Ah, the Olympics. A time for all the nations of the world to come together in good spirited competition. A chance to showcase our best athletes and hopefully bring home the gold. And also, a chance for my friends and I to bond together in the lounge, “doing homework” amidst the background noise of the seemingly never-ending stream of events from Sydney to the fourth floor Memorial lounge. Events like… soccer, foozball, and grand championship lawn mowing. Well, okay maybe not some of those. But with all the events, who can keep track?
Yesterday I watched this weird bike race that looked like it took place inside of a cereal bowl, the walls were so slanted. And the guys biking wore these (warning: oncoming sarcasm) really neat spandex body suits and their feet were strapped into what looked like mini-straight jackets to the pedals. Good thing they practice a lot so they don’t tip over or something. I don’t see them getting up on their own like that.
So while they strap their feet into the pedals their trainer (or whoever that guy is) acts as a human kickstand, holding the bike up. And then comes the game face. The French guy looked like an oxygen-starved fish under approximately 42 G’s. I think he expended more energy gettin’ his game on with that face than he did through the rest of the race. The race itself was hard-core weird. They went so slow at first and I didn’t see a real finish line. They just passed each other twice and stopped. All that training for two laps around a cereal bowl and a fish face. Hey, whatever gets you the gold.
But we didn’t tune into NBC at 7:00 on the dot for that. Nor for the swimming, although that was quite enjoyable. May I extend a heartfelt curse to whoever invented those stupid performance enhancing body suits. I’d settle for the swimmers swimming that much slower to have the money spent on more underwater cameras instead. But I digress. No, the real reason we tuned in was the men’s gymnastics. Sounds girly, you say. Well, perhaps, especially when they’re doing splits and flitting about on the floor exercise, waving their hands to and fro.
But look beyond that… in the distance lies…the rings. The rings are a wonderful sport for the spectators both here and in Sydney. Although probably more so for us… yahoo for strategically placed cameras.) I mean, I’m sure it’s great for the athletes too, and fulfilling to be able to excel at that event. As soon as the rings were shown on the screen, the room was instantly silenced in respect for this awe-inspiring event showcasing male muscle- er- raw gymnastic talent.
The Olympics is a time for the world to unite in goodwill and humanitarian stuff. Besides, the winter Olympics aren’t for two whole years, and if I thought the new swimwear was bad, the skiiers’ outfits will be nothing but disappointment. So until then, may the spirit of the Olympics be present in all of us. And maybe since I wrote about mens’ gymnastics, the Torch staff will rustle up a picture of Alexei Nemov on the rings to go with this article. Here’s hoping.
Friday, September 29, 2000
Friday, September 15, 2000
Been Hangin' Around This Town...
Let’s face it: if you’re reading this edition of the Torch, chances are the weekend is coming up or already here. Which begs the question, what are your plans? If you’re stuck with no ideas of what’s fun, don’t worry. I have a feeling that it’s kind of like a tradition here at VU, students milling around aimlessly up and down dorm hallways eternally asking whoever is listening for suggestions on what to do that night. And as I’m sure you’ve noticed, the ideas are not flowing freely from their lips.
Downtown Valpo is not really a center of fun and excitement (considering nearly everything closes by 6) and since the close of Hollywood Connection, nearby fun is not exactly readily available. Especially if you’re a freshman without a car. Believe me, I went through that last year, and you may as well sit in your dorm room and hug a book for all the fun you’re gonna find. Unless, that is, you get creative.
Sure, Hollywood Connection is closed. But after braving the traffic and jaywalking across Highway 30, what to your wondering eyes should appear? That’s right, a Wal-Mart, full of aisles and aisles of good fun just waiting to be had. At any time, too, because it’s open 24 hours a day. Ride in a cart pushed by a friend and compare prices, get down and get funky to the hip muzak, or search for that elusive smiley face that bounces around in the commercials, lowering prices like a fiend. Fun abounds.
Or, if Wal-Mart isn’t your idea of a good time (or it is your idea of a good time but you have been banned for riding in the carts, a distinct possibility) try Denny’s. Again, a fine enterprise within walking distance for those of you vehicularly challenged students which is open 24 hours a day for your thrill-seeking tendencies. Try your luck at the stuffed animal crane and win a scary looking stuffed creature worth about six cents for the low, low, bargain price of one or ten bucks, depending on your reflexes. Order a Big Texan Skillet in a big Texan accent. (The servers really get a kick out of that one.) Or, just kick back and watch the people who frequent this restaurant. Count the mullets. If you don’t know what a mullet is, go to Denny’s to learn.
The possibilities are endless. Denny’s and Wal-Mart are the two main attractions. And don’t be fooled into thinking you get into some secret members-only fun club if you do have a car. Having a car adds a drive-in movie theater and Innman’s bowling to your repertoire of quasi-nearby fun-to-be-had. Speaking from personal experience, last weekend I was involved in a quest for fun, and we ended up driving along dark country roads for I don’t know how long until we gave up for fear that our eyes would never adjust to the bright lights of campus again and turned back. We ended up watching a movie and then a series of haircare infomercials starring some guy named ‘Snacky’. Hey, some nights you gotta work for the fun and some nights it jumps up and latches onto your face. Go Valpo!
Downtown Valpo is not really a center of fun and excitement (considering nearly everything closes by 6) and since the close of Hollywood Connection, nearby fun is not exactly readily available. Especially if you’re a freshman without a car. Believe me, I went through that last year, and you may as well sit in your dorm room and hug a book for all the fun you’re gonna find. Unless, that is, you get creative.
Sure, Hollywood Connection is closed. But after braving the traffic and jaywalking across Highway 30, what to your wondering eyes should appear? That’s right, a Wal-Mart, full of aisles and aisles of good fun just waiting to be had. At any time, too, because it’s open 24 hours a day. Ride in a cart pushed by a friend and compare prices, get down and get funky to the hip muzak, or search for that elusive smiley face that bounces around in the commercials, lowering prices like a fiend. Fun abounds.
Or, if Wal-Mart isn’t your idea of a good time (or it is your idea of a good time but you have been banned for riding in the carts, a distinct possibility) try Denny’s. Again, a fine enterprise within walking distance for those of you vehicularly challenged students which is open 24 hours a day for your thrill-seeking tendencies. Try your luck at the stuffed animal crane and win a scary looking stuffed creature worth about six cents for the low, low, bargain price of one or ten bucks, depending on your reflexes. Order a Big Texan Skillet in a big Texan accent. (The servers really get a kick out of that one.) Or, just kick back and watch the people who frequent this restaurant. Count the mullets. If you don’t know what a mullet is, go to Denny’s to learn.
The possibilities are endless. Denny’s and Wal-Mart are the two main attractions. And don’t be fooled into thinking you get into some secret members-only fun club if you do have a car. Having a car adds a drive-in movie theater and Innman’s bowling to your repertoire of quasi-nearby fun-to-be-had. Speaking from personal experience, last weekend I was involved in a quest for fun, and we ended up driving along dark country roads for I don’t know how long until we gave up for fear that our eyes would never adjust to the bright lights of campus again and turned back. We ended up watching a movie and then a series of haircare infomercials starring some guy named ‘Snacky’. Hey, some nights you gotta work for the fun and some nights it jumps up and latches onto your face. Go Valpo!
Friday, September 08, 2000
Sleep is for the Weak
I didn’t get up before noon one day all summer. It was great. And due to circumstances beyond my control, I was unable to acquire a job for those three blissful months. So I would go to sleep to the peaceful humming of the off-air patterns of the television and wake up to the pleasant sound of my mother telling me quite rationally that if I didn’t get up of my own volition, she would be more than happy to assist me with a Supersoaker.
Apparently, this sleep pattern was acceptable only to me and maybe a few nomadic polar bears on the southern-most tip of Greenland. But not, however, to my mother. She’s one of those up-and-at-‘em, let’s-get-stuff-done-before-noon type. I assume, anyway. I’ve never been up early enough to see it. But anyway, she’s the antithesis of me and everything I stand for, at least in regards to sleep habits. So she got a real kick out of the fact that I have two 8:00 am classes. Great, right? Get my classes done early in the day so I have time later on for my… homework. Or something.
But I digress. So I figured I’d do the cold turkey approach to getting on a so-called “normal” sleep pattern: get up early one morning, no matter how painful, survive the day, and then go to sleep at a “normal” hour. Right. Because that works. Turns out I had been saving up sleep like a camel and I wasn’t tired at a normal time. I tried this for a couple days, then gave up. I decided that if I just waited until I got to school and let my classes whip me into normal hours. Sounds reasonable. In theory, anyway.
Unfortunately, it backfired, and I have turned into a bedtime pansy. I’m tired around eleven and any homework I try to do after then just sits on the table. And the mornings are no better. Ever wake up before your brain starts fully functioning? I do. It’s really fun when I wake up for some reason or another (perhaps my alarm is going off, perhaps outside the garbage truck sounds like it is mutilating large mammals) and I look at my clock. And I can’t figure out what the numbers mean to save my life. I don’t know what those funny shaped glowing figures are or what they mean in relation to my having to stumble to class. Eventually I can deduce that I either have to get up (i.e., it’s 15 minutes before my class) or I can sleep for a while longer (i.e., it’s 20 minutes before my class).
After living both ends of the spectrum, I’ve got to side with my old sleep pattern. No confusing clocks and no classes looming in the distant morning. Maybe I can change my major to wildlife of Greenland and study abroad there. Polar Bear Sleep Habits 101 at 2:00 p.m. Now that’s my kind of class.
Apparently, this sleep pattern was acceptable only to me and maybe a few nomadic polar bears on the southern-most tip of Greenland. But not, however, to my mother. She’s one of those up-and-at-‘em, let’s-get-stuff-done-before-noon type. I assume, anyway. I’ve never been up early enough to see it. But anyway, she’s the antithesis of me and everything I stand for, at least in regards to sleep habits. So she got a real kick out of the fact that I have two 8:00 am classes. Great, right? Get my classes done early in the day so I have time later on for my… homework. Or something.
But I digress. So I figured I’d do the cold turkey approach to getting on a so-called “normal” sleep pattern: get up early one morning, no matter how painful, survive the day, and then go to sleep at a “normal” hour. Right. Because that works. Turns out I had been saving up sleep like a camel and I wasn’t tired at a normal time. I tried this for a couple days, then gave up. I decided that if I just waited until I got to school and let my classes whip me into normal hours. Sounds reasonable. In theory, anyway.
Unfortunately, it backfired, and I have turned into a bedtime pansy. I’m tired around eleven and any homework I try to do after then just sits on the table. And the mornings are no better. Ever wake up before your brain starts fully functioning? I do. It’s really fun when I wake up for some reason or another (perhaps my alarm is going off, perhaps outside the garbage truck sounds like it is mutilating large mammals) and I look at my clock. And I can’t figure out what the numbers mean to save my life. I don’t know what those funny shaped glowing figures are or what they mean in relation to my having to stumble to class. Eventually I can deduce that I either have to get up (i.e., it’s 15 minutes before my class) or I can sleep for a while longer (i.e., it’s 20 minutes before my class).
After living both ends of the spectrum, I’ve got to side with my old sleep pattern. No confusing clocks and no classes looming in the distant morning. Maybe I can change my major to wildlife of Greenland and study abroad there. Polar Bear Sleep Habits 101 at 2:00 p.m. Now that’s my kind of class.
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