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(05/18/99 9:00am)
Fearing that this past weekend might be my last "big" weekend at Dartmouth due to the Social and Residential Initiative, I wanted to write a scathing column that mocked the Trustees and their illogical decisions while defending the Greek system that I wholeheartedly support. But I was too busy getting sloshed and having fun. And that's the way it should be.
(04/30/99 9:00am)
When I look around Dartmouth College, I don't see the ivy-covered bastion of tradition for which we were once known and revered. I see a campus in motion, a campus of change -- for better or for worse. And with change comes the uprooting of tradition and history, something that must always be treated delicately, like a hyperactive kid with a pair of scissors. Recently, I learned that high-ranking college officials were thinking of ending the presence of an integral, influential, powerful and longstanding campus institution: the Student Assembly.
(04/28/99 9:00am)
The world is becoming an increasingly tough place to live in. The recent shootings in the Colorado high school are just another example of the alarming trend of kids not being able to take a joke.
(04/20/99 9:00am)
Part of being the intrepid, Clark-Kent- turned-Superman reporter that I am is journalistic integrity and an insatiable thirst for knowledge and truth -- a "nose for news" if you will. But the other, more intangible and much larger part, is luck. Pure luck -- and the ability to make stuff up.
(04/16/99 9:00am)
Back in the day when Howard Stern wasn't a nationally-broadcast household name, back when he could only be heard on New York area radio, before the television shows, movies, books -- even before his endorsements for Snapple helped make it the success it is today -- people hated him.
(02/24/99 11:00am)
I'm a Red Sox fan. Always have been, always will be.
(02/03/99 11:00am)
Part of being mature and grown-up means being able to recognize your mistake and admit when you are wrong. The other part is to stop wearing Velcro shoes. If my own life experiences haven't taught me this, the countless staged press-conferences with the likes of George Michael, Marv Albert, Marion Barry, Latrell Spreewell, and Bob Livingston have shown me that the only true way to seek forgiveness is by shedding some tears on national TV. Since I can't really do that, I'll do the next best thing and write a column.
(01/15/99 11:00am)
When I was younger, any time I went to a family gathering or banquet with buffet-style food my father would walk through the buffet line next to me and put on my plate all the food I had passed over. And as much as I protested every time he slopped some feeble-looking mung on my plate and said, "Here, son, try some of your aunt's spinach potato-salad; she worked hard on it," I always knew he was doing it for my own good. So even though I cringed with each helping of stewed-cabbage or monkey bread piled on my plate, deep down I realized that my father was only trying to help open my eyes and let me experience a wider variety of things.
(11/20/98 11:00am)
People here are angry. But that's nothing new. People everywhere are angry, and it's usually for more or less the same reason. Things get said and done that are hurtful, either intentionally or not. That's why this is Earth, not Eden.
(11/04/98 11:00am)
I have the routine down pretty well now. I wake up and fall out of bed at two in the afternoon, throw on some sandals, a coat and my hat and brave the outside world just long enough to slip into the Hop. I always buy the same thing, too: cranberry juice and banana bread, more for their ability to combat a hangover than for their taste and more for their convenience than either.
(10/30/98 11:00am)
I don't really like soda or pop or soda pop or fizz or whatever it's called. I prefer my carbonated beverages to have a little more hop in them (and barley, and yeast). But some people are passionate about their Pepsi and choleric about their Coke, and I respect that.
(10/23/98 9:00am)
If, for some inexplicable reason, I was held at gunpoint and ordered to name the one person from late 1980s network television that I admired most, I would say Doogie Howser. My first thought would probably be, "Why is the guy with the gun asking me this?" but my second thought would definitely be about everyone's favorite teenage doctor.
(10/20/98 9:00am)
I was up late last night. I was trying to write a paper on Joyce's "Dubliners" and I needed just the right synonym for "desolation." Unfortunately, I found it.
(10/13/98 9:00am)
In the interest of meeting new people and networking, I decided to head to Boston this weekend. Actually, it was more in the interest of seeing a city whose brightest lights aren't flashing on the top of a Safety and Security car. Or it was in the interest of going to a place where "public transportation" means something more than walking across the Green in a big 'shmob. In all honesty, though, my main reason for going to Boston was to visit my longtime friend, Colin, a freshman at Boston College. That and to beat up some Harvard kids.
(10/08/98 9:00am)
It would have been spectacular. It would have been the ultimate icing on the greatest of cakes. Both the Red Sox and Cubs were eliminated from the play-offs over the weekend. And while the flag will not fly at half-mast over the Green, something wonderful has died.
(10/02/98 9:00am)
The past few weeks have caused me to make more adjustments than Red Sox shortstop Nomar Garciappara does between pitches. Ever since I arrived on campus, I've been engulfed in a sea of new faces and new experiences and, I will admit, there have been times when I thought I might drown.