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Wes Morrow, Sports Editor

May 9, 2012

I’d like to observe a moment of silence in this column. I know I won’t be there to enforce it, but it’s very important that you just do what I say, because you should just blindly follow every direction I provide.


That way, when I start asking you to do weird things, like smear toothpaste in your hair and stand on the street corner heckling students about their sex addictions, you won’t even question it.


I imagine that’s sort of how those crazy guys got to be on the street corner holding signs and angrily telling me about how my masturbating addiction is destroying society.


I can assure you, it’s not.


I had to table in the SURC the other day. I won’t get into why right now, except to say it wasn’t anything weird, I swear.


When I was standing there with my co-worker, manning that little two by six foot pulpit, I think I got a glimpse of what it feels like to be the crazy guy on the street corner.


Never before have I realized how badly people loathe someone who’s trying to hand them something.


It doesn’t even matter what it is you’re trying to hand them. You could say, “Sir, would you like a free puppy?” And people would look at you like you’re running some sick puppy drug trafficking operation.


It’s just a free puppy. Damn. I didn’t put any drugs inside it, I promise.


Standing behind that table made me feel like I was a member of the untouchable caste in India.


I just don’t understand. I thought college kids loved free stuff. Apparently they aren’t fans of free things that come with even the slightest of attachments.


If I put up a sign outside the SURC saying “Free Pizza,” I would be surrounded by kids in minutes. I’d be like a pile of French fries surrounded by seagulls dressed in affliction T-shirts and carrying long boards.


But if I were to put up another sign saying “Free Pizza, all you have to do is take this flyer and read it,” at least half the people wouldn’t even stop.


It’s not like reading a flyer is going to kill you, unless you aren’t watching where you’re walking and you fall into a manhole. Then I guess it might kill you, but that wouldn’t be the flyer’s fault. Unless it told you not to watch where you were walking, but why would a flyer say that? Quit trying to blame your death on the flyer.


My point is, I don’t have a communicable disease. You don’t have to walk with a 30-foot berth of my table.


If my sign said, “Free bird flu,” then I would understand your concern. I would probably avoid taking a flyer from that table as well.


I didn’t realize it until just now, but this column itself is a kind of tabling.


I sit here, shouting incoherently at you as your eyes pass between pages with actual news on them, and you shake your head, roll your eyes and throw my advice in the nearest garbage can. But guess what, it works, because here you are.


So just remember, when you wake up on a street corner dressed in an old bathrobe preaching manifest destiny at passers-by, I warned you. My advice may take you down some interesting roads, but it hopefully won’t be anything that odd.


Over the next few weeks I’m going to start acting more and more like the crazy guy on the street corner, yelling thoughts and advice at random passerby.


I only have three issues left before I graduate. That means I only have three columns left. Typically, seniors each write a senior send-off column where they say good-bye and leave sage advice.


There are a few people graduating this year, so I’m going to get the jump on them and start two weeks early. I’ll still write a senior farewell, but I’ve got simply too much stuff to fit in one packed opinion page.


If, though, I completely space and forget to write you any advice for next week, forgive me. The hard part is remembering all the things I wanted to say two months ago when I started thinking about graduation.


I just remembered why I wanted to observe a moment of silence. This has been a bad couple weeks for me. First I lost MCA. Now I’m forced to mourn the passing of Maurice Sendak.


All I can say is, MCA really got the short end of the stick, because Sendak at least lived long enough to see the new Avengers movie.

Don’t fear the free stuff!

 

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