrospectives, and magazine special issues. On the one hand, the passing of a thousand years is staggering for a mortal with an 80 years' life span to comprehend; on the other. its commercialization ren- ders it somewhat trivial. No wonder some people are stepping back to mark the occasion in a small- scale, personal way. Hopefully now you don‘t feel like as big of a loser as you did before, knowing that while the majority of other Americans aren‘t spending their energy worry- ing about the impending cataclysmic destruction, many are opting for a quiet evening at home-- instead of trying to start out the first morning of the new Millennium with the world’s biggest hangover. Christmas shopping on-Iine Grant Jordahl Staff Writer The sound a modern makes as it connects to the intemet is one of the most annoying sounds in the world. but this year. its music to the ears of online retailers. On November 26. the busiest shopping day of the year, Yahoo! Shopping (www.yahoo.com) saw a 400% increase in sales over the same day last year. Why the increase? People have started to realize that they can purchase goods over the intemet much more easily than going to the mall. The Internet is like a neverending mail that is open 24 hours a day and always has a parking spot right by the entrance. Where else but the Internet can one buy an American Eagle (www.ae.com) shirt in their underwear at 3 am? People are. at times, reluctant to purchase things from the Internet for a number of reasons. These reasons include shipping costs. not being able to touch what you buy. and credit card security con— cems. The cost of shipping and handling should not be an issue during this holiday season. The shipping rate, no matter how bad it may seem. is almost always a deal for the consumer. Buying online allows people to save money on gas, wear and tear on the car. and time wasted going and coming to and from the mall. After all is said and done, the price of ship— ping and handling doesn’t seem like such a rip-off after all. The most popular products bought on the Internet include: music, books, and computer soft- ware. These are perfect Internet products because a person has no need to touch, feel, or try them on. Clothes are one of hardest things to sell on the Internet. but the online shops that sell them are still in abundance. The security of Internet shopping is safe as long as you follow a few simple guidelines. First of all. when making a purchase that seems too good to be true. guess what? It probably is! Always remember to buy from companies that you have heard of or you have done business with before. Usually staying with larger com- panies is a safe bet. Also, when entering your credit card num- bers, make sure the connection you are on is a “secure” one; that way your credit card numbers will be encrypted. (Look for a lit- tle padlock in your status bar when using Internet Explorer). But while shopping online is increasing every year, don‘t worry about your local mall dis- appearing anytime soon. This year online shopping for the holi- days will account for 10 percent of the total amount spent. Not too bad for something that only had a 3 percent share last year. Looking for shopping on the intemet? Clothing: abercrombie.com. gap.c0m, and ae.c0m. Music/Movies: amazon.c0m. and cdnow.com. Computer Software: ebworld.com. cnet.com. MSJ 9 page 2 The Top 10 Movies of 1999 Emily Nugent . staff ertet, ., As the year and the millennium come to an end it is important to look back on the movies that will define our era. Because there has been such a diverse array of movies put out this year, it is hard to judge what is actually good and what is a waste of time and money. I have compiled a list of my personal favorites for you to check out so that your future video store runs can go a little more smoothly. 10. The Sixth Sense: Out of all the poorly done horror movies lately, this drama was actually much more creepy than a certain project we all know of. 9. An Ideal Husband: A beautifully executed English comedy about manners. It also has real English actors playing English people! Tons of star power and some great performances. 8. 60!: This action/comedy/drama/éverything is a perfect movie to watch if you want some fast paced fun. It’s like Pulp Fiction without all the gimps and shooting. Perfectly enjoyable. 7. Lock, Stock and 2 Smoking Barrels: Another example of the new Pulp-esque genre. This movie is a crazy joy—ride. Infused with great cinematography and a witty plot, this is a great pick for the action ori- ented set. 6. Boys Don ’t Cry: An insightful and dark take on the touchy issues of human sexuality. Beautiful performances and a horrific finale makes this movie stick with you. 5. Afterlife: A little hyped movie, but a truly inventive flick. Ques- tions like, “What happens when we die?” and “What would be the defining moment in your life?" leave your brain on overdrive. 4. South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut: Yeah, yeah, let's see how offensive a ninety minute block of time can be. But this was just about the funniest movie I have ever seen. Necessary viewing for anyone who has a sick, sarcastic sense of comedy. 3. Being John Malkovich: This movie is weird. So weird that I couldn’t help falling in love with it. Just let it take you where it wants you to go. And it doesn’t matter if you like, or don‘t like, John Malkovich. 2. American Beauty: I hope this movie becomes a classic. It‘s a beautiful, insightful look at our modern society, with a truly timeless message. Kevin Spacey can start writing his speech now. 1. Eyes Wide Shut: Possibly one of the best movies ever made. Def- initely the best this year. Its masterfully simplistic cinematography and artful imagery are breathtaking. The acting is near perfection, and the characters' relationships are extraordinarily complex. It is about so much more that it seems. Completely underappreciated in its own era. hopefully it will be seen as the wonderful film that it is sometime in the future. Brilliant. Velkommen Jul serves up some great lefse Jason Wegner Faith Editor Velkommen Jul. the traditional Norwegian celebra- tion to welcome the Christmas season. was cele- brated at Augsburg last Friday. The chapel service was packed to the rafters with students, alumni, and members of the Augsburg Association. Traditional Scandinavian hymns and carols were sung to usher in the Advent Season. St. Nicholas also paid a visit to the chapel service. St. Nicholas is the figure that is comparable to the United States‘ Santa Claus. St. Nicholas Day is cel- ebrated on December S. The legend goes that if children leave their shoes out on the night of December 4, St. Nicholas will leave goodies in them. Following the service, there was Norwegian food served in Christensen Center. Many desserts, such as lef'se. rice pudding, and Norwegian cake were served. 1 had the opportunity to talk with several of the alumni who attended the event. They told stories of when they attended Augsburg in the forties and early fifties. One of the men said that he could remember when President Bernard Christiansen busted up a card playing party in one of the dorm rooms in Memor- ial Hall. The alum also reflected on the time he was called into the president’s office. The alum was a member of the University Lutheran Church choir, which was not affiliated with Augsburg College. President Christiansen congratulated the man, but requested that he sing in a church choir that financially sup- ported the College. The student agreed, but two weeks later returned to the University Lutheran Church choir because no one in the Augsburg choir would talk to him. At the time, he thought he was quite a rebel. The stories that were shared between many of the students and the alumni allowed for an opportunity to bridge the history of the college with the present college student body. Velkommen Jul serves an important role in con- necting the college's roots and celebrating the com- ing of Christ in the Advent season. Laura Waldon/‘ECHO Augsburg alumni celebrate a Norwegian tradition by dishing out letse and other ethnic foods. .9.“ ,.. .—-. -....,..m., ,» v-W- Show less
December 10, 1999 d O O Q- ypse
Show moreDecember 10, 1999 d O O Q- ypse < 1 Features /)(’(Y/' Bre nan Al Brendan and Allison Future rulers of the ECHO Dear Reader (We figure there is probably only one of you): Since this is the first time we’ve written some— thing together. we thought we should introduce ourselves -- because we are going to be around for a long time. regardless of gross slan‘derous remarks or ridicule of our column. We are Bren- dan and Allison. We are choosing not to disclose our last names to protect the innocent (See above picture. Aren‘t we cute?). We wear many hats on campus. Allison has an American Eagle hat she is quite fond of, while Brendan's are more towards the superhero genre. Brendan is a sophomore music major: he writes music for the concert band, and chews Winterfresh gum. Allison is an English major: she works in the President’s Office. and is no longer an enlight- ened moron. Since we‘re sure you‘re wondering. we‘re madly in love and plan to get married on September 28, 2002 (no. we‘re not engaged yet. but you’re not invited anyway). To display our overwhelming genius and reasoning (not to mention good looks and wit). we have decided to tackle the controver- sial subject of trays in the cafeteria. What’s up with those. anyway? Okay. next subject: scan cards. Why do we need them? Since we disagree on this issue. 1 (Allison) will start first because I'm older. Brendan and I live in different dorms. My scan card does not work for Mortenson. I have talked with Res. Life sev- eral times, but they keep telling me that my card is not broken. Security is pretty tight around Augsburg, so there is no hope of getting in until Brendan comes to get me. And those elevators smell. Hi. this is Brendan now. So anyway. I don’t know what Allison is muttering about back there. Frankly. I can get into Mortensen just fine. which is good because I live there. It’s actually Ander- son I have a problem getting into. I, too, asked Res. Life to fix my access card, but they said, “There’s nothing wrong with it; now take your toilet paper and get outta here!” Speaking of toilet paper. we both think this is a necessary item. Please carry a stock of it in your backpacks at all times just like we do. It will make your life just a little neater. Now that you have gotten to know us. please do not think we are giving you an invitation to write us senseless drive] over e-mail. We don’t really care what you think about the goings—on around campus. Our e-mail programs have better things to do like download little heart drawings we send each other. Thank you for allowing us to waste 5. 10 (15 if you’re stupid) minutes of your life. Each one is precious. since the world is about to end! The Second Coming of Christ Jason Wegner Bible Banger The Augsburg College Music Department. along with Campus Ministry. prepared the way for Christ‘s Second Coming when they put on Advent Vespers last weekend. President Frame addressed the audience with quotes from Revelation and pro fcssed. “The day of the Lord is at hand. save your- selves from all condemnation!” The President mysteriously disappeared after the first service on Friday night. Rumor has it that he was back at the Augsburg House preparing for the Four Horsemen to come bolting down West River Road. Frame was also reported to be in his office with a lamb ready to be sacrificed if the Lord was to come. Professor Phil Quanbeck is also getting into the spirit of the Second Coming with his Apocalyptic- type semtons held in his Biblical Studies classes every Tuesday and Thursday morning. One student said that RDPQII was pacing back and forth in the classroom preaching like a televagelist and saying. “Je-he-a-su-as is coming to judge us all!" The Student Senate last week also requested that there be more funds allocated to them to better pre- pare the student body for the Apocalypse. President Dave Asp and Vice President Keely Blumentritt con- tacted the Board of Regents to see if there was a wealthy alumn who would donate money to the Col- lege in order to educate students on how best to repent previous to the Judgement of the Lord. The Board of Regents declined the opportunity to com— ment on the request. After many weeks of preparation and anticipation. it is clear that the Augsburg community will be free from the wrath of the Lord. due in large part to the efforts of President William Frame and our student body executive officers. Just remember the coming of the Lord is at hand! Be watching for the Seven Seals and the Four Horse- men in the coming weeks. Club review: Augsburg Atheists Brad Motl One of the Lost Boys This week I had the extreme plea- sure of talking to Kip Dinger. the president of the Augsburg Athe- ists. The club is often refen‘ed to as AA. or A'. for short. The goal and purpose of the Augsburg Atheists is to enrich the Augsburg community with athe— ist view s and propaganda. They also rue try ing to break the long standing misconception that the Atheists are in any way connected to the Augsburg Devil Worship Society. Kip explained that there are no lies except for the Annual Halloween and Valentine‘s Day parties. which are joint parties meant to bring students together for some wholesome fellowship. The size of AA is varying. Right now there are about 25 students involved with the organization. There are no membership require— ments . . . written down. If they did this. Student Senate would cut the club‘s funding. The require— ments not written down include: you must be an atheist. have a cumulative GPA of 1.5. must have a board meal plan. must own the album “Frampton Comes Alive." eat scrambled eggs for breakfast every morning. and do your own laundry. They also stress the fact that no religion majors may join. but other than that. students are welcome to attend. The Atheists meet every Sunday night at 7:30. right after The Simpsons. In conclusion. Kip said. referring to the Augsburg Atheists. "We just want people to stop laughing at us and give Atheism a chance!" Photo courtesy of a random guy’s website. White security officer Big Bad Bob racing to the rescue of fellow officer. Caucasian Slim Shrops, who was being threatened by a white Augsburg student. Student attacked by Augsburg security Says it was a “racial issue” Baron Von Manilowe. Again Last week. Augsburg Security detained a Caucasian male in the Umess/Mortensen lobby for ver- bally abusing and threatening the Security booth officer. The on- duty officers then detained the student “due to his violent man- ner and verbal threats.” The stu- dent (who wishes to remain anonymous), however, has a dif- ferent story altogether. “It’s because of my skin color. I wasn’t guilty of anything but being in the wrong place to be white." Student X claims the officers used excessive force in detaining him. leaving him with bruises and minor cuts. because he is white. Added X. “Augsburg needs to get some non-racist offi- cers. How can the white students here feel safe if they don’t?" Slim Shrops, the booth officer on duty at the time. strongly dis— agrees. “We respect all races. even whites. The student was out of line. threatening the safety of the officers. We did what was necessary." The issue is being brought before Residence Life next week. Shove Poor pay. No benefits. little opponurily. What's not to love? We're hlrlng Copy Edilon. Layout Editors and writers. Come to our office. Anyday, anytime, Chrlslemen Cellar. Cooper's Attic, Augsburg College. To learn more cdl 612-330-1102. We're at equal opportunity employer. Show less
December 10, 1999 madman-dflbehindmlfllfrmatthewpofthe stairs,blinded bythiflflmfifilcouldbelmymseyes seadringmyfaeeJlookeddownat fiMmeeyeefiomlnemmdmydnrglmfmmmymodieelknewthat “umbmifldeofm 'Iky‘mgmdecideifthiswouldbemywnckandruin, lumeflnwouldpeh unmanageMynnherwasstandingwiththerestofmy hilybelidethe... Show moreDecember 10, 1999 madman-dflbehindmlfllfrmatthewpofthe stairs,blinded bythiflflmfifilcouldbelmymseyes seadringmyfaeeJlookeddownat fiMmeeyeefiomlnemmdmydnrglmfmmmymodieelknewthat “umbmifldeofm 'Iky‘mgmdecideifthiswouldbemywnckandruin, lumeflnwouldpeh unmanageMynnherwasstandingwiththerestofmy hilybelidethe WmmlwmdmsermathertogoawayJwantedtotell Ind togoaway.blrtlwu-mbandmotiredtospeak.Mybloodraneoldasl wfldledmykodnmdcouimcarymyhao,myconstantdownmesteps.1‘hey lifted hdhymewboximothebackofthebhckcanandmybrotherslammed thedoonThe m-dofmedoorclouingreaomdtlnoudrmymindandpcneu’ated mysoul.Asourcar Whheuruehnodngraveyflldecidedthatmaybe therewasnolovingGod. , Imodbdlindlhepfiduwuhuddleduoundmygrandmothersgravenieir heads werebeubw.ndacmewereprayingwhileotherswere gently weeping. “Jesus wept” rerrlloedlllolflrrnyInert!knewwlryhehadwept.Hehadbeen betrayedtoo.lfetchedmy Mudmydreelpocketandleanedagainst atombstonetoquietmyracingmind. . Inndieddreaowdulmdeyparents andbrotherandsistersweretheclosesttothe Minuet-Muriel“ stoodnexttomy familyinthefront row. Together,thetwo r grouplfonnedl semi-circlearoundmy grandmother.'I‘hegroupsplacement reminded me d how my grandmherloved circles.Gnndmabelievedthatacir-cle wasasymbol of life andlove.Hadmyfamilyforgottenthatasmeyalltookmeirplacesaroundher grave?! wonderediflwastheonlypersonvihonoticedthatthecircledied with one who had held ittogedIer.Behindd1em.my cousins andotherfriendsand family bunched together like cattleinunimnginaryoorral. Everyone wore black orgray thecolors of the dead.Iwore a yellow dress trimmed with daisies. My dress contrasted sharply with the blackness of the mandthecrisp whiteness of the snow. It was my protest of this day. Before leaving home. my motherseyes toldmethat she did not approve of my dress, but all she said was that I might get cold. I flagrantly asked her if she had forgotten that my grandmother loved My words weredaggersaimedatmy mothersheart,and hertearsdarkly satisfied thepainwithinme. [finished my cigaretteandburieditinthesnow with my foot, inorder to beoccupied asthemournerssaid their lasttearfulgood-byes and crowded into their cars. My mother lentmy brotherandsistersaheadwith my father and walked over to whereIwas standing. Sheeteppedclosetohold me.butlmoved away.lknew if she touchedmethatlwould buntwith sonowandshame. My mothershead hung lowasshe turned and walked slowly towardsthecar,butl wasn'treadytolet go ortoleave.lhad to say goodbye. My feet dis- lppeued underneaththesnowaslstumbled towards the open grave. White roses and daisies topped my grandmothers coffin. A few mourners had tossed red roeesatopthewhite bouquets.Thesplash of redmadeit seemas though the white flowers were bleeding. Other floral arrangements had been brought from the church and were placed haphunrdly aroundthemarble tombstone that now claimedthenames of both my .Ikneeled downandpluckeda handful of daisies from the arrangement clos- esttomeJcouldn'tdecide if I ahouldkeepthem with me or leave them with her.I decidedtoleavememwith her. and,oneby one.Itossed them into the frozen grave. My modrawasstill waitingforme. watchingmefromadistance.lknew it was time to join the omen. [crouchedclosetomy grandmothersgravemarkerand whispered thatlwould not for- yetherJtraeedhernameetchedinthe smooth stonelexpected the marble tobecold undermy fingers. but the stone was warm from the sun.I raised my face towards the sun andshut my eyes.Awarm breeze blew myhair around my face andlopened my eyes. The sky was clear blue. The clouds were translucent wisps of cotton moving slowly with the wind.Abirdsangasit sailed across theseaofblue.andcametorestinanearby tree. Bdrindmy grandmodxersresting place wasasmall lake. The water was still and clear. reflectingmebrillianceof the sky.Aslstoodtoleave. two deer caught my attention.Cau— timely. they benttodrinkfromdielake.Aslow smile spread across my face as I watched theplirddnkfirstoneandthantheothenl realizedthatthissummerdayinDecember aummedupmygnndmodierslifeina way that words could never capture in its entirety. Ateubrokethroughmy angerJndcausedadamtobustinmychest. Sorrow and love pmneddownmyfaee aslsofilythankedGodforallowingmethis goodbye. Speeialtimeswith mygrandmotherflashedthrough my mind. Herredcheckered pants walkingslowlybesideme.matchingmysmallchildlike steps. Laughingasl struggled, and failedtokeqimyioeaeumeonefrommelting.Au-ipto grandmasalwaysmeantawalk hunlocalioecreampariorfiheneverseolded mewhenrnydirtyhandswouldnnnmage Wherbetoomdnwenmdcloaet. searchingforclothesthatwould transform me imaprimeuorahride. Jewelrywuslmustshedtellrneasshedrapedcoloredbeads loudmyneckand slippedlargebaublesonto my fingers.'Completing my games of Melted liftmeontoberlapandshcdtellmehowbeautifulllooked.ldjinglethe drumdhuMandflnwwldshowmediatmechamssymbolizedeach oneof hqmcialpmddiildeanastheteddyheaLOuchurchSundays. shedfillherpockets mpuxfimmdinandwouklpretendnottonotice whenmytinyhandsemergedfullof m.Shewathemoetwonderfulwomanthat lhadknown—mysummerdayinDecem- bu: Wheyeamherhealthsloudydeteriuatedjhesufieredsnoke afterstroke. unmmmyn'ngmetefisideofhabody. Despiteherphysicalhard- Ihipt.hafiitn¢vufailedlnAugustofl992.she wasdiagnosedwithcancer.ltspread doctorgaveherafewweekstolive.Hetoldusthat knelt!th bodywasn'tstrongenoughforthefightbuthndmachoseto 'udago WJheaewaegmdingueamimtsandmygrandma worth! Beuidysdflmmehdaampedmadnneforhomsfihewassickforhoms sunny.Grandma W“Amzing(‘laee"beforeeverytrwnent.8hetoldme nursesthatitcalmedher kagtookhermindfnrawayfiomher nervousness'lhehymnspreadthrough- mygnndmaasaspecial ladyArayofsunlight inlhecaneerwing. Againstalloddanndmabrigilenedthewingforfivemomhswithhersongs andsto- riesofherlife.Evenmally.thedaycamewbmdaeinsmaneecompany laiddowntheirlaw. Tbeyumldnolongerpaythhmpiulbills.0uroptions werelimitedzahospieecareeen- unramrrfinghouliuuinuefineddun botILShewantedtodieathomewithher fn‘lyJ'hem-angeumweremde. Myfurilyknoctedouawnllinhbetkoomeomeeouldbedoeawher Iovedmes. Mambdnhqhm-diedaw mineftxpm‘tatim mmkwoddaflflemuhngmofGr-an aflerthemslnurseoded Eve‘s-[lyJF'sdnoltohekniemdmy MEverydayshewwldtellmeto gobddfishmyMQI ooddflmetlflhwasgoingtobefinebutl winners of the John Engman Prize Gabe”: “Summer Breeze” page 9 was selfish— I needed to be with her. I needed to tell her that she was the only reason that I had survived my colored childhood. She was the stability in my life. and I still needed her. I sat beside her bed for hours and carefully held her hand. She was in such pain. yet she never complained. She d look over at me and smile. She told me stories about my grandfather, stories about how much he had loved me. and how much she had loved him. She told me that the only regret of her life was that she would never meet my bus- band or my children. She knew that they would be as wonderful as l. and reassured me that she would love them from above. She remained the sunshine of my life. even as her light began to grow dim. It was not long after we brought her home that she stopped talking as much and started sleeping more and more. Her weight dropped fast as she became skin and bone underneath the bed sheets. Her back became riddled with bed sores and the morphine doses increased in frequency and amount. Breathing became a chore. but it wasn‘ t her ' time she d say. She had things to tell us and people to love. Once. in the middle of the night, Grandma awoke and smiled over at me. She whispered that she needed some string. I brought it to her and she asked me to tie it to her wedding band. The ring had never left her finger. I tied one end of the string to the tarnished band and the other end of the string around her tiny wrist. She fell back asleep. but not until she knew the ring was securely in place. It was one of the many defining moments of my grandmother s life. Her lips became dry, and we d brush ice cubes across them to keep them from look» ing like the dry. cracked dessert floor. Her white hair was now knotted and matted to her forehead. It had once been soft and fluffy like the tufts of white that children blow from the dandelions that grow in the summer sun. Her hazel eyes opened only occasionally now. but their sparkle never dimmed. I have my grandmother 5 eyes, but mine are miss- ing her sparkle. Although my grandmother was dying. her eyes were filled with more love and life than my tired. clouded eyes. I d lay my head on the bed next to my grand- mother s face. and she d try to speak. but words were difficult for her now. I d tell her that I knew what she was trying to say. and she d lightly brush my hair from my eyes. Her touch was a summer breeze, soft and warm. Early on December fourth, my grandma awoke from days of sleep. Her family was asleep around her curled up on couches. chairs. and in balls of blankets on the floor. My sister. Kim. was asleep in a chair next to Grandma 5 bed. Grandma began hum- ming. and the family stirred to soft sounds of “Amazing Grace“. Grandma tried to speak. Kim leaned down next to her mouth. Grandma wondered if it was after the first of December. It was the fourth Kim told her. She smiled at the family and told us that it was time to go. He was calling she said. Like a scene from a movie. she closed her tired eyes and our summer ended soft. like a lamb. I joined my waiting family at the car. My mother opened the heavy door and I climbed inside. Snow began to softly fall once again. I leaned my head on my mother s shoulder, and began to weep. My mother cried as she kissed my head and began to lightly brush my hair from my eyes. Her touch was soft and warm. She had my grand— mother s hands. Snow had been softly falling as my family climbed the steps to the church. The air was crisp. and the wind was cold. The sky was gray and the dense clouds hid the sun. Entering the church, I thought it seemed an appropriate day for a funeral— wet. dark. and cold. As our car turned from the graveyard, I pictured the inside of the church. and l remembered the stained-glass window at the back of the little church. During the end of the ceremony, the sun emerged >from the clouds and lit the vibrant colors of the win- dow. Jesus glowed and beckoned from the window. The inscription on the window read: “He who knocks. shall enter the kingdom of Heaven." The Heavens glowed brightly the day my grandmother knocked on the door. “One Final Visit”cont. from Page 8 ing but pure rage on his face. The eleven—year knot grew in my stomach and I felt sick with the realization that I was never going to get what I came for. I quickly changed the subject. “You know what. I don't want to know. It’s not important." We watched other families saying tearful good-byes. Women kissed their husbands passionately and children clutched their fathers, knowing that they‘d have to wait a week or longer before laying eyes on them again. “Well. our visit is almost over." my dad commented. "I know." “Will you come see me again?" He asked. looking straight ahead, his hands clasped tightly together in his lap. “I‘ll I lied. “Keegan come here and say good-bye to your grandpa." “Come here.” was Keegan's cue to race away from me. He ran all around the center row of tables and back down the other side before I could catch him. He ran all the way to my father and grabbed him around the leg. “Bye. bye. bye, gramba" he giggled. My father, surprised, looked down at my son grinning up at him through a mouthful of drool, his sharp deep brown eyes staring directly into my father‘s face. My father patted his curly head cautiously and stammered, “b-bye." The PA system came on to announce that visiting hours were officially over. The last image of my father is one of him being led back through the security door. his hands clasped in front of him. his shoulders stiff. He never turned back to get one last look of us. I never went back to visit him. There was no point. l had dreams of writing to him, of telling him how my mother's death afiected me. how it still affects me. When I grad- uated from college. I wanted my mother there. She never went to college so i knew she would be proud. sol wanted a proud parent picture. one of her standing next to me in my graduation cap and gown. When I got married. we put her picwre in the front row where she should have been. Knowing that my father made the conscious decision to end her life. will forever make her absence at any special event in my life all the more glaring and all the more difficult to accept. Andlwillnevergraspfully whyhedidit. lcanonly guess. Thedivorceofa Catholic marriage? The property settlement? His reputation? None of it makes sense. notvmenlknowhowshelovedhim. Wasitallamisunderstanding'! Didhenotknow mwmmmiz Show less
December 10, 1999 é’éFeatures page 12 Augsburg alum succeedingxin the NBA Devean George sees playing time for the Lakers Anne Osberg Staff Writer At this time last year life was a lot different for Augsburg alum Devean George. The start of December, 1998, brought increased wonies about the end of... Show moreDecember 10, 1999 é’éFeatures page 12 Augsburg alum succeedingxin the NBA Devean George sees playing time for the Lakers Anne Osberg Staff Writer At this time last year life was a lot different for Augsburg alum Devean George. The start of December, 1998, brought increased wonies about the end of the semester, including homework, studying. finals, and of course the beginning of the l998-l999 Augsburg basketball season. The beginning of December for 1999 brought worries of a different kind. Being a rookie for the Los Angeles Lakers has brought its own worries as George has to learn the difficult triangle offense that Laker coach Phil Jackson has implemented and make the adjustment from being the golto-player in college. to the rookie struggling for minutes in the NBA. “I‘m one of those old-school guys that say rookies have to sit on the bench and learn,“ Jackson said in an interview with the LA. Times, “especially when they’re coming into the NBA and playing on a team that’s as good as this one is." George is averaging 9.4 minutes per game with the Lakers but is expected to split minutes with Rick Fox due to the injury to third guard Brian Shaw. According to an LA Times article. “the Lakers’ Brian Shaw could not practice Sunday (November 28) because of a sore ankle. which may force the acceleration of rookie Devean George‘s transition from a wing position to a sig- nificant backup role at guard." The Holidazzle parade While attending and playing basketball here at Augsburg, Devean George rewrote the record books. He became the third men's basketball player to shatter the 2,000-point career scoring mark and the second Auggie to accumulate at least 800 career rebounds. George finished his career with 2,258 career points and 868 career rebounds, both second in school history. He fell only 13 points short of the school’s scoring record, held by head coach Brian Ammann. George finished his career with a 23.5 points- per—game average, the best in school history, and with a 9.0 rebounds-per-game average. ‘ Augsburg's record in games which George played was 71— 25. He scored 20 or more points in 63 out of 96 games. He set both the MIAC and Augsburg single-game record with a 52—point performance in the Auggies 105-97 over- time victory at Carleton on January 16, 1999. George was named MIAC most valuable player in both 1997-98 and 1998-99. He made his NBA debut on November 2 against the Utah Jazz. Against the Portland Trailblazers on November 6, George scored 8 points and was 2-2 from the three point line. On December 5, George was placed on the injured reserve list because of a bruised right knee. George and the Lakers will be returning to the Twin Cities on Saturday, January 15, at 7:00 pm. as the Lakers take on the Timberwolves. ' Anne Osberg Staff Writer If you're looking for a good study break during finals week. orjust want to fill yourself with some holiday cheer. head on over to Downtown Min- neapolis and take in the Dayton's display and the Holidazzle parade. Dayton's is located at 700 Nicollet Mall where the Dayton‘s Auditorium Display is on the 8th floor and is featuring the “13 Days of Christmas." Each day is situated in a different country. from Russia to Switzerland to Egypt. If you don‘t want to deal with the long lines that usually accompany the display. take a glance at the windows surrounding Dayton‘s. They showcase the “12 Days" on posters in each window. Upon returning to the street level, grab a cup of hot cocoa to warm yourself up as you get ready to take in the Holidazzle parade. It's a wonderful parade of lights with local celebrities as the Grand Marshals. The Holidazzle parade will bring you back to your childhood as you witness children‘s stories come to life. The parade runs down the Nicollet Mall every evening at 6:30 pm. and lasts until 7:00. At the beginning of each parade. collections for nonperish— able food items are taken as well as cash buckets sponsored by American Express and Northwest Air- lines Food Drive. FYI: Make sure you bring a blanket, a warm hat and mittens because it does get chilly out there! The Dayton’s display will be up until December 31 and the Hollidazzle parade runs through December 23. To get downtown you can either drive and park in a lot, or for $1.00 hop on the #7 bus that will take you directly to the Nicollet Mall. Emma. HOW urn-n anneal-Mt Tong HERMES *1 SP3” m comm Photo of Devean courtesy of Augsburg Public Relations Augsburg alum Devean George “One Final VISIt” contfrom page 9 how much she loved him? In the last apartment we shared, mom used to talk to me about him. and weep because they couldn’t live together. She perpetually sang melancholy love songs. She real- ized how emotionally abusive he was to her and she couldn’t live with the thought of him turning that abuse towards me. Maybe he never understood this and his crime was a crime of passion - but then he would have had to feel something. So I wanted to know, did he love her? Did he ever love her? What really trig- gered his decision? I wanted him to tell me everything - openly and honestly. And I wanted him to know what he took from me. He took not just my mother, but both my parents - he orphaned me. No further communication between the two of us ever mate- rialized. That day was our first and last prison visit. He died a year later during open—heart surgery in the Nebraska State Penitentiary hospital. Show less
‘f December 10, 1909 31E: S SOUND As WE’RE CONCERNED u.“ “Weird Dana" Determan Rock. Star - Weird Al Yankovic - Running With Scissors Rating: This is the best damn CD I’ve ever heard!!! 'By now, we’ve all gone through our Weird Al phase. For some, it was in junior high when we died laughing at... Show more‘f December 10, 1909 31E: S SOUND As WE’RE CONCERNED u.“ “Weird Dana" Determan Rock. Star - Weird Al Yankovic - Running With Scissors Rating: This is the best damn CD I’ve ever heard!!! 'By now, we’ve all gone through our Weird Al phase. For some, it was in junior high when we died laughing at his masterful parody, “Eat It," of the Michael Jackson tough—guy tune. For others. it might have been fun to play “ Fat," yet another Michael Jackson parody, on the stereo at parties. And we all laughed at ourselves in our flannel shirts, stocking caps, and Doc Martens. through Al’s Nirvana parody. " Smells Like Nirvana,“ i Chris Winger .Tree Reporter ,7 That’s great —— it starts with an earthquake, birdsand snakes, an aeroplane and Lenny Bruce is not afraid. Very powerful words. As we all know, the end is going to come. It won’t be on January 1, 2000, like the hoo-ha‘s say, but probably some time in 2001. The book of Revelations states that there will be a “beast” that will come and people will wor— ship the beast, which will be the Antichrist, before the actual com- ing of Christ (it’s all pretty stan- dard really). With cloning now possible with something as sim- ple as a small blood sample, and with blood stains found on the shroud of Turin, it is possible for some rogue to clone the man, JESUS! Naturally, since it would be Jesus, he would be worshiped by millions, and since he would be the “evil” Christ, they would all die, and he would bring fiery death to us all, and possibly Syphilis too Let’s forget about the cloning and take a look at who we’ve got on Faces Grunt .lortlahl Gate Antichis the planet now. Bill Gates comes to mind. Mlliam Henry Gates IH, when converted to ASCH code (American Standard Code for Information Interchange) and then added together, equals 666, which is the number of the beast. Wouldn’t it be a surprise if Bill Gates was the Antichrist? After- all, it was already foretold in the Bible that someone powerful would rise up and lead the world to destruction, and Bill Gates def- initely has that kind of power in his hands. More than 80% of the world’s computers run on Windows and DOS. If all his products have some kind of small program embedded in them (like the east— ereggs, hidden programs in soft- ware that MS is known for already), that can give him con— trol, setting off nuclear arsenals and creating havoc in security systems and financial systems all over the world. And all this can be done from his headquarters by using the Internet. It will be along, slow death, but I feel fine. But for the legions of devoted., sometimes even obsessed, Weird Al fans, his music is not regarded as just a clever comedic twist on popular music, but a focal point of spiritual enlightenment and eternal wisdom through heavenly sound. Mr. Yankovic’s power to deliver insightful social commentary through the lens of on all-encompassing sarcastic watchful eye, has secured his status in the immortal halls of musical genius. next to Mozart, Beethoven, and that wind—up monkey who obnoxiously bangs cymbals together when you pull his cord. I believe that Weird Al delivers the true words that would have been used in the songs he parodies. If only the original artists would have had even an ounce of the artistic vision he shows in his teachings! And with his newest release, “ Running With Scissors.” Weird Al has taken his ingenious satire to new heights. On this CD, the discerning Weird Al follower can easily see that his attempt to take his glorious sound in new direc- tions has been successfully achieved. One example of the uniqueness which raises this album above his ear— lier efforts is his first—ever attempt at an industrial tune. On the song "Germs," a parody of the song "ClOser." by Nine Inch Nails. Weird Al proves that he can take his art into experimental territory, and still make it a masterpiece. On the epic tale “The Saga Begins." Weird Al chronicles through song the humble beginnings of the holy trilogy we all know as Star Wars. _ Set to the tune of Don McLean‘s “American Pie.” we get a vivid account of the first of the many battles that would be fought between the Force and the Dark Side. When the uncertainty of the new Millennium strikes on New Year‘s Eve. I. as well as many other loyal “Yankovicians.” will feel the com- fort and reassurance of this immortal genius' teachings to lead us on into the future. In the words of the Great One himself, “There‘s travel in your future when your tongue freezes to the back of a speeding bus. so fill that void in your pathetic life by playing, Whack-A-Mole. 17 times a day." - “THEIRDAUYAN VIC \p . 'KQ\ ,‘t ‘9 : Composer stabs slf with baton Kathryn Koch Somebody important 7 W Sophomore Brendan Anderson, Augsburg‘s own composing great, suffered a near debilitating blow when he was impaled by his own baton. Students have noted that as Anderson was rehearsing his lat- est piece, “Anderson Overture," he stopped the band to work with What Would you __ r the percussion section. and that is where it all turned bloody. One percussionist stated that Anderson became furious with the percussionists because the cymbal crash was late. In his fury. Anderson began flailing his arms around wildly, and in the mad- ness, impaled his left hand with his baton. One percussionist had this to say: " I didn‘t know that it was so important for that crash to be on beat two. I guess that I will never miss it again." Anderson is listed in stable condi» tion and told The Apocalypse: “Tomorrow is another day. but its for today, my hand hurts." How- ever, Anders‘on‘s condition ulti- mately does not matter since the world will end in three weeks. “A nail clipper and some bandaids because walking around for all eternity with a hangnail and open wounds would suck!" Jack Handey Hot Oil Masseuse "My beef jerkey! Ohhh yeah! Snap into a Slim Jim!” —“Macho Man" Randy Savage Future Governor of Minnesota “Athlete‘s foot cream. You just don’t know what you might be walkin’ on down there!" -Ratt T. Sock Fortune Teller & Mary Kay Consultant “My raincoat. Youjust don‘t know when you‘re going to need protection." -Captain J. Pecker One of Santa‘s Little Elves “My Mojo." -Briana “Powers” Young 5th Year Freshman Show less
burg Aggie. Mutter 10. 1999 Au99 A ocal Volume 106 Issue 10 Says he “had good reading material” Pod-"aneureogy Acrowdgatheredoutside of Memorial Hallon'lhursday, as PM Bart Ernesto [ll emerged in fair lulth from the building's frontentrimce. Ernesto had been ntissingandpresumeddead since mid... Show moreburg Aggie. Mutter 10. 1999 Au99 A ocal Volume 106 Issue 10 Says he “had good reading material” Pod-"aneureogy Acrowdgatheredoutside of Memorial Hallon'lhursday, as PM Bart Ernesto [ll emerged in fair lulth from the building's frontentrimce. Ernesto had been ntissingandpresumeddead since mid-September. but was recently dimveredamidstreamsof papers on the desk ofDr. Joan Griffin. “We're all relieved that Francis BartErnestolIIissafeandsound. 'lhishasbeenatmtghthree . monthsforhim."eommenteda rescueworkeratthescene. Memorial 220. the scene of the student's recovery. has been the site of several other recent “finds.” Francis Bart Ernesto H1 is the last in a long list of rescues. including five well-wom copies of John Milton’s Paradise Lost. three sandwiches. fourteen papers from Augsburg alumni, and a family of immigrant gerbils that was apparently quite adept at con- structing makeshift paper huts in the debris. A spokesperson for the gerbils was not available for comment. “I was visiting loan to ask about one of the papers I had written for her class,” said Francis Bart Ernesto II], “when she received a phone call. She turned her back to answer. and that must have triggered an avalanche. l was SC ie student buried alive suddenly buried under books and papers. unable to move!" When asked why she didn‘t answer Francis Bart Ernesto III‘s muffled cries from under the mounds of paper. Joan mumbled something about a Rabbi and a robot. and questioned the reporter about his “ways to truth." “Can we be sure that this is really Francis Bart Ernesto Ill? Plato would say that he is just a shadow of the true Francis Bart Ernesto III," she contemplated. The Augsburg SADAMOA. or Students Against Disorganized And Messy Office Areas. is wag- ing a full—scale effort to unearth any further victims who have In this issue: Students attacked by ghost in Old Main. page ‘2 Auggie plots to begin new civilization. page ‘2 Frame to teach new lifetime sport. page 3 Augsburg prepares for the 2nd Coming. page 4 fallen prey to Griffin‘s paperwork collection “We consider it a drill of our Apocalypse Preparedness Plan." one worker stated. “When the world ends. we want people to know that NO amount of paper will hinder our efforts to C\ll’;lt‘l them from the rubble." Regarding Thursday‘s incident. Francis Bait Emesto lll wearin confided in the news media. “At least I had good reading mater- ial.“ Auggie students trapped in Mort elevators for three days malty a photo taken by Aaron Vogel P w.» Editor Several students strain to hear any indications The Writer Formerly Known as Co—Editor in Chief. - On Tuesday, December 7, two Augsburg students became trapped in the west elevator in Mortenson Tower as they walked back from Murphy's with an evening snack. The two students, identified as junior Roxy Knockers and sophomore Jimmy Dean. have been stranded in the elevator for three days now. as attempts by Build- ings and Grounds to free them have been unsuccessful. that the students trapped inside are still alive. Apparently. the elevator malfunctioned after Dean stumbled and spilled his Mur- phy’s mochachino onto the con- trol panel. causing a short—out in the elevator's electrical circuits. The malfunction caused a spark which fused the door shut. and faulty wiring by the original man— ufacturer has prevented workers from getting anywhere near the imprisoning cavity. Representatives from Res. Life have been calling the elevator manufacturer since the time of the event. but the manufacturer told Liz Carlson. "Screw you! We‘ll get there when we damn well feel like it!" Students have gathered outside of the elevator to support and encourage their fellow classmates as continuing attempts are made at their rescue. but it is feared that Dean may already be severer injured. On the second day ol the stu— dents' entrapment. a light erupted issue of the ECHO Ventura to be covered in every Due to high student and faculty criticism. Jesse News Briefs: The Nation, The World Frame declares Naked Thursdays President Frame announced on Monday that each week we are to pay tribute to all of the nudists between the two Mort victims when hunger began to set in. “Gimme that last Murphy's cheese stick. you son ofa bitch!" exclaimed Knockers. “If it weren't for your clumsy ass. we‘d never have gotten stuck in here in the first place!" “You damn heathen!" replied Dean. “You don‘t deserve to live. You busted iiiy Vespers party the other night. (live me that cheese stick back!" Several lotid thuds emanated from the elevator shaft. follode by a long silcncc. After llircc tcnsc minutes. Knockers was heard muttering repeatedly. “'l‘hc cliccsc see “Entrapment” p 2 four-year-old steals jet ski, runs amuck Allison Anderson Wanna Be Co-Editor in Chief A'lu In (‘itics lotii‘vycar-old stoic a cha ]ct ski on Wednesday right tiltt-i hc [Mll‘lltlpttlt‘d in .l \t-r} long giotrp imp .it his preschool in liagait llis tcachcis Llitllll Ihc tltlltl iiiust haw ggiiiicd cxtia cnci‘g) limit the alttit-iiiciitioncd nap L’pon waking up lioin lirs nap tlic lour—ycaraold L'\LL1IJCLi lllc plL‘V school by hiding in a iiiilk ciatc ()ncc outside the budding. be pro ceedcd to the nearest Chucky Cheese where he boarded the Sega jet ski. L'pon seeing the rogue child. the Chucky Cheese employees called the police. ()IIL' L‘Iillilttyt't sliilt‘tl. "\Vi‘ \\ t'it‘ all scaictl to tlL'Jill Wc \l‘ Ilt'\t'l sccii an [NHL illlllllillllt'tl t llliti bcloic and v. iii-.1 (lltlll I lxiiou. \\l|.tl to do llv tlltlll i cut ll :w-i il|\ li.iiitl ‘ l.iiii]>t'il' ()llt' Clllllltlfyiit tlltl ti|.lll.i;‘t Ill Lil i‘ tlic photograph lit-luv. .1’ mt dcntc, ()llU. lili' Itoln c .tiiixwl llic tour-yum old um titiit l I» llppl'c‘llclltlt'tl illit if llit,’ ll'l ‘ll ‘.‘..i . llI lact. a i-tttiioimi} '.llit"l L’.lll|i Minncapolis [Milt c tiiiit l/L‘li llll owner ol ('liutly (‘lict-sc loi bothering tliciii. saying "lmrno you. Ml'. ('liccsc‘ Wc havc liclll'i things to do with our tiiiic. 'l lic world's about to end ” Ventura will now be covered in every issue of the ECHO. Because the ECHO caught so much flack for covering Ventura on a few occasions. the ECHO will now designate an entire page to the Govemor out of mere spite. Students and faculty will now have the opportunity to stay updated on all of Ven- tura's brilliant career moves and witty comments. and have one consistent reason for criticizing the ECHO. Sports dome razed for parking lot In an attempt to accommodate the large number of Augsburg students who have cars on campus. the College will be tearing down the sports dome next week and clearing the space to make a parking lot. Augsburg feels that sports programs are an unim- portant part of campus life. so. like the tennis mints. the dome shall also become a storage spot for students‘ rust) cars. Future parking plans also include expansion into the rm arena and St Melb). across the nation who have suffered for freedom of expression by honoring “Naked Thursdays." Starting next Thursday. all students who enter campus buildings are to remove their clothes at the doors and remain naked until they exit the build» ings. Frame declared in his announcement. "To hell with clothes! The world's going to end soon anyway. Why not be naked when it happens?" ECHO editors go on rampage On the morning of Sunday. December 5. the Co- Editors in Chief of the ECHO went on a shooting spree in Murphy Park. Waldon was heard exclaim— ing. “If I have to fix one more damn fragmented sentence. I‘m going to kill somebody?" Before Huls took her aim at an unsuspecting freshman staff writer. she screamed. "l'll show )ou a comma splice?" as she raised her semi-automatic into his face and opened fire. Police arrested the two assailants: therefore. there will be a bnef laps in ECHO publications as the} an alt sentencing A police photograph of the Twm Cities tow-year—old who stole a Sega let ski, taken jUSl moments before the toddler was hog tied and escorted frOm Chucky Cheese by several armed officers Show less
or .018 .102 .v PM“) .93. 1W33Q . December 10, 1999 Features page2 Student barricades self in hole Grant Jordahl Just another face in the crowd While walking to one of my classes this week. I came across what appeared to be an Augsburg student digging a large hole which was surrounded by vast... Show moreor .018 .102 .v PM“) .93. 1W33Q . December 10, 1999 Features page2 Student barricades self in hole Grant Jordahl Just another face in the crowd While walking to one of my classes this week. I came across what appeared to be an Augsburg student digging a large hole which was surrounded by vast quantities of supplies. consisting of food. water, and clothing. I decided to be late for my class and figure out what the hell was going on. I walked up closer to the “hole” and tried to make contact with the individual by saying “Hello.” The only response given back was “No time for talk; digging!" I sat by the hole for at least 20 minutes (I really didn‘t want to go to class) until finally he was done and climbed up out of it. We then talked for about I0 minutes thinksthatheAmericagovun- wildmantowardI-94. rnentisbehindthewboleYZK Ilearnedasurprisinganmntin scam Hebelievesthathey thatshorttimeabwttheguy.or inventedtheYZKbugasputof aslrefertohim.“Crasz2K anallimewithaforeignpower Auggie." He wouldn’t givehis thathewwldnrxdisclose. On name tomebecause.ashepmit. theeveonZlLthisfueign “I don‘t trust people with blond power will descend upon the « hair. UnitedStatesandtakeoutentire cities. Thetaskwillbeeay He gavenoname.butldidleam because ofthefxtthatnocities that he is a sophomore here at will have electricity. Augsburg. though this is against his wishes. After his freshman Be advised that this student is year, he had planned to take his looking for others to join his new tuition money and buy a large civilization. which he calls "The plot of land in Montana. \Vrth his New Civilization under Augsburg land he planned to get away from College" (catchy title. eh?). He people and civilization because. wants a male and female from as he put it, “It will be the end of each major offered so that he can days." create a perfect society. He already has people from the Eng- I inquired further and found out lish Department and all of the that he doesn‘t think that God or Satan will take over but instead Sciences that are ofiered. before he went off running like a Old Main haunted Jesse Woodroffe Spiritualist “I‘ve always told people that ghosts are not harmful and should not be feared. I had never come across a case of a spirit or ghost actually causing physical harm to a living person.“ said Dr. Phillip Kaczmark of the Ghost Research Society. "but this incident proves otherwise." On Wednesday. November 24. four students were subjected to what has been described as “a vicious paranormal assault." on the second floor of Augs- brrrg College's most historic building. Old Main. "It scared the hell out of me.“ one of the students was quoted as saying to authorities after the incident. According to the police report. the students were in the second floor lounge of Old Main following their class Wednesday night. which lasted until 9:00 pm. “There was nothing unusual about that night. We had no clue." At 9:15 pm. the students were reportedly accosted by what they described as "some kind of dark figure that looked like a person. but it had no face. It was wearing a cowled robe. you know. like a monk. and had e\ il red eyes." According to the students. the being entered the room through a wall. stepping through it like it was an open door “We were just sitting there talking. and. then. we were like ‘what the hell is that‘.‘"' Apparently startled by the stu- dent‘s exclamation. the spirit lifted the student from his chair and threw him against the wall. It then tumed to the others. but didn't move. M'BI'QECHORWSS’ thstolCarotynem.ngsmdem-m mwmmmmm metalsotouth‘n “Then something else really strange happened. Books and papers began flying around the room. I got hit over the head by one and everything went black after that." The other students. “torn between fear and wanting to help our friend.“ cooperated to carry out the wounded student and fled the building under a hail of debris. Augsburg security was notified at 9:45 pm. and immediately dispatched two officers to investigate the report. “When we got to the scene," said one of the officers. “it was devastation. The entire second floor was a shambles. Papers were everywhere. tables and chairs were upturned, and one of the doors had been torn from its hinges. At first. I just thought the students had gotten spooked by vandals or something." The ofiicers soon found that there was something more than a vandal at work. “We heard footsteps going down the stairs towards the basement. Since we had locked up the building, we figured that this was probably the vandal trying to escape. But when we went downstairs. all we saw was one person standing in the center of the gallery room.“ What happened next served to corroborate the reports of the students. “The thing turned around at us and. I think. stared. All I could see were its pierc— ing red eyes. We turned and ran right then. There was nothing we could do.” At 11:30 pm. security made a request for assistance from the Minneapolis Police Department. The police notified the Ghost Research Society. a government- sponsored paranomial research group. "We were concerned about the attack. but with the information that we had received. it didn‘t seem like something for us to handle.“ said the officer in charge of the investigation. “The GRS had handled dozens of cases of this nature for us in the past." On Thursday. November 25. two investigators from the GRS arrived at Augsburg and. according to Augsburg Security. "demanded that they be taken to the and then have the building sealed." The investigators unloaded “a truckload of technical- Iooking equipment." and brought it into Old Main. "Then they covered all the windows. I don‘t know what the hell they were doing in there. but they did- n‘t seem to want anyone to see." At 4:“) that after- noon.aftersevenhoursofsilencetotheoutside.tln GRS investigators exited the building carrying their equipmemandleft. leavingonlyanor‘derthaLm building MEX be crammed before 611) every day. Nopeopleaetobeallowedimideafterthattime. Effem'ie immdiately. until further notice.” MewrjecauseOldMainisutilindforfimy lab.'Augsbugarhiistrxionhsopcdbiscad sutionasecnrityolficerontkseeodfloudud MinSnIhllsaellgednrqxn-ynml occurencesinOldMfibaymdAngs- ‘ y‘v E I 4,” 1...» Entrapment cont. from page I .‘- a. J.“ a stick is mine! Alas. I shall live off of the fat of Murphy's for yet another day... AttemptsweremadebysecurityandRes.Lifetospeakwiththestu- dents.butDeanhasnrxbeenheardfrornsincethecheesestickincidem. and Knockers refuses to answer any questions regarding Dean‘s state of health. Secrn’ityofl'icerSeottheranemptedtodispersedieconcemedcrmvd brntheapatheticsnnlentscominuedwgawkandnmlldxmtheeleva— tors. InfrustraionBakerbrandishedhisknightstickmdmackedthe cmdslnrnnngyanlm—tief" Thumbdispersedbefore mysnidenswereinjtnedbutfiakerreceivedaseverewoundonhis leftbigtoewhichmaynowneedtobemzed WeknowdnKnockmisstiflafiveindieelevaorJulzrmenalcon— citienseernswbeberioraingmidly. CounselorsfmrntheCeIer rammhvemmmmmmbuh odyrespomehabemegomfieinhere! fireworldisgoingto endhdleeweekgadl-on'tevengettoriehsrylelfieeveryole else ijmgoinglofarkouinastfly.yulouonelevaordn bm’smfiehkm Wbyer‘h'tllnveived'n Ikka . WI?" "My—0| Show less
O arc: - . December 3rd 1999 & page 6 Homosexual and Christian Gay couple shares their faith with the Augsburg community Jason Wegner and Laura Waldon Editors On November 19. Augsburg Campus Ministry and BAGLS (Bisexual and Gay/Lesbian Services) wel- comed Jeff Sartin and Mark Sedio to campus to... Show moreO arc: - . December 3rd 1999 & page 6 Homosexual and Christian Gay couple shares their faith with the Augsburg community Jason Wegner and Laura Waldon Editors On November 19. Augsburg Campus Ministry and BAGLS (Bisexual and Gay/Lesbian Services) wel- comed Jeff Sartin and Mark Sedio to campus to discuss how one can be both homo- sexual and Christian. Sartin. a pastor in the United Church of Christ, is an openly gay man who has followed his call to ordained ministry. A gradu- ate of Luther Seminary, Sartin was unable to follow his call in the Evangeli— cal Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) due to a policy that prohibits single, non—celibate individuals from practicing ministry. Namely. this policy is strongly enforced among people who are gay, but is largely ignored for heterosexual pastors. As a result. homosexuals (who are legally unable to marry) are, unfortunately, prohibited from preaching in the ELCA. “I really feel that God called me to ordained min- istry, and [the United Church of Christ] is the way that he worked it out," said Sartin to the students who gathered to hear him in the chapel. “The ELCA would just remove you completely if they found out you were gay," stated Sartin. Realizing that he could not stay “in the closet” and practice ministry. Sartin searched for an alternative. “I thought that if God called me to ordained min- istry, He‘d work a miracle in me and make me straight." said Sartin. The miracle that Sartin was looking for did not hap- pen, but what did happen was that one day during chapel, he went to a phone book to look up the United Church of Christ. When he talked to them and told them of his desire to preach and yet to be out of the closet at the same time, they were wel- coming and inviting. They assured him that they not only ordained open homosexuals, but that they would also support him in his ministry. The other speaker, Mard Sedio, is a graduate from Augsburg and is Sartin’s life partner. Sedio also attended Luther Seminary and became a church musician. He now is an organist at a Lutheran Laura Walden/ECHO Pastor Jeff Sartin and Mark Sedio address a group of Augsburg students, fac- ulty, and staff regarding homosexuality and Christianity. see “ELCA” page 8 Parking problems Augsburg students cause incon- venience for handicapped residents Allison Heimkes Staff Writer Do you have a car on campus? If you have a street permit. it is not always easy to find a spot on campus streets. Another option for parking is across the freeway. ‘ A lot of Augsburg students choose to park on 9th street, near the footbridge ramps. However, many people may not know that the building next to the Cities 94 apartments is for people with physical disabilities. Most of these people have social workers or nurses who come to help them. Right outside their building buses also pick up these peo— ple, most of whom are in wheelchairs. A resident in that building called Augsburg to inform us that our students are parking in front of the building and it makes it hard for buses to pull up to the curb to pick up people in wheelchairs. The caller also said that social workers and nurses have even parked on Augsburg‘s campus, because they could not find a spot along the road in front of the building. The road is a public street, so cars with city permits are allowed to park on that street. The problem is that the building has a parking lot that holds only about five cars. There is no visitor parking, - and busses cannot maneuver through the parking lot. The street is very convenient because of its location near the foot— bridge. However, if you routinely park on 9th street, you may want to keep in mind the people who live in the buildings nearby. Raves invade Phillips neighborhood Robbin M. Shores Contribiutor A counter-culture movement has been leaking through the cracks of the city——through the vibes of techno music and all-night parties. Hundreds of young people found their way to a rave [again] last Saturday at the comer of 24th Street and 5th Avenue. Raves, where teens dance to DJ mixes at undisclosed locations. are gaining popularity due to the World Wide Web and even some local hangouts. Layers of secrecy surrounding this underground scene are uncovered as the neighborhood digs for answers. Jacob's Ladder. the most recent rave, had all the elements that are common to the scene. Anyone who finds a flyer-— via World Wide Web or at Electric Fetus record store--and calls the promoter--Allied Substructure or Urban Guerilla-- can listen to the machine that reveals where to buy the $10 tickets: at Cynestasia. 203 Elroy Street (Pillsbury and Lake Street). The location is revealed on the night of the rave, and directions or a map are available at Café Fusion (Bloomington and Lake Street). This medium-sized ware- house party was limited to the first 500 people who bought tickets. and there were only a few left at 12 noon Saturday. Near the rave. the streets were lined with parked cars and people getting dropped off. An empty warehouse (same place as the Zodiak rave on September 25th) supplied the right setup for teenagers to party ‘til the break of dawn. Bouncers asked. “Got a ticket?" and opened the door to flyers for upcoming raves. The atmosphere--loud techno music. a thick fog obscuring the room. glowing lights, and psychedelic videos--provided the background vibe for the carloads of ecstatic adolescent ravers. The large hall was packed with groups of friends sitting and talking. In between the aisles. people——many with backpacks--navigated through the crowd. It's cold outside, but girls in tank tops were dancing and sweating inside. Everywhere you looked. colorful beads and glow—sticks brightened up the fog. and happy people were socializing like kids in a candy store. Down the stairs, guided by a strobe light. ravers danced to DJ Tyler Science and other house mixes. Techno beat con- stantly pounding from the large sound system. drummed up a form of hand movement dance styles. Dungeon-like rooms were netted off for both the DJ and the guy selling bottled water. Groups of people were packed in every cor- ner, talking and hanging out amidst the spider webs and dirt. Climbing blindly up the uneven stairs, a guy behind me shouted, “Who wants acid?" Conversations often revolved around the ‘messed up condition' they were in. Many guys wore painter's masks, and according to a friend, “They breathe in a fix that gets you higher when you‘re on ecstasy." At times, the aroma of marijuana lingered in the air. There was talk about puke (said to be a rarity) in the hallway that leads to the already plugged bathroom. Among the crowd, people (wearing candy necklaces) handed out candy. Some people had pacifiers and stuffed animals. which resembled slumber party items. Hugs were common. and a few couples were making out on the floor. A friendly female advised, “Wear a sports bra. because it‘s so hot you’ll need to take your shirt off.” According to the sign on the door, “If you leave — you can‘t come back!" Photo courtesy Robbin Shores A Minneapolis warehouse that has housed many raves. A large network of people find the raves, but police and parents always seem to be one step behind. “The secrecy is what makes them so cool. It’s like the thrill of getting caught,“ said one raver. Officer John Pielow of Minneapo~ lis‘ 3rd Precinct commented. “Raves are not illegal, unless the building is not zoned correctly." Police are not responding to any raves. Parents are concerned about their children’s safety. and wonder what goes on at raves. “I've heard that ecstasy (MDMA) and acid are sold like candy," says a Phillips mother whose 17-year—old son came home from a rave last month with dilated eyes. “My son‘s attitude has com- pletely changed—-for the worse.” A Seward family had a hard time finding their 16-year-old son. who had purchased tickets for a rave. The father was directed to the maps at Café Fusion, at 1526 E. Lake Street. He said, “They wouldn’t tell me where the rave was! What right do they have holding that information from parents? There’s something ethically wrong here-— our children are being swept up into a secret society.” Experiencing one rave may not be representative of the whole rave scene. The web site www.ravedata.com men- tions. “It’s a positive vibe — a celebration of life and liberty. Most ravers use psychedelics or stimulants to keep them up. MDMA (ecstasy) is a favorite. because it brings a spir- itual element to the mix." Rick M. of Portland, Oregon. writes. “Raves are a spawning ground for inspiring today‘s youth towards building a new awareness that promotes inner peace. open-mindedness and free expression. It is a bonding ritual that promotes peace with all. love with one another, and unity for all humankind." I interviewed a former Minneapolis raver who had this to say: “The drugs combined with the music gave me a trippy mindset. Watch what you drink-—you never get what you order. My friend loved taking ecstasy and she’d constantly take her clothes off--it's an aphrodisiac. Watch out for the designer drugs--dealers are sometimes pushing bad LSD. Stay close to your friends; in the warehouse district, there were all these storage rooms and girls were getting gangbanged. I used to carry a switchblade in my sock.” There are many opinions expressed about raves. as my research has revealed. Without attending a rave, a person may not fully understand. There is danger in almost any activity that people do. There are things that are worse and things that are better. Where’s the next rave? This question is frequently asked among adolescents. parents, and law enforcers. It appears to be a topic of great concern. As long as the organizers keep planning events, and DJs are playing music, the peo- ple will come. *Reprinted with permission from Phillips Alley. Show less
December 3rd 1999 :éEFeatures \"‘~ ~ Twit . {and TEA Dana DetermaanCHO Staff writer Dana Determan poses outside of one of his favorite home town hangouts in Mankato, MN. Dana Determan Staff writer 7 I walk out of Ernie November Records. which resides on my old stomping grounds of South Front... Show moreDecember 3rd 1999 :éEFeatures \"‘~ ~ Twit . {and TEA Dana DetermaanCHO Staff writer Dana Determan poses outside of one of his favorite home town hangouts in Mankato, MN. Dana Determan Staff writer 7 I walk out of Ernie November Records. which resides on my old stomping grounds of South Front Street in my hometown of Mankato. The memories of loitering up and down this block with friends years ago come rushing back to me. I take a look around and feel like a stranger as the old familiar street looks back at me with a new face. It is a face I love. and one which I know my friends and I helped to create. I carry badly wanted CD‘s in my hand. CD‘s which I had just purchased at the best little music shop in the whole wide world: Ernie November Records. It has stood there. under its black- and gray-striped awning. as a faithful land— mark of the music scene and culture that has existed in my town for years now. I can still remember plunking down a few mere dollars with my little junior high hands to pick up a new metal or punk CD And I continue to do so today. To the left of Emies. I am greeted by a small store front whose windows are covered in black shades with a small skull and crossbones on the door above the sign “Slackers Pinball. Pool. and Video Games." As I proceed inside. I find a few old friends playing pool. and a couple of new punks I’ve never seen before playing the lonely pinball machine. This is the only place I know that holds a hand- ful of Video games. a couple pinball machines. a few pool Faces Grant Jordahl tables. and a non-alcoholic bar all set to loud music, and is pretty much an excuse to legally loiter and hang—out down- town. - I relish in the fact that just a few years ago my friends and I would have been constantly harassed by strolling squad cars coming from the cop shop across the next block. I smile at what a safe haven Slacker's is for kids who can be as much of an eyesore as they want to be. to those eyes that would rather see them out of sight and out of mind. As I continue my journey up South Front Street I stop in front of the now Vietnamese restaurant which had once upon a time given birth to my musical and spiritual epiphany: Punk Rock. I can almost see the dozens of punks loitering the sidewalk in front of Marti’s Pizza. Longing for a time long since gone wells up inside me, but then I look across the street at the fairly new coffee shop, The Fillin' Station, which is a great place to hang out as well as a house to punk and other hardcore shows, and I feel better. While I know the venues may have changed, the musical spirit still lives on in this town, as many of the old familiar faces have been replaced by new, younger ones. At the end of the block I smile as I see In The Works, a skate and snowboard shop. which, ironically. sits at the same intersection where my friend. Adam. was once arrested and spent a night in jail for skateboarding. In the shop‘s window a proudly displayed banner declaring that “Skateboarding Is Not A Crime" is posted as testament. In a way. this tells me that the punks have finally taken over the block from a city that has been most unkind to us as long as I have been a part of the Mankato scene. Up the street. the Harley motorcycle engines still roar. and the biker bar still serves its leather-clad clientele. Across the street. Paglili‘s Pizza looks as busy as it ever was. serv- ing its unbelievably scrumptious thickly layered cheese bread which my friends and I used to devour after a Marti‘s Show. Next door. some frat boys walk out of T]. Finnegan‘s Pub. sporting crew cuts so short and perfectly flat you could skip a nickel across all of their heads. And maybe for pure nostalgia‘s sake I suddenly miss the hostile words and superlatives that were cross-fired between the frats and my multi-colored hair and body-pierced friends. I feel old now because I haven’t sat on the street comer and had some muscle-bound guy toting a blond. big- haired bar chick on his arm tell me to. “Get ajob you f-ing freak” for years now. Nevertheless, I’m sure somewhere in this town some young punk still hears phrases like that. I could go on to tell you about the new civic center that was built in Mankato a few years ago and has hosted such acts as Kiss, Motley Crue, and Aerosmith. Or I could tell you about the River Hills Mall, the Wal—Man, Best Buy. or Target that went up so quickly it seemed you just needed to add water to an empty plot of land. But those are sights you see in every town, and it’s the small, unique buildings that I treasure most about my hometown of Mankato, Min- nesota. continued from page 3 campaign featuring correct information about student behavior in the campus newspaper coupled with creative peer educator efforts to call attention to this information students' perceptions of binge drinking and the actual rate of binge drinking began to drop. By 1995. students perceived that only 43 percent of their peers binged on alcohol. and the actual binge drinking rate dropped to 28 percent. Following similar efforts. the University of Arizona documented a reduction in binge drinking from 43 percent to 36 percent." Other institutions have also shown positive results using Positive Social Norming. Hobart and William Smith Col— lege has seen a 12 percent binge drinking reduction over a two-year period. and Western Washington University boasts an eight percent drop over one year. These are results that have not been seen using any other method. So now the Positive Social Norming campaign arrives at Augsburg. along with the other institutions involved in the Prevention Collaborative: Hamline University, Macalester College, Metropolitan State University, Min- neapolis Community and Technical College. North Hen— nepin Community College. and the University of St. Thomas, with funding from the Minnesota Office of Traf— fic Safety. We are witnessing and participating in one of the first campaigns of this kind nation—wide. We can only hope that our results will be as successful as those of our forerunners. *The staff in the Center for Counseling and Health Pro- motion want to hear from you about the campaign. Please contact us via phone at x1337, e-mail at mcguire@augs- burg.edu, or campus mail box 310. with your comments and questions, or for more information. ~-i§ll? ) “My first thought was a deep concem for the mutant trash squirrels that reside at Augs- burg." was sad.“ -Luke Saltzman. Junior "Yeah! Bright fluffy snowll But then I noticed it was melting so I -Angie Hardy. Freshman “I hate it! It signals the end of warm weather." -M.J. Iverson. Sophomore “$*&@ I am late for class!" - Angie Satre, Sophomore "It sucks! I hate it.” -Katie Kolles, Senior Show less
December 3rd 1999 séFeatures page 3 PROFILES: Professor James Vela-McConnell Allison Heimkes / Staff Writer James Vela—McConnell, a third-year social psychology pro- fessor at Augsburg, is working with the Political Science, Education, and Masters in Leadership departments to develop a course... Show moreDecember 3rd 1999 séFeatures page 3 PROFILES: Professor James Vela-McConnell Allison Heimkes / Staff Writer James Vela—McConnell, a third-year social psychology pro- fessor at Augsburg, is working with the Political Science, Education, and Masters in Leadership departments to develop a course geared toward several different majors, like English, History, and Social Work. “This may be the first class to be cross-listed between undergraduate and graduate schools,” McConnell said. Qualitative reasoning is a topic of interest to McMConell. He explained, “Qualitative reasoning focuses on individu- als’ experiences.” Qualitative research cannot be applied to more than that one individual in a case study, because no two persons’ experiences are the same. Quantitative rea- soning, on the other hand, is taking a large group and com- bining all their information and displaying it in numbers. Both types of reasoning have their advantages as well as disadvantages. Qualitative reasoning is strong in validity for individuals, but not for the general population, while quantitative reasoning is more reliable to the general masses, but there is a question of validity. Social affinity is the topic of McConnell’s book, Who is my Neighbor, which you can find in the bookstore. “It looks at the impact of globalization on our sense of moral obligation to our neighbors,” McConnell said. “Now in our global village, how do we help neighbors like we did in the old days?” McConnell asks. “Do we feel a sense of moral obligation to other cultures? Continents?” The world is literally brought into our living room now through television and the intemet. The scenes and infor— mation can be somewhat overwhelming, and people may feel helpless with all the world’s problems. People do get involved when there is a situation that directly affects them or someone they know. McConnell points out that there are many social problems that our soci— ety does not even realize, and that we may not feel their effects for 100 years. With a blue recycling can next to his desk and a healthy New trend in Stephanie Lein Staff Writer So, you’ve seen these posters up all over campus and are thinking to yourself, “What’s the deal?” MostAugsburg students choose to prevent DWI. “Yeah, right,” you might be saying. “Where’s the photograph of the totaled, wreck of a car with a bold printed message solemnly wanting me not to drink and drive? Where’s the drivers’ ed film Blood Spilled Red on the Highway? This can’t be for real, can it?” Your skepticism is completely understandable. It may seem strange at first to see a message with a positive spin. Probably for as long as most of us can remember, scare tactics such as the ones mentioned above, have been used in an attempt to alter the behaviors of everyone, from stu- dents to the general public. The underlying hope of these “health terrorism" messages is: If we scare you enough by showing the negative consequences of your poor choices, you will change. As research shows, such is not the case. Traditional methods of trying to reduce harmful behaviors, such as drinking and driving, have simply not worked. Enter the new approach: Positive Social Norming. This new trend in health education is being implemented at uni- versities and colleges across the country, including Augs- burg, in renewed efforts to reduce impaired driving and binge drinking. Developed by noted social scientists Dr. Alan Berkowitz and Dr. H. Wesley Perkins in the late eighties and early nineties, this theory focuses on the social causes of behaviors rather than individual motivation. The basic premise behind the theory? People’s choices are affected by the choices of their social group. In other words, peer pressure plays a major role in people's deci- sion making. I’m not talking about the kind of peer pres- sure where hulking guys sit around banging their fists on a table and demanding that you drink . . . or else. This type of peer pressure is the one in which you let your perception plant next to his chair, McConnell gives the example of the environment. Our decisions today jeopardize the long- terrn health of our environment. “We don’t feel an obliga- tion to our future generations," McConnell said. “We’ll be dead by then.” The way we think about social problems actually has an impact on whether we feel obligated to do something or not. Laura Walden/ECHO James Vela-McConnell, professor of social psychology at Augsburg College. In his book, McConnell focuses on hunger and AIDS. With hunger, Americans usually think about it as a problem in Africa and Third World countries around the world. We forget about the problems in our own country. “People see it on TV and change the channel because it disgusts them,” McConnell stated. “People conveniently forget about the hunger and homelessness that goes on in the US” With AIDS, we think of it as an American problem, when it is actually a bigger problem in other parts of the world. This is completely opposite of our feelings on hunger. With hunger, we are more likely to help others, and with AIDS, “we seem to protect ourselves and feel no responsi— bility beyond ourselves," McConnell said. He continued with the thought that it is easy to make a decision when we never see its impact. McConnell’s interim course. Cultures of Violence. looks at affinity versus hostility. “ljust don‘t get Violence." McConnell said as he shook his head. “I don‘t understand how people can beat their partner.” He is fascinated with this subject because he doesn’t understand the dynamics behind violence. In an environment where violence can emerge. people can put others aside. They are then more likely to hurt others if they are dehumanized. “It gives people permission to harm if they hate. That is how hate crimes originate." McConnell explained. There are socio-cultural reasons for violence. Entire insti- tutions and social systems use violence to keep order. like the prison system. Violence can be perpetuated in the fam— ily system. Internationally, Vela-McConnell’s interim course focuses on totalitarian governments, where U.S.— sponsored violence is taught abroad. “All of this informa— tion is pretty heavy,” McConnell said. The last part of the class focuses on non—violent altema- tives and conflict resolution. “Conflict is very good," McConnell said. “It allows us to change." The class has a lot of guest speakers that challenge stu- dents’ opinions. McConnell brings in a victim of spon— sored torture from El Salvador during the international portion of the class. McConnell said his classes have been shocked at her testimony. Before working at Augsburg, McConnell received his B.A. at Loyola in New Orleans in social psychology. and received his Masters in specialized social psychology and feminist epistemology. He taught at Boston College and Emerson, also in Boston. While in Boston, McConnell picked up the term that Joey uses on Friends: jimmies. Jimmies are sprinkles that you put on ice cream. McConnell concluded, “It must be a Northeast thing.” campus health education of what everyone is doing influence your decisions. For instance, if you witness your friends and peers drinking large amounts of alcohol, hear from friends about how much everyone drinks, and therefore think that everyone is doing it, you are much more likely to drink a lot of alcohol, too. This is where the problem arises. Because of the “grapevine effect” and a few standout incidents, people tend to develop misconceptions about what their peer group's choices actually are. Health Terrorism messages that focus on the negative only perpetuate the notion that everyone is doing it and that poor decisions. such as dri- ving while intoxicated, are the norm. Surveys have shown that college students grossly overestimate the quantity and frequency with which their student counterparts drink alco- hol and engage in other risky behaviors. Positive Social Norrning seeks to change students‘ behav- iors, then, by correcting the misconceptions that people hold. As opposed to narrowng in on the poor choices of the minority, this approach seeks to convey the healthy choices of the majority. Once people know the true num- bers and percentages, they can adjust their behavior accordingly. For instance, if you know that the majority of people drink moderately (four or fewer drinks at one time), or drive safely, you will be more likely to do the same. Seeing the actual statistics can come as a shock. The image of the college student as a heavy drinker and an impaired driver are so ingrained in our minds that it can be difficult to overcome. But if you see the message enough, and hear about it from others, soon you might not think it so strange. Northern Illinois University provides an example of how Positive Social Norming works. NIU was the first to implement this kind of a campaign in an effort to reduce binge drinking (drinking five or more drinks at one time). Their outcomes have demonstrated enormous success. When they began their campaign with surveys in 1989. “45 percent of undergraduates were classified as “binge drinkers,” but students in general estimated the number to be 70 percent of their peers. Following an extensive media see “DWI” page 4 4 .ll rimmtlw Show less
° 86 E .1: December 3rd 1999 4—t _ page 5 Andy Zetzman and Grant Jordahl summers . i.-- ...if Augsburg music dept. to Movie Review: Pokemon:TheMavie Grade: A- Yeah, alright. we’re dorks. We’ll readily admit to that. We went to go see the new Poke- Jason Wagner and Kathryn Koch man movie. So what... Show more° 86 E .1: December 3rd 1999 4—t _ page 5 Andy Zetzman and Grant Jordahl summers . i.-- ...if Augsburg music dept. to Movie Review: Pokemon:TheMavie Grade: A- Yeah, alright. we’re dorks. We’ll readily admit to that. We went to go see the new Poke- Jason Wagner and Kathryn Koch man movie. So what if we’re both avid fans of the new kids’ craze sweeping the nation? ECHO Staff It's really no different than Furbies or Beanie Babies. The Augsburg College music department along with Campus Ministry is currently If you like Pokemon at all, you will thoroughly enjoy this movie. If you don‘t like Poke- in preparation for its 20th annual Advent Vespers. to be held on Friday. December mon, or don’t know a thing about it, you probably won’t like it. It‘s basically one big 3 at 6 and 9 pm. and Saturday, December 4 at 5 and 8 pm. All t‘ouriservices will episode. Before the actual movie starts there is a feature film entitled "Pikachu’s Vaca~ be at Central Lutheran Church in Downtown Minneapolis. located at 333 South tion” and basically consists of Pokemon talking for twenty minutes. For those of you who Twelfth Street. don't know it. Pokemon are little pocket monsters that kids run around trying to catch and then train. And Pokemon can only say their own name or variations of it. For example. Advent Vespers celebrates the beginning of the Christmas season with traditional the lovable Pikachu can only say “Pikachu” and Squirtle can only say “Squirtle.” Bottom and contemporary hymns, anthems. and carols arranged for choral groups. soloists. line: you’ll wrsh you would’ve gone twenty minutes late. and orchestra. Participants include the Augsburg Choir. the Masterworks Chorale . . i . of Augsburg. the Riverside Singers of Augsburg. the Augsburg College Brass The movre itself was great. Screntists try to engineer a super Pokemon to help them with Ensemble, and the Vespers Orchestra. Conductors include Dr. Peter Hendrickson. their testing, but this new super Pokemon has other ideas. Mew-Two. as the super Poke- Nancy Grundahl, and Paul Ousley. mon is named, wreaks havoc on the scientists‘ lab and then goes off to break more things. Mew-Two then meets up with the evil Team Rocket but ends up blowing some of that up. The program includes seasonal readings and liturgical processionals lead by Cartr- too. Alone and confused. Mew—Two builds his own island and tries to become the world‘s pus Ministry. The processionals include candle bearers, Bible bearers. and banner greatest Pokemon trainer. Meanwhile. the “her0”of the film. Ash. is eating lunch with a bearers. The banners are all made by Campus Ministry and will continue to deco— friend when an invitation from rate the chapel throughout the year. Mew-Two comes via a big dragon. The invitation is for a One of the Midwest’s largest celebrations. Advent Vespers brings in over 10.000 Pokemon battle at Mew-Two’s people each year. Advent Vespers services will also be broadcast on Monday, Dec. place. Ash accepts and they’re 20 at 8 p.m. on WCAL radio at 89.3 FM. Admission to Advent Vespers is by seat— on their way. ing envelopes. which must be ordered in advance from the Augsburg College Music Department. Order forms for seating envelopes may be requested by call- We won't give away the rest of ing X1265 or e—mailing music@augsburg.edu. the movie. but there are some pretty predictable moments. There are some pretty unexpected fl ones as well. It’s a good film. ; i ~ You can. help bu, mm that me C arrecllons and A pologlcs .' last half hour is basically teach- ing kids to accept one another for a o _ ‘ who they are, not for where they tIn last week 5 ECHO we miscredtted the article on Bren— came from or what they look like. dan Anderson. Katie Koch was the writer of that piece Yes. we’ll admit it again. we‘re dorks. But we really enjoyed this not Maggie Weller. Also, Brendan was mrsquoted in the movie and hope that maybe some _ i . I _ of you will hop in your cars and article. l-Irs quote that read. “I hear it. I play it. it sounds go see it. That way, we‘ll know ‘ _ ” . . ' there were other college students ljgood, I like it, should have been. “I hear it. I play it, it Photo courtesy of Warner Bros Who wem‘ too. d d I ' ' ” Characters from the new movie Pokemon. soun S goo ’ wnte lt' l-_——k l : Chris Winger Staff Writer 7 7 Emily Nugent Staff Writer Movie Review: Sleepy Hollow Movie Review: Sleepy Hollow Grade: A Grade: B- Sleepy Hollow wastes no time at all in cutting to people’s heads coming off. Then you are whisked away to New York. 1799. where you meet Ichabod Crane (Johnny Depp). Mr. Tim Burton's inventive visual genius is put to the test in this movie. Following in the Crane is a constable who is into forensics and is sent to the town of Sleepy Hollow to grand tradition of his other movies. such as Beet/«juice and lit/twin] Sr tiwr [lulu/L llll\ investigate some strange murders. Crane talks to movie is a visual treat. But something is missing. “h usual absurdity and quirky flair are severely lessened. which untortuntttcly (ll\lllttl\ hour this otherwise charming movie. the town elders. and he first hears of the legend of Sleepy Hallow and the headless horseman. Later on we find out how complex Crane is and about his troubled Childhood. The story of Sleepy Hollow and the headless horseman l\ {I well known tale. The movie takes a traditional approach to exploring llll\ old story Ichibod Crane (Jonny Depp) is the quirky constable \clll lt'om New Yoil to explore the mysterious killings happening in Sleepy Hollow, There in- frnds not only that the killings are being done by a headless horseman. but that there is more to this story than plain old magic. lll New York llt‘ meets. and eventually tails for. a young woirrarr Katrina Vim 'liisxcl (Christina Ricci). who has more to do with the hohctrraii than Ichihotl first suspects. The rest of the plot I\ a campy mixture ol turmy clrtiizrcti tures and overused convention. This movie has beautiful scenery. is very funny. and has a lot of action (with some fright) mixed with a pinch of gore. It is not predictable. as most movies are. and can keep you thinking well into the movie. Tim Bunon has been. and continues to be. a good director. If you remember the scariest pan of Tim Burton‘s Pee Wee's Big Adventure. you may recog- nize some of these efiects mixed in with the gothic appeal of Edward Scissorhandx throughout Sleepy Hollow. Depp does a fine job of grvrng a likahility to lchrbod and his quirky sir entiiic ways. Ricci on the other hand. doesn’t bring much to her convert tional role. There are a few enjoyable moments amongst the minor This movie has a humor about it that makes it more 165} 0 movies ya? 3. Curr. shop, funny than~ frightening. but that doesn‘t mean there's Christina Riggii'égkamha Tassel and Johnny characters. but overall. nothing that leaves an impression. no fright either thence a good date movre t. The bad Depp as tchabod Crane in Seep), Hal/ow, things about this movie are that there are a couple The saving grace of this otherwise lackluster movie are the stunning easy movie-making mistakes (“thh is forgivable). visual effects that have become Burton's calling card. He creates a and the fact that it's not \ er} true to the book (which is not i. Crane is supposed to be an spooky. surrealistic atmosphere that surpasses the actors or the plot in it's ability to ugly man. but Depp is far from ugly But Depp works well with Burton; besides. it might frighten. The downfall of 5168p) Hollow is a combination of simplistic plot and sketchy be weird having Steve Buscemi portraying Ichabod Crane. editing. Throughout. I wanted to see more weirdness and more risks than what were pic sented. Overall. it is not a bad movie. but what gives it any strength are the glorious vrsur Overall. Sleepy Hollow is a pretty entertaining film you can take your grandmother to als and effects. Something is definitely missing trom this movie. but ll is still worth (assuming she doesn't mind people’s heads coming off i. watching to capture the essence of Burton's spooky. fantastic world. Show less
December 3rd, 1999 .iEcho Volume 106 Issue 8 In this issue: Millionaire Madness. page 2 Profiles: James Vela-McConnell. page 3 Back to the Nest: Mankato. MN. page 4 Merging Homosexuality and Christianity, page 6 Auggie wrestling fall in tough match. page 8 Faculty approves new Rochester site Cass... Show moreDecember 3rd, 1999 .iEcho Volume 106 Issue 8 In this issue: Millionaire Madness. page 2 Profiles: James Vela-McConnell. page 3 Back to the Nest: Mankato. MN. page 4 Merging Homosexuality and Christianity, page 6 Auggie wrestling fall in tough match. page 8 Faculty approves new Rochester site Cass Dalgllsh and Laura Weldon ECHO Staff The Augsburg College Faculty voted in favor of establishing a “branch campus” in Rochester. The vote on the six-part motion offered by the faculty senate was 70 in favor, 21 against and one abstention. The faculty vote signals approval of three actions and suggests three guarantees. The three actions are: * Submission of a request to the North Central Accreditation to approve the Rochester site as a branch campus. * Granting the BS with a major in nursing and the MA in nursing with a concentration in transcul- tural community health nursing at Rochester. * Authorization of the faculty senate to develop a process to evaluate new majors or any other academic programs at Minneapo— lis, Rochester, or any other Augs- burg branch campus. The process will be brought to the faculty for approval in February 2000. The “guarantees” include: * Faculty approval of any addi- tional majors or other academic programs at Rochester or any other site. * The administration‘s follow- ing established college and departmental procedures for course approval and staffing. * Agreement by the adminis— tration to follow the process deter- mined by faculty for adding degrees or programs; the admin- istration must also guarantee that tenure-track faculty hired before Fall 2000 will not be required to teach in Rochester unless there are not enough courses in Min— neapolis to give them full-time loads. Under the plan, faculty who do not have enough courses to teach in Minneapolis could either teach in Rochester or reduce their course loads. Beginning in fall 2000, faculty contracts will specify where new faculty may be required to teach. President William Frame told the Echo that the administration’s guarantees were in place as soon as the faculty voted to approve the motion. “That guarantee was included in this proposal." Frame said. “It can’t be separated from it.” Opposition to the Rochester plan came from those who felt it might put further strain on faculty involvement in the day school in Minneapolis “We are overworked and we are underpaid...ls this going to exac- erbate that?” asked Diane Pike. chair of the sociology department. “I’m worried that the day program will be hurt by this." The faculty who spoke in favor of the motion called for caution. “We need to develop this program very carefully if we’re going to do it, so we can ensure the quality of it." said John Schmit. associate professor of English. Vicki Olson. chair of the educa— tion department. reminded faculty that the master's in education was canceled a few year's ago. “This is not a commitment forever.“ she said. “We can cancel it if it does- n't work out.“ Garry Hesser. professor of sociol- ogy. encouraged the faculty by saying. “We need to start taking risks.” Rosemary Link. professor of social work. said that risks like this one can be energizing. “I think that if St. Thomas can go to Rome, we can go to Rochester.” Link said. The Great American Smokeout Laura Waldon Co-Editor in Chief On November 18, a health promo- tion called The Great American Smokeout. encouraged college students across the nation to quit smoking. Right here on campus, Augsburg’s Center for Counseling and Health Promotion made its own attempt to help students quit smoking by handing out free “quit kits" in Christensen Center and offering positive encouragement to students who showed interest. The drive to help smokers quit seems particularly necessary at Augsburg College because of its large percentage of students who smoke. According to a survey taken last May of 307 Augsburg students, 55 percent of the stu— dents on campus used tobacco. However, nationally, only 38 per- cent of college students reported that they used tobacco. Because there are so many health problems associated with smok- ing, these numbers show that more than half of Augsburg’s stu- dents are putting their health at an unnecessary risk. The May survey also showed that of Augsburg students who use tobacco, 26 percent use it three times a week or more, while nationally, only 17 percent of stu- dents use tobacco three times a week or more. “Through the years, Augsburg has had a consistently higher rate of tobacco use than the national sam— ple,” stated Nancy Gibo, Director of Counseling and Health Promo- tion. These numbers seem alarming because, “Tobacco use accounts for 30 percent of all cancer deaths in the United States,” according to a fact sheet from Augsburg’s Cen- ter for Counseling and Health Promotion. In one year alone, 400,000 people die from tobacco use. As a result, health care providers and educators make a yearly nationwide attempt to per— suade smokers to stop their harm— ful habits. Despite the numerous heath risks involved with smoking to stu- dents, many choose to continue using tobacco. “I think I’m physically addicted. but I do it because Ienjoy it.“ stated junior Chris Carr. Some Augsburg students said that they would not stop using tobacco because smoking helps to calm their nerves, while other students stated that they would continue smoking because it is a social activity for them. “Part of smoking is your social atmosphere,” said junior Merry- Ellen Krcil. “When you're stand- ing around with friends, it's just something to do.” the dead. WTO gets down to business With the preliminaries over and the protests already under way. the World Trade Organization opens its conference in Seattle on Tuesday with global leaders pressing for a new trade pact. It was the largest trade event in the U.S. and the attending leaders were deeply divided over the agenda. \Vrth protesters thronging in the streets. security was on high alert. Trade representatives from the WTO’s 135 member nations had held preliminary talks for two days in advance of the conference. News Briefs: The Nation, The World FBI investigates mass graves The FBI is expected to begin assisting Mexican authorities in their investigation of what may be two mass graves discovered across the U.S. border from El Paso, Texas, near Juarez, Mexico, U.S. government sources have told CNN. Sources say “dozens” of FBI agents and forensic experts have arrived in El Paso and are expected to be taken to the sites Tuesday. Mexican officials have informed U.S. authorities that U.S. citizens may be among U.S. navy man charged as spy A U.S. Navy cryptologist has been charged with espionage and jailed for allegedly mailing a com— puter disk holding top secret information to the Russian Embassy in Washington in 1994. Penta- gon sources say. the sailor, Daniel King. was arrested by agents of the Naval Criminal Investiga- tive Service on November 4 and was charged with one count of espionage and one count of unlawful disclosure of classified information. Historic week in Ireland Northern Ireland appeared back on the road to a peaceful settlement of its sectarian conflicts Sun- day. but major steps remain in the week ahead. Sat- urday's Ulster Unionist Party vote endorsing a compromise on disarming paramilitary groups clears the way for the establishment of a local gov— emment in the British province. which has been under direct rule from London for most of three decades. That government could be fully in place and empowered by the end of the week. Several students reported that they started smoking as a leisure activity with their friends. How- ever, when this activity continues. it can turn into an unhealthy addiction that is very difficult to escape. On a comment board posted out- side of Murphy’s that asks. “How has tobacco impacted people at Augsburg?” one student wrote. “Smoking has done nothing good for me. lwake up coughing. I look 10 years older. and [find it impossible to quit after 12 years.“ If you are interested in quitting smoking. you may contact the Center for Counseling and Health Promotion at 330-1707. Defining Augsburg Pres. Frame questions “Liberal Arts ” title By Jesse Woodrofte NEWS E6320! For some time now, the nature of an Augsburg education, and of Augsburg itself, has been a topic of contention among the faculty of Augsburg College. That is. there has been some dis- agreement as to what sort of school Augsburg really is. According to its mission state- ment, Augsburg College seeks to provide “an education based in the liberal arts.” This gives the impression that Augsburg is Lib- eral Arts college. However, according to President Frame. it‘s not. “It is advantageous for Augs- burg to distinguish itself from the great crowd of those colleges which call themselves ‘Liberal Arts coileges,’” said President Frame. “Liberal Arts colleges are selective. and are becoming more selective; their require- ments {for the SAT and ACT] arerising.andsoistheincorne 'ofthenewclasses. Thcyare concerned with ‘input’ mea- sures.” Conversely. Frame explains that “Augsburg insists that sander-Its who leave have mixed liberal and professional malice. Many students major in professional studies but are not narrow. Augsburg is concerned with ‘output.”’ Furthermore, Augsburg does not fit the stereotype of the private Liberal Arts college. “The Lib— eral Arts college is a cloistered institution. It is either in the country, or, if in a city, not inte- grated into the city. The Liberal Arts college is far more inter- ested in the humanities and sci- ences than professional studies.“ Also, “Most have forgotten their connection with the church.” All of these things, say President Frame, distinguish Augsburg from “Liberal Arts” colleges. Augsburg is affiliated with the EVangelical Lutheran Church in America. This connection is demonstrated by Augsburg‘s mission statement, which states that part of its purpose is to nur- ture. This is very reminiscent of Martin Luther’s belief in voca- tion and service. And it is this vocation and service attitude, according to President Frame. that leads to “a sort of practical wisdom, which is superior to the conventional sense of ‘Liberal Arts’ wisdom.” What, then is, Augsburg. if not a “Liberal Arts" college? in the words of Augsburg College Pres— ident William Frame. “We are an institution with a certain charac- ter. looking for a name for that character.” Show less
December 3rd. 1999 sEOginion all the craze Jenny Anderson Copy Editor After dinner at Murphy's. I sit down to watch the boob-tube. taking time to just relax. As I channel surf with the new remote control I got as a gift from my roommate. I stumble upon the nation‘s number one show. My palms start... Show moreDecember 3rd. 1999 sEOginion all the craze Jenny Anderson Copy Editor After dinner at Murphy's. I sit down to watch the boob-tube. taking time to just relax. As I channel surf with the new remote control I got as a gift from my roommate. I stumble upon the nation‘s number one show. My palms start sweating and my heart starts pounding. My eyes grow large with anticipation. Chuck Willory asks. “What is the primary color on a box of C lice- rios‘Y" I look at the right half of the screen to see this is the 564.000 question and I frantically start shouting. “Yellow! It‘s Yel- low 7" Chuck then lists the four choices. “Red. Blue. Yellow. or Green?" The contestant hesitates: I stand up so fast I feel the blood rush to my head. "Yellow. you moron!" The contestant takes a deep breath and says. "Yellow." The yellow bar on the screen is high- lighted and there is a dramatic pause. The contestant sits there still—eyes closed. I stand in my living room—fists clutched. Waiting. “Yellow it is!" says the once host of the Love Connection. Chuck Willory. I fall down on the couch feeling as though I have just run a marathon. Every major muscle group of my body releases ten- sion as I watch the commercials. What show causes millions of viewers in the U.S.. including myself.to feel this way? None other than Greed. Shows like Greed and Who Wants to be a Millionaire are causing near heart attacks across the nation. They are also game shows that some are calling the “most exciting moments in television history." The most popular of the two is by far Who Wants to be a Million- aire. ABC‘s primetime jugger- naut is hosted by the enthusiastic Regis Philbin and has held the highest Nielson rating. surpassing NBC's Frasier. The object of Who Wants to be a Millionaire is simple. Just answer all I5 questions correctly and win a cool million dollars. The player has a little help along the way. by means of choosing a "lifeline". These are available at anytime and are developed to help the player advance to the next ques- tion. "Lifelines" include phoning a friend. asking the audience and 50/50 (where two choices are eliminated). An astonishing 21 million people tuned in on November 20 to see John Carpenter win the jackpot. When he saw the million dollar question--Which president appeared on the television series Laugh-Innhe knew the answer. but used his “lifeline” to phone his father. John shocked the viewers by saying. “Hi. Dad. I don't really need your help. Ijust want you to know I'm going to win the million dollars." That particular episode has been described by Tony Bennett as “the best thing he's ever seen on Why are so many people drawn to this phenomenon? Personally. I am addicted to these shows because of the combination of theatrical lighting. dramatic music and no-brainer questions for thou- sands of dollars. making those intense episodes worth while. If you are curious. check your local listings for times and chan- nels to partake in this historical phenomenon. Ben and Liz Staff Writers Have you ever noticed how time seems to pass con- tinually slower as class approaches its theoretical “end?” For example. say you are sleeping in class at the beginning of the hour. You are awakened by your professor asking. “Why are the city squirrels able to thrive on stale muffins from Murphy's?" or another question of equal importance. You note that you have been sleeping for ten minutes. You vow to remain attentive to the wise-ramblings but never-the— less nod off again. You again are awakened but this time notice that only five minutes have passed. even though you could have sworn you slept for the same amount of time. This phenomena has been a common experience among college students. and caused Ben to question the continuity of time in the classroom. as experi- enced by the student. “There I was: it was my freshman year." said Ben. “Every other day I found myself confined to the class- room of one of my non—sci- ence perspectives. All I wanted was for class to come to an end so that I could scurry off to the biology lab (my first love at the time). At the beginning of class. time would appear to pass at a “nonnal” rate. As the class would proceed. however. time would grind to a halt at a noticeable rate. Seconds seemed like min- utes and minutes like hours. At times I would become upset at the professor's blatant disregard for time. Certainly I had been in class for at least two. maybe three. hours. but when I would reference the clock. I would discover a mere thirty minutes had passed. Realizing this could not be possible. I began to note the apparent length of each minute versus the amount of time the clock claimed had passed." These observations have remained secret until now. We have now found each other. and Ben's first love is no longer biology. During a recent conversation we began to discuss the phenomena. Liz had also noticed its existence. As you know. Liz is a math and chemistry major who greatly enjoys mathemati- cal modeling. She is often in search of situations in which she can practice this dark an. The passing of time in the classroom can be modeled by several equations. depending on the class. One particular function models an interesting class that is A C C: Conservative Compassion “Is it possible that graduation is nothing more than a staged cover-up for the fact that classes never actually end? ” right before lunch. and you are hungry: f(x)=(x- 63)/(x-60). where x equals the number of minutes passed on the clock. {(x) equals the number of min- utes that have seemingly passed. In this case. the clock may say that the first ten minutes of class has passed but 10.5 minutes were perceived to have passed. This is so small you wouldn’t have noticed it. But after 30 “clock minutes," 32 minutes are per- ceived to have passed, and after 55 “clock minutes." class should have been over because 62 minutes have seemingly passed. This may not seem like a lot. but the function also tells us that after “55 min- utes." there are still 25 perceived minutes of class left. Class never ends! If you add up the amount of time you feel like you spend in class it will exceed any reasonable expectations. This explains several things. Have you ever noticed certain people who never seem to “graduate?” There are several people that were seniors when we were freshmen. Three years have now passed. and they are still here. “Say, weren‘t you supposed to graduate last May?" we ask. “No. just a couple more things to finish up. Seems like classes just never end. Maybe this year." comes the reply. Then there are those who appear to have grad- uated. yet the very next year. there they are. It is as if they never left. There are numerous faculty and staff that fit this profile. Is it pos- sible that graduation is nothing more than a staged cover-up for the fact that classes never actually end? Could it simply be a strategy for keeping us all trapped unquestioningly in a never-ending system. forever pursuing that diploma. and a better way of life? Do not be fooled. The next time you begin to think that school seems to be going on forever—— it just might. We have come up with a little song that may help you pass those long hours in the class room. Feel free to sing right out. It won't be a waste of class time since. after all. class will just go on and on. It goes something like this: “This is the class that never ends. It just goes on and on my friends. Some peo- ple started taking it. not knowing what it was. and they'll continue taking it foreverjust because this is the class that never ends . . We will leave the rest of the tune up to you. The Weekly Useless Fact .' The electric chair was invented by a dentist. not even know. Each of us is a leader. because each of us By Matt Bergin and Trevor E. Johnson Staff Writers We recently received an e-mail from a conservative organi- zation that basically laid out the conservative beliefs about giving and compassion (not the George W. Bush version. either). We just wanted to share parts of this with you because we could not have said it better ourselves: “Putting self-interest aside for a day (Thanksgiving) does not give a full enough account of the nature of man and the things around him. For self-interest cannot be said to be the driving force of human society. Self-interest is impor- tant. But it cannot be called either more or less important than another motive in the human breast. It is not separa— ble from that other motive Self-interest cannot be under- stood by itself. Consider the expression. “charity begins at home." Does it also end there? To answer that question. we must bring up politics for a moment. Politics is necessary here because it is the most authoritative form of community here in this life. All of the most important things we do together are powerfully affected by politics. Politics has a monopoly on force. If the law makes a statement. it settles the matter. That is why conditions among human beings. all part of the same species. can be so different from one country to the next. That is why we are specially blessed here in this country. Because this country is special. and because of the way in which it is special. we can see here best of all why charity to those outside ourselves is simply crucial to our own self- interest. Becausejust as charity is essential in a family. so also it is essential in a community. Families are. after all. made up of only a few people. They cannot all be self-suf- ficient. Misfortune befalls people all the time. and the weak are left helpless. But if they are not helped. then notjust the weak inside one family will suffer. but the neighbors. and their neighbors. will be exposed to scenes of misery that will make their lives also a misery. When families break down. either there is charity, or else suffering spreads. In America we accomplish charity outside the home in a unique way. In Europe. or in most of the old places on the earth. charity outside the home is the preservation of a few. And of course this means that those in need of charity must depend upon a few only for help. This is bad for those in need. But it is bad for the rest of us. too. In a society where a few dominate. all the others. and not only they who depend upon charity. are left in a condition of dependence. Americans are self-reliant and self-interested. But Ameri- cans arc also charitable. Each and every one of us feels entitled to do something not only for ourselves. and not only for our own children. but also for others whom we do is an equal citizen. And so we see that self-interest is important. and the mar- ket is important. But they are not all. Self-interest and the market are one force in society. but they cannot be sepa- rated from another force. Self-interest and charity are one. Every society requires charity as much as it requires self— interest and the market. And here is the most important point: a free society. espe- cially this particular free society. requires and allows each and every one of us to be charitable people. Either we will feed the people who cannot feed themselves. or else the government will feed them. But if the government feeds them. then we will not really be free men and women. We will be lesser people. not so great as the high potentates who have the real power and do the real work. Here. then. we see that we serve our own liberty: and therefore our own interest: when we take charge of the job of helping others. From this point of view. the invisible hand is not just the market. The invisible hand is the hand of God. The invisi- ble is us." ***** We would like to thank Larry Amn for that statement. and we wish everyone “happy holidays!" Show less