Procrastination

It’s 2:32 a.m. I have an eight page paper due on the performance history of Shakespeare’s “Hamlet,” due in seven hours, and I’m watching Rick tell Ilsa to get on the plane at the end of “Casablanca” for the umpteenth time. Eventually, during the tearful finale, the propellers will buzz and Rick will say the immortal line “We’ll always have Paris.”
I stare at the television enjoying the performances by Bogart and Bergman all the while occasionally shooting a glance at the blank computer screen with the cursor blinking like the remaining seconds of a bomb waiting to explode in my face. Yet I sit there, watching my movie, pondering what reason I can give my professor to get an extension on this paper. Maybe I just won’t show up to class, and get it done, and then email it to her later. It won’t be a big deal. I’ll be able to get it done. Now it’s 3:32 a.m. Marlon Brando is waxing poetic about how he “coulda been a contenda” in the back of a car in “On the Waterfront.” The paper now has an opening paragraph, but is truly no closer to eight pages than it was one hour ago.
I tell myself, “I can get this done. If I just write two pages an hour, I’ll be in the clear.”
I never once thought that these bad habits I had cultivated, over these nearly eight semesters of college, would come back to bite me in the ass. So, I learned to procrastinate with the best of them because I didn’t think I had to work that hard.
Procrastination is one of those problematic little phenomena that college students have created to make excuses for why our homework isn’t done, and why we stay up until 4 a.m. working on a paper. We’ve made up little jokes about it and create Facebook status updates about it, and yet it’s something that doesn’t go away.
As a young student in elementary school and high school, the actual day-to-day homework part was easy. I barely had to break a sweat to get things done because either I got it done at home the night before, or there was enough time during the day that you could easily get things done before that appropriate class period.
This ailment has never been limited to just me though. We’re a nation of procrastinators who desperately want our pleasures right away, but who take a laissez-faire attitude about getting anything accomplished on time. Professors would rather continue doing their own research for their upcoming journal article on the obtuse influence of Balzac on Faulkner for the Publication for the Modern Languages Association than grade a stack of essays, Congress takes weeks at a time to call a vote on Washington D.C. snow removal because it can, and students just wait until the last possible moment to finish a short essay on the Franco-Prussian War.
I am no different. Instead of doing my homework, I found other things to occupy my brain with that I found more important that accomplishing my tasks on time. I watched films, read books for leisure, watched television, and masturbated; anything that was an easy alternative to reading bullshit religion books or doing pre-calculus. I got away with it then because I was smart, and I could talk my way out of the potential problems that could occur. I began to believe my own hype. I believed that my contribution to the academic world was such that the world would be lesser for not having me in it.
That’s the trickiest part about procrastination; it’s not just limited to the unknowledgeable, the lazy, or the unmotivated. It can be the smartest kid in the class, because he doesn’t think he has to work that hard, or an extremely driven young lady who assumes that under the time crunch she can churn out the first chapter of her novel in four hours.
It’s never a clear cut-and-dry reason for why people do this either. In some cases, people just start too late. They assume they have a smaller task in front of them that ends up being a climb up Kilimanjaro. In my case, and I would assume in the case of many others, this pressure could be a fear of failure or even worse, a fear of success. I want reassurance that my work is adequate or even good, and I don’t want to feel the sting of a B+ when I know in my heart that the paper was a C-. Maybe we’re afraid to grow up? College is a time when we’re told to enjoy it, and savor each moment, because it all goes downhill from here. So why not try to prolong the experience. What’s another year of school when you could be out in the lousy world of mortgages, student loan bills, and no job?
So what do I do? I retreat; I avoid; I accept defeat. Many other procrastinators are able to break through their coulda, woulda, shouldas and get their work done. They can see the benefit of barreling through and accomplishing the goal no matter how haphazard the results may look or sound. But I can’t seem to. So I walk around the academic buildings like a feral cat; jumpy, disorientated, and anxiety-ridden. I take different hallways to avoid the potential confrontations with professors, who only want to help, but that I assume are out to reprimand me. Such is the life of a procrastinator.
Curing this disease is an on-going process. It’s hopefully something that won’t last me the rest of my life, but maybe that’s too unrealistic. I want to eventually be able to graduate from college, get out, and live my life. I want to work as a professional writer, and have children, but none of those things can happen until I finish the paper. And that will only happen when I finally stop trying to ignore that blinking cursor, put aside my insecurities, and get to work.

Gonna Make You Sweat

A couple years ago, during one of the university's big cuts of faculty and staff, they chose to let go Helen Martin, a Phys. Ed. professor and longtime adjunct. With her firing, she took with her all swim classes, all fitness walking classes, and a lessened department too.

Recently though, the faculty also had another big decision to make regarding this sometimes overlooked department. There was a vote whether to keep the phys. ed requirements as part of the general education requirements. Those against it complained of its cost and how difficult it is to have tenured faculty who don't teach that many classes and aren't contributing more than two minimal courses over the length of a college career. Those in favor spoke the most stridently to its necessity as necessary a part to a liberal arts education as history or religion

Thankfully in a measure that showed both smarts and an investment down the road, they voted to keep them. What a sad world it would have been if they hadn't. Higher education is an increasingly difficult balancing act of doing what's good for the students as well as doing what's in the budget. But if we would have eliminated it, especially the lifestyle sports, they instill a sense of ways to stay in shape later in life when the football field or the basketball court may not be available. In the most Buddhist of ways, the union of mind and body is one of the tent poles of a liberal arts education. How can we preach the importance of sociology or painting if we can't also promote and praise the importance of those who train and make our bodies better and healthier too.

What To Do With a B.A. In English

The above title comes from a tune from the Broadway musical "Avenue Q," but it might as well be he story of my life right now.

It's been five of the most tumultuous, life-changing years of my life, and other than actually getting things done earlier, I wouldn't have changed a damn thing.

This work for the journalism minor has been my saving grace and (nearly) my self-inflicted fatal wound. In four, short years, I quickly moved up the ranks from lowly contributor to regular staff writer, eventually to editor-in-chief, and finally as a sort of adviser emeritus. I wrote more than the required two stories a week, became a vocal member of the staff, managed a staff, and eventually in many ways, became the public face of the paper. It wasn’t always the best of circumstances. There was in-fighting, a couple near staff coups, enough blown deadlines to put Ben Bradlee into an early grave, and the never-ending problem with finding enough writers to cover all the things we want and need in a given week. But there were also successes. We successfully took the paper from an absolutely laughing stock on the brink of imminent disaster to a trusted source for information in an age when the campus rumor mill could never be stronger. We achieved some of the legitimacy that we struggled for years to gain, and the paper just became this new force to be reckoned with on the campus scene. We had a newspaper, and it looked and read like a newspaper.

We thought and believed that a dedicated, yet minimal group of writers, editors, photographers could change the world. Well the world, or maybe just the campus landscape. We would be looked at with new eyes, and people would look to us to get their news first. When the chatter moved from laughing at the Torch to rage by its lack of willingness to adhere to the administration’s pleading to avoid the big stories and the PR nightmares, we knew we were on the right track. This is also when my involvement became more and more monomaniacal. It became a poker game I was playing with my life, career, and future. I had a staff of dedicated people, but unlike them I couldn’t balance all the things I wanted to do, with the things I had to do. Then, I took the big step backwards. I had focus on me and do some of my best work in the classes and on the journalism trip to Chicago. Journalism has opened me up to the world in a way that I’ve never been more excited by and terribly scared as well. Never has there ever been more media circulation and never have there been fewer jobs to go around.

I desperately want a career in this industry! I have a voice and a particular nuance to the world that I know I must share. I’d like to go to grad school as well, but I know I need to work for a few years to gain some experience outside of the safe walls of the Torch office. There has to be arbiters of good writing out there in the world because otherwise there are more and more cheap hacks that don’t know what they’re doing and let their personal beliefs spew into the writing like the Ebola virus through the human body. Writing has made me a better person, and I know this is what I have to do. I have to; I don’t know what else I could do in this turkey burger economy.

Certainly Not Speechless: Three Speeches that Helped to Change America

In the last week Western Civilization has certainly had its share of memorable moments.

In what's being dubbed the Wedding of the Century, Prince William married Kate Middleton at Westminster Abbey, the same place of his parents wedding over 30 years ago. The Vatican beatified John Paul II pushing him even closer to sainthood, and President Obama announced the death of the world's most dangerous and hunted man Osama bin Laden.

But in between the wedding, the beatification, and the killing of the century, there was a trio of media events involving President Obama that helped to define the world and times in which we live and to help define him as a man who could still easily destroy in 2012.

Last Wednesday, the President spoke to the White House Press Corp to finally announce they were releasing his birth certificate to the public to prove once and for he is an American citizen. After years of mudslinging from the Right, assumptions of his Kenyan roots, and continued threats of challenging his presidency, it seemed it would eventually come out. And instead of trying to make a big to-do about it, our illustrious Commander-in-Chief used wit, charm, and a tongue-in-cheek mentality to express his distaste for the fact that even during the serious budget fights between his White House and Congress the dominant news story was about this birth certificate issue. As he said, he'd rather we as a country pay attention to the vast concerns we still have in front of us as a nation instead of bothering to discuss in vain where the President was born. In a quick five and a half minutes, he cut a deep hole into the favorite punchlines of the far rights, and reminded us why we liked him in the first place.

Over the weekend, the White House Correspondent's Dinner also took place. The grand fete of the major news outlets who cover the White House, politicians, and celebrities always brings a good round of laughter (Remember Stephen Colbert a few years ago?), and there's always some good ribbing at the expense of those in attendance. Obama, always up for a good joke, willingly took a good shellacking from comedians and dished one out just as well to both VP Biden, Donald Trump, and the Republican-controlled House of Representatives. He's a charming affable guy who knows how to take a joke better than anyone since Clinton. Yes he may be a celebrity in the best way since Kennedy, but he has also has a intellect and a wit that most recent presidents can't touch.

Looking back it's amazing, knowing now that he knew of the Bin Laden capture and death, that he was able to put on such a smiling happy persona and face a crowd ready to be entertained.



After all his frivolity and circus antics of the week had commenced, what came Sunday night was something we hadn't seen in a long time, and in many cases ever. What started as a normal Sunday night ended in a triumphant return to form for a man whose taken his share of beatings in the press and from his political opponents of late. In his address to nation detailing the death of Osama bin Laden, he staked a claim that he is a strong leader as well as a mind at work. He can lead a group of men, and he can make a tough decision under pressure. He reminded us of who the enemy is and should have been all that time ago, and defiantly stood in the face of history and said, "My name is Barack Obama and I am the President." It was a sober and stark about face from the silliness of his mock Lion King birth video from Saturday evening, but it showed the facets of a man whose still at the forefront of a national conversation. I can't fathom any of the yahoos who plan on trying to run for president next year for the Republicans will have a chance when a Democrat just proved his impressiveness when it comes to security matters.

Decisions are made by those who show up, and in the last few days, Obama has shown up and proved his worth in gold time and time again.

To Make You Feel Proud

It's been a year. One year ago Saturday, I stopped trying to hide myself behind the people I cared about and the version of myself I thought was more palatable for the rest of the world, and just said it out loud and proud. I'm gay.

It's certainly not a announcement I came to lightly, and frankly there are people in my family, chiefly my dad and my younger brother, who still don't know. It's still something that is difficult for my friends and family who do know to grasp and relate to, because well I've always just been Drew. Big, tall, lovable Drew. Constant shoulder to cry on, always the nice guy, and an asexual being for all time.

In the last year though, it seems the world and culture around me is trying to give as many opportunities as it can to make sure that I and thousands of other young people begin to understand that it's okay, and it will get better.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell was repealed in a stunning and grand statement made by the Commander of the Joint Chiefs, Congress, and the President to announce that no matter who you're boning, we can still be safe, corp morale doesn't have to be hurt, and heaven forbid we allow people to be who they are. Television and film has presented gay characters in all forms and levels of swishiness to suit even the most frustrated and easily grossed-out homophobe. The struggle of young teens trying to decipher the difficult waters of sexuality in the 21st century is on full display in a bold and brash way. Shows like "Glee" that reach a wide range of audiences in terms of age, are making their characters topics of discussion so parents and children can be more honest and think freely about how they feel.

Even after a rush of increasingly scary and increasingly heinous suicides of gay youths, Dan Savage, openly gay writer, activist, and sex columnist started the It Gets Better campaign to talk to the youth of the world to let them know that their pain and their eventual triumph is not in vain. Everyone from President Obama, gay-friendly celebrities like Kathy Griffin, and even the staff of Pixar Studios willingly put their voice where their heads are at on the rights of those who are bullied for being GLBT.

Even in my personal life, friends and I have been able to have serious discussions about the equal rights groups, what their preconceived notions are, how religion and politics work into this debate, and why they have reservations.

It's this willingness to improve our world and realize the importance of each of one its individuals that makes me hopeful that my eventual partner and I can raise children and we can honestly tell them that they can be whoever they want to be no matter what difference they have in the world that may try to encumber them.

Is There Anybody Out There?- Blogging to Cyberspace

For years, The Torch promised to join the 21st century.

It was using software so antiquated that the publisher had to dig up an old template from the first Bush administration to have the paper published. Even high school yearbooks with the most minimal of budgets were even using software that was more updated and more user-friendly.

But thanks to the hard work of a group of dedicated people as well as a tidy grant from the university, The Torch finally updated getting the most advanced and the best software for laying out pages, editing photos and creating art for itself. The problem was...we were already getting put behind the ball once again.

Having a solid, and I'll grant you sometimes glorious, print edition is good, but we needed to move into a different realm. We needed to move online. Well...we've begun to move online. With a web edition of the paper now available the nonstop media machine is able to access the Torch in its best ways and comment instantly rather than the arduous task of writing a letter to the editor. Hell, the way the Torch has been run this year, sometimes you don't get a letter in the letter because somebody may not like what you have to say.

But this insurgence of online press has begun to move into our journalism classes as well. This semester, as evidence by what you're reading, the Advanced News Writing class was required to keep a regular blog about what was going on in their beat...Wittenberg University. We were to give comment and do some makeshift reporting in this new and odd world of commentary news that still upheld the principles of good writing we come to know, respect, and expect.

Some of us have covered our spring break vacations, our brand new Twitter accounts, or even trying to smile more. (Yeah Shelly!) But we've also covered more serious topics such as a continually bigoted campus, drug use, and most recently the death of Osama bin Laden. Was it successful? Did it achieve its goals?

In many ways, I think it did. Forcing our writer brains outside of their safe and happy homes, forced some interesting and never boring results. The problem was consistency. Early on, we were fired up about the blogs writing about the dirty things like drugs and racism. And since we were excited about it, we discussed it in class. There was heated debate that may not have ended with resolution but at least with a better understanding of the views of your fellow classmates.

But then life and other work began to encroach. We got busier, forgot about the blogs, and they became for some, a burden rather than the exciting new potential they could have been. I wish we would have discussed them more, gotten into conversations about things that move beyond the Witt Bubble. Expanding our conversation about what's going on campus is important, but moving beyond that to discuss the world, it's issues, and how to cover them as journalists is important as well.

We as students should have been more intent on reading our classmates work. If we were, we would have moved more quickly to discussing them. Instead, after twenty minutes, some of us tried to get out of class and ignore the obvious things left to work on.

I can't wait to continue to blog about the things I care about, the things I wish more would notice, and things I feel an imperative to bring attention to.

Happy blogging everyone, and Mac definitely keep requiring it.

Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies- Gossip Culture at Wittenberg

Being a newspaper reporter or a purveyor of journalism in any way, you learn to get your ear to the grindstone and be open to find a story wherever you can find it. Sometimes it comes in the form of a rumor. Like the Fleetwood Mac album title, rumors are the lifeblood of what I do. They fuel what could start as the mention from somebody's office assistant and end up being the next day's headline.

Wittenberg's especially good at this rumor-mongering. Especially when it comes to personal information after a night of excessive drinking. Everything from the sexual exploits of your sorority sister to the identity of that guy who drove his car onto Alumni Way, the rumor mill can be your friend if you like to dish the dirt.

But there is a nice side to the mill. It can get me the story, and it can help me track down sources. In some situations everyone's willing to tell you anything, but in some you have to be more covert. Journalists thrive on this. The Washington Post took down the Nixon White House using a secret, rumored source nicknamed "Deep Throat." If something is going on inside of a faculty meeting, some loose-lipped secretary or student worker turns into a spiraling mess of words, accusations, and eventual things that we can fill columns inches with.

But the downside to this cyclone of craziness is that with the start of any good piece of gossip comes the inevitable telephone effect. What starts off as WittFest being moved because of rain, ends up being WittFest is cancelled because Dean Kelly doesn't want us to drink. Is it that we want the salacious piece of news to carry on that we're willing to embellish a bit? How can we use these gabby people to our advantage if they keep changing the story? Boasters and overly talkative people: here's a message to you. Help me out! Get your stories straight so that I can get mine straight too. I want to be able to have story ideas that are founded on more than the potential you hear on the street. Get me a better story because you got the facts straight. Everyone should become a little bit of a reporter themselves, because then when I ask around it's not a series of "I don't knows" and "I'm not sures" but rather a well-informed "Oh well this is what happened." Give me an inch so I can make a mile of headway on it.

I'm Gonna Sit Right Down Type Myself a Letter?

Last week, the Huffington Post reported that 41 U.S. states have begun to adopt the Common Core State Standards for English which among other things doesn't require any kind of cursive training for grade schoolers anymore.

So instead of practicing not to have any letters floating above the line or dipping below it, the line doesn't even exist anymore. Apparently learning to write is no longer important because all can type...how sad is that?

Just the other day, in my journalism class, the professor asked the class for all of us to get out a piece of paper and a pen to start writing our latest blog post. Some students boisterously complained, some tried to fake their disdain, and some even resorted to getting out their smart phones to log onto the website and type with their itsy bitsy keyboards. You'd think he asked us to drive a horse and buggy from Springfield to Columbus or use an outhouse instead of our trusty indoor plumbing.

In this age of texts, 140 character messages, and emoticons, even something type-written on the type writer looks downright romantic. Instead of even writing notes to remember to take out the trash or pick up a gallon of milk, we text someone. We wonder why we're continuing to dip lower and lower every year to the world's children in reading comprehension and language scores; you're never asked to write anything. Even most standardized tests are being completed online. Is it laziness on the part of teachers who don't want to try to decipher if that's a p or a q? Do we just expect in the ever-evolving internet age that we shouldn't be expected to learn how to do "old-fashioned" things like writing? I feel like an analog guy living in a digital world. It's a bad moon rising, and I hope for the sake of the world, we learn that sometimes newer isn't always better.

Just Keeps Running and Running

Early into his presidency, critics regularly cited President Obama saying "he's spending too much time campaigning and not enough time governing."

That's Wittenberg in a nutshell.

When you come to Witt as a perspective student, you're given the grand presentation. Everything you'll ever need to want and even ever consider is presented to you by a smiling, self-assured student. After the tour, if you were told afterward that they were actually miserable and really hated Witt, you simply wouldn't believe them.

But once you get here, and you start to live the combination of the life they want for yourself and the life that the school has set out for you (and they have your deposit), you begin to feel that once they've hooked you, they can let you float around and figure things out for yourself. The continually surprising and inventive menu in the CDR or Post is gone in favor of the same over-cooked chicken, rice, and vegetable, bad pizza, and dry desserts.

The supposed community of closeness and togetherness is actually a catty group of snotty brats reenacting scenes from "Heathers," "Clueless," "Mean Girls," "Bring It On," and "Easy A."

To say that Springfield and campus have this litany of exciting and worthwhile events for everyone and anyone is simply not true.

Frankly, even the spaces that are available aren't for the right times or long enough. The "amazing" weight room and fitness center is always full and only open until 10. The library's only open until midnight!! Sorry this is becoming a rant, and I'm just saying that I occasionally feel like I've been sold a batch of goods that were never good to begin with.

This campus wants to make sure we get you into the door because they need your money more than the federal government does. Glad we all bought in.

Brown Paper Packages Tided Up with String: My Favorite Things about Wittenberg

Anytime someone suggests I have to name my favorite things, the familiar tune of "My Favorite Things" from "The Sound of Music." I'm a gay man with a taste for musical theater; it was inevitable.

But in this particular case, when I was asked to name my favorite things about Wittenberg, I didn't immediately think of cream colored ponies or crisp apple strudel, or doorbells, or sleigh bells or anything like it. My favorite parts of Wittenberg are far more abstract things that can't be held in the hands but rather things held in them mind.

My favorite thing about Wittenberg is its continued idealism. I may be a hardened and surly cynic, but I thoroughly appreciate it when there is still some groups of people that assume the best and brightest out of everyone and everything.

Wittenberg has people like those who faculty in the English department that give second, third and fourth chances. They genuinely believe in the people that they are teaching; they want the best for them. Wittenberg is a place that despite all of their best efforts believes in the common good of every student. They don't want to think that we can be racists or bigots. They still think that everybody can determine their future paths for themselves, and they think the current services around are the best available.

Maybe I'm mistaking idealism for naivete? Maybe, in the words of a professor of mine, I'm pumping too much sunshine out of their ass. Maybe I have my own glimmer of idealism that I didn't know I had. I think Wittenberg gave it to me. There's always so much talk about the "Bubble" and how much we don't know what's going on in the outside world, but the unwavering amount of integrity that this school tries to instill in us is certainly my favorite thing.

So, apparently this post is going to end up being a lot like The Sound of Music, hopelessly optimistic, old-fashioned, and something that's easily told in just a few short words. And that brings us back to do.

Journey to the Dark Side.

Over the years, we all have those moments when we feel we've done something bad. I don't mean in a dirty, immediately feel like confession kind of moment, but something you know has now altered either your day-to-day life or something you continue to have lingering sinking feeling.

I had one of those kinds of moments last week. I finally caved on something that I had been adamantly against for years. It went against my better judgment, it blatantly defied some basic things I hold as gospel. I...joined Twitter, and I love it.


I never would have thought that dispersing little 140 character messages into the world for a combination of complete strangers and some friends to read would be a worthwhile or satisfying endeavor. I can muse about my frustration with not being able to find a good job opportunity, a quick review of the my latest film, or even to just find solidarity about whatever feeling I may be having.

Comparatively to Facebook, where only my friends can really give commentary to the things that I put out there into the world, and frankly not all of them are things that my friends find interesting or that are even worth comment. But on Twitter, when I "tweet" (Believe me, I just cringed writing that word), there's a host of people who can respond, react and give commentary right back.

Secondly, I've actually found it can be a good way to promote myself and my writing. Let's say I just saw "True Grit" and I want to make sure I get my opinion out there in the universe as to make sure my opinion is the often read one amongst my now growing list of 75 followers. But then instead of merely leaving it at the 140 characters, I come home and write a fuller, more expansive review and put the blog link onto my feed so people can read the nuance and texture lost in a tweet.

I never thought I'd say this, but I am twitter-holic.

The Other Side of Spring Break

When my spring break begins in a week or two, I know many of my friends are going to be on their way to some of most envious places for any Witt student whose been hanging around the sheets of ice, snow, and weather long enough. Some of them are headed to Daytona Beach, FL, some are headed to sunny Los Angeles the land of Hollywood and the best surf on the main land, and some are headed to the calm and tranquil Virginia Beach for some R&R and the occasional dip in the Atlantic.

But for many, Spring Break isn't the same kind of free-for-all, fun in the sun experience it is for many. For many like me, I'll be packing up my month's worth of laundry and headed back to the enviable traveler's destination of South Bend, IN. For the last few years, the picture above (taken about 50 yards from my buddy's apartment) is what I've been used to. I have to be careful driving, bundled up in all my layers, and trying to avoid the icy patches on the sidewalks.

It's just as well too. Where in other years, I've didn't really have the excuses not to go to a warm place to really get down, I have too many to pick from this year. The real world is steamrolling down the tracks right at me, and I have to build a barrier before it creams me. Applications, portfolios, and the upcoming graduation are coming and barricaded in my house might be the only time it may get done. Weirdly though, many of my friends have already started to plan to bring a book along because they know they have something to work on, or they're going to look at the potential job opportunities in a particular city. The working break has arrived.

The Water Cooler's gone viral

I'm an avid fan of the award show. Yes, in many people's eyes they are overly-long, self gradulating, tedious waste of three hours. But I find them endlessly watchable and always fascinating.

So during last week's Grammy Awards, the celebration of the best in music, I found myself doing more than my usual watching and dvr-ing. I also found myself doing a whole new kind of interaction. I found myself constantly updating my facebook to address my opinions on different performances, clothing choices, and choices awarded.

I was in a mini-facebook war over the opening number featuring some of music's biggest voices as they tried to out-diva each other in a Aretha Franklin tribute. She ruined that song, she shouldn't have sung, etc.

Then as Lady Gaga emerged from her egg, I was commenting on the song versus her attire.

Then Eminem didn't win album of the Year, and there was surely a spike in conversation.

For the last few years, programmers, network executives, and television producers have been increasingly worried and aware that young people (18-34 is the demograhic) are not watching these kinds of large scale event television moments. But I would argue just the opposite. Special event TV has hit a high in terms of viewers over the last few years, and that's entirely because of this current Internet generation.

Instead of merely sitting and watching a show and having something to talk about in the halls or at the water cooler the next day, we talk about it as its happening. That's the kind of thing my mother would argue isn't really possible because she doesn't think multitasking like that is possible, but I think it's become a generational thing.

We've become so inundated with images, sounds, that we've learned to handle so many of them at once. We can text and listen to a conversation, do homework with the TV on in the background, and tweet and watch TV. Network programmers, don't fret, we're still watching your shows, we're just dealing with in a different kind of way.

Senior Athletes and how I feel like I'm turning into Barbra Walters

The latest story I'm working on for the bi-weekly stories is something that arrived very organically. I remembered of the many conversations my colleague Brian Alspaugh and I had on our mighty, long walk up to Wrigleyville on our first day in Chicago for the summer journalism symposium.

We were talking about what he was going to do when his year was over, when football was over, what do after graduation, how will you deal with being done etc.

It is these kind of conversations that led me to really think how special, exciting, and interesting the experience of being a college athlete and especially the ones at Wittenberg. I emailed 20+ senior athletes who are now finished with their seasons so I can ask about what makes them tick, how's it feel to be done, and what are the things they enjoy doing now that they're finished etc.

I've already conducted three interviews and have three more planned for today, and four this weekend. I've been recording them all on my FlipCam, more for the sound than the actual images. The responses have been so well versed, so beautifully articulated in a shocking and wonderful way. For some of these people, it's literally only been days since their career end; I love that they've been able to be so open and frank.

I'm definitely opening with an anecdotal lead and I have more than a few to pick from.

Any questions you think I should ask?

My Semester Story

For my semester-long story, I'm exploring the fact that there is serious lack of handicap accessibility on campus.
For years I've looked at this beautiful campus with the rolling hills, historical buildings, and attitude of trying to market itself as the perfect school for so many different kinds of students, that it's glaringly obvious that's not really true.

How is someone supposed to wheel up the hill, live in any hall other than New Hall, or even take classes in many of campus's academic buildings.

I'm looking into the actual specifics of where the laws the are supposed to be enacted throughout here at Wittenberg and who is in charge of enforcing them.

I'm also going to talk to John Paulsen the head of physical plant and see what can be done feasibly and realistically.

I'm also talking to Dave Wishart, a economics professor who is himself handicap. I want to know about his experience. Does he teach in Synod because it's one of the only accessible places?

I'm also going to talk to Admissions. Discuss with them the different counselors and see if they've seen problem with either students or parents who are handicapped. Do they think the different aspects of campus are preventing a whole new enclave of potential students by not having ramps or elevators.

As Cold As Ice

Welcome to Wittenberg! Where the ice and snow are several inches deep and there isn't a lick of salt in large supply.

The university went through a somewhat precarious and dangerous situation last week when what's been dubbed "the national winter storm" hit the friendly confines of our campus like 2x4 to the face.

With the several inches of ice, impassible sidewalks, continuing snow and a lack of salt available to combat the problem, the administration did exactly what they knew they had to do. They canceled school, and not just for one day, not two, but three whole days.

Yes, I know and understand that canceling classes and closing the university is not a decision to be made lightly, and I can't imagine being the individuals in charge of that decision, but how weird did it feel that the higher ups actually were paying attention to what was going on on campus?

I can guarantee there was a professor or two who would have rathered their students trudged, slipped, and fell instead of changing his or her precious syllabus, but they realized there was a problem and instead of just assuming we as the student body would just have to deal, they did the right thing, and canceled class.

This is a pretty particular situation though. According to Marsha Pace, director of the Student Center's Mail Room and Service Center this is certainly a new trend.

"I've worked here for over thirty years. We've never been closed two days in a row, let alone three," said Pace.

Thankfully with some salt down and the groundskeepers working their butts off to make sure we don't all break an ankle, school is back and running again.

Now about all that work missed while we were off...

Super Bowl XLV- An exercise in Over-the-Top Entertainment

The Green Bay Packers are bringing the Lombardi trophy back to the snow-covered fields of Wisconsin (their 4th win and first win since the departure of biggest known fan of his cellphone camera, Brett Favre).

But coming into Super Bowl XLV, with my hometown Indianapolis Colts already out and my devotion to other springtime sporting events still to come (March Madness), I decided to focus this year on every aspect of the game that wasn't the game.

The Fox News Corporation decided that during the pre-game festivities (that started at noon by the way), they should play host to a weird and quietly momentous little summit of sorts. President Obama and king of spin Bill O'Reilly sat down for an otherwise pretty dull interview. The interview did have a slight uptick though, when at one point at one point that O'Reilly asked quite directly, "Does it bother you that so many people hate you?"

Then there was the actual pre-game events including Christina Aguilera flubbing the lyrics to the National Anthem. In true fashion the Twitter world went crazy with her misspoken lyrics, and it didn't take long for Aguilera to release a statement hoping the world didn't view her as unpatriotic.



The commercials were...well actually somewhat boring. So many of them had this elaborate set-up and unfortunately the money shot was not really worth it. Weirdly my favorite ones involved physical site gags like this one early in the telecast.



Unfortunately, I would have preferred that Doritos stuck to their guns and tried to air this spot because of its sheer audacity. They shelved it weeks before, for obvious reasons, and well went with some other stuff instead.



The much-publicized halftime extravaganza featuring every soccer mom's favorite rap stars the Black Eyed Peas was...middling at best. Propelled by the power and ubiquity of their party jams including "I Got a Feeling," "Boom Boom Pow," and "Let's Get It Started," the Peas launched into a seemingly endless set featuring LCD light shows, dancers by the truckload, and extra-special guests including former Guns 'N Roses guitarist Slash and R&B superstar Usher who did his best "I'm trying to be Michael Jackson" impression. The multiple sound glitches and just general left me thinking I'll take some aging rock god any day of the week. Were Bon Jovi unavailable? I included it below.



Finally the post-Super Bowl TV spot went to the biggest love-it-or-hate-it show in recent memory. I think it's because it's a musical, so many people don't like musicals. The show's producers certainly added some bang for their buck including scantily clad cheerleaders, a football game of their own, and a highly-publicized performance of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" that lived up to the hype. I don't know if the show won any new fans but it certainly held its ground.



The Super Bowl for years has tried to be the ultimate entertainment event for all generations, races, genders, and once again for Super Bowl XLV they tried with mixed results to do just that.

College Entertainment Vacuum

I'm a fan of entertainment. Well...that might be the understatement of the year. I'm a huge fan of it. Whether it's books, music, television, fashion, and especially film; it's what I live for.

That's been an interesting little problem in the college setting though. No, with my wireless internet, there's obviously not exactly a shortage of ways to get my media on campus.

But the bigger problem is that even though I'm one of its most ardent fans, I find it difficult to see everything, and in some days or weeks, anything. I'm not alone in that fact. I probably work hardest to get my weekly fix of that drug I care about most, but it becomes frustrating when no one else has. People have papers, tests, reading, and extracurricular to worry about; all of which are perfectly valid, not many have time to see the latest new movie every week, or read that fascinating article for leisure.

So when some piece of arcane pop culture arrives in the face of college students they rush to it like a fledgling calf to the teet. When a movie like "The Hangover" or a something like TV's "Glee" or a song like "Dynamite" by Taio Cruz hit the college vacuum it lingers for what seems like, to this purveyor of those things new and fresh, like old news. I can't force everyone to read up on what's going on, so I guess I have to suck it up and just accept it.

Ahh the frustration.

Interviewing and Trying not to Sound Like A Racist

While I was interviewing this story on the decision of SAGE to change their Read-a-thon book from "Huck Finn" to "Catch-22," I found an interesting little trend beginning to take shape. With each interview, at one point or another, the interviewee wanted to clarify their language or began to become more thoughtful with their speech.

Now as a pretty veteran interviewer when it comes to the college campus, when the interview subject becoming more thoughtful or careful when they speak is nothing new. But in this case, when discussing race, there's a certain caution approached as to make sure that the comments, no matter how valid, aren't misconstrued as "racist" or "misinformed."

Now in a journalist's ideal world, people would be free to speak and say whatever they wanted and I'd get the best quotes possible. But...unfortunately we don't. Even when they're defending their choice and speaking out against potentially damaging material like "Huck Finn"'s uses of the n-word. There's a serious block when it comes to discussing things that aren't as PC as we want. I cherish a day when we can discern the difference between the vitriol of hate speech and the discussing the potentially sticky elements of a work of literature and not have to quaver in our boots about it.

(Don't Worry) If There's a Hell Below, We're All Going to Go

Photo from google.com

"GSA Float Burned on Eve of Homecoming Parade"

"Explicit lyrics put Post-It performance in the spotlight"

"Senate combats Campus Speech after reports of racist language"

These are headlines that over the course of the last three years have graced the front page of The Torch, Wittenberg's student-run newspaper. Exhaustive research, countless interviews, and campus reaction both good and bad have went into these pieces. What I thought then as both the writer and/or editor in all of those aforementioned cases and as I look back in reflection is that these little newspaper stories portray a fairly accurate picture of where this campus stands in terms of relations to minorities as well as tolerance for those who are different than them.

In every one of those cases though, the uproar or direct action that I assumed would follow their release to public was met with mottled resentment from the Wittenberg community for trying to institute real social change in their behavior and actions, and an apathy from an administration that conveyed either a "we don't care about this problem" attitude or an out-of-touch one that clearly shows "We don't really know what you're talking about."

So after the deplorable and continually upsetting news of the now-infamous piece of paper that graced the front message board of a student's dorm room on Martin Luther King Day, I assumed we'd get the same banally pathetic attempts to make sure we know the administration cares about the problems of minorities and suspect classes. And what a shock, we did. The president wrote an earnest if not particularly beige letter explaining his dismay at the fact that campus still isn't any better...

But what came next was even more surprising and ultimately tons more depressing. The campus collectively organized a protest/prayer service thing during Thursday's chapel hour that allowed the campus to grieve for the loss of their once pristine image. Everybody was invited, urged, and even commanded in some cases to come together, link arms, and basically sing "We Shall Overcome."

I ultimately looked at the event and said, to put it bluntly, What a crock of shit! It's as if the campus is McDonald's and they woke up, looked outside, and exclaimed "Oh my God!!! There's all these other places selling burgers. What are we going to do!!!" It was in such an effort to market itself as the way to fix these problems; a way for campus to finally change its bigoted ways.

Yes, I think it was, from what I heard, incredibly moving that those who were most affected, angry, and frustrated by the the goings-ons did what they could and were actually given a forum to express their distaste, but why is this the first time? Why didn't we come together and show how much we didn't tolerate all of those other past indiscretions that have addled this campus for years. I find it so ironic that every person that sent me an email urging me to go to the prayer service is a person or a group of people that at every opportunity during those past events/debacles turned a blind eye refusing to denounce the problem directly.

They are the same people that applauded the actions of student senate members who sat idly by and watched as a student got up on stage and rapped a song about black women with excruciating detail. These are the people that helped write that pathetic and despicable email containing the most comical catch-phrase since "Where's the beef": "We Are Above"

This "HOLY CRAP WE FIGURED IT OUT SUMMIT" is not a final solution as it's already being treated in some circles of my friends and fellow students; it's a first step. In a week or two the whole event is no better than a silly poster campaign or a campus-wide email unless change is actually happening or pushed forward. The first step to dealing with a problem is acknowledging the existence of said problem. Thank my deity of choice, we at leastdid that. Otherwise the whole thing's another coat of pretty white primer to hide the dirty things written on bathroom stalls; you can still see the wounds they're just not as apparent to the naked eye. Let's hope this works, or else who wants to even fathom how bad this could really get.

Hugs for Drugs?

Wittenberg, one of the self-proclaimed Ivy League school of the Midwest, has a dirty little secret that is as well kept as our famous secret societies. We party, and when we want to we party pretty hard.
Now I know that it's not exactly earth-shattering news; college students party, drink, and give into their baser animal instincts, but it comes to drugs (you know those little pills, plants, and powders Nancy Reagan told you to "Just Say No" to, there is seemingly a different mentality. Well at least, not all drugs. Pot has become such a generational thing. Most of my colleagues and cohorts have at least tried it, or do it quite often. But the act of smoking it is not looked at any differently compared to someone grabbing a cigarette. I know more people that are seemingly bothered by a habitual tobacco smoker compared to the occasional bong hit. It's such a funny thing though. If our parents, who smoked enough grass to compare with the heights of Haight Ashbury, but now in their middle-aged normalcy, knew what we did, we'd get the standard, "Drugs are bad don't do them" speech.
When it comes to anything harder: pharmaceuticals, coke, heroin etc, there seems to be a stigma attached. Now I've been told by so many people that so many students are big fans of the nose candy, but I haven't really encountered so many of them myself. That doesn't mean those drugs are floating around the party circuit being popped like Jujubes, but people seem to be less willing to own up to it. Maybe it's their perceived danger comparatively to marijuana, or maybe the admittance that they're willing to spend a ton more money on a gram of coke instead of an ounce of pot. Who knows.