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Outgoing editor reveals all, demands an entire page to himself by Todd Nienkerk, Editor-in-Chief
 Well, this is it. The long goodbye. Graduation.
I've learned many things during my five years at the University. Big things, important things — things that would make your eyes bleed and tongue swell. Things that would raze cities, tumble mountains and forever alter the course of human history.
But I'm not going to tell you what those are. Instead, I present to you The Eight Lessons of College:
1) Coffee, coffee, coffee! In college, it's sure fun to talk about coffee. And go to coffee places. And say things like, "Boy, I need some coffee." Coffee's a great way to feel older and more important than you really are!
2) Get a car. Americans agree: anybody who doesn't have a car may as well be dead. It's the 21 Century ferchrissakes! How do you expect to drive if you don't have a car? Are you gonna walk to the car wash? Jog to the Starbucks drive-thru? How do you expect to eat if you can't pull up for some classy Chili's To Go or Outback Steakhouse Curbside Take-Away? It's "No Rules, Just Right? To Your Car," not that grease-stained box you drew three wheels on and dubbed "The RAWKET."
3) Pick up a drug habit and nurture it lovingly. Sure, your health may suffer, but your art will prosper! But take care to find the drug that's right for you. If you're a socially conscious musician, heroin is right up your alley. If painting's your thing, expand your awareness by dabbling in the classic psychedelics: LSD, psilocybin, and mescaline. But if you want to be a writer, listen closely.
First, get a baby bottle with a rubber nipple and fill it with Wild Turkey. Then, grind 300mg Oxy IR — not that extended release shit — and 10mg Adderall into a powder. Next, crack open two 25mg capsules of diphenhydramine HCl, not — do you hear me? — not that chlorpheniramine bullshit. Dude, pay attention. It's getting important. Okay, so you crack open those diphens and dump 'em into the mix. Then, mix it with four tablespoons of Equate brand Children's Allergy Elixir, not the name-brand Benadryl, okay? Add 1,000mg orange-flavored vitamin C supplements, pop the rubber nipple back on and shake it up.
Now you got some tasty fuckin' writer juice! Not to mention a sweet buzz.
4) Appearance means nothing. The workaday world has a saying: "Dress for the job you want, not the job you have." According to this axiom, most college men aspire to join the pucker-mouthed ranks of glistening Abercrombie and Fitch models, and the women are vying for top positions in the burgeoning Breast Display industry. Personally, I think that's bullshit. I've been dressing like a singing cowboy for three years, and I still spend my nine-to-fives sucking quarters out of parking meters and drain pipes for the City. With my mouth.
5—7) Something about internships, but I forgot.
8) Save your money. If you invested only $1,000 each month for the next 400 years, you'd have, like, a trillion dollars. That's over 774 billion Euros!
Seriously, though, saving money in college is easy. Campus-area thrift stores abound; with as little as $60, you can buy a used shirt. And when you're really strapped for cash, just donate some semen. (Nevermind the crushing guilt of generations of unknown progeny who could look you up years from now demanding to know how you spent the $150 that brought them into the world.) Easy money!
College is an amazing experience. Where else do the nation's best and brightest gather for a free exchange of ideas in the pursuit of knowledge and human betterment — and drink lots and lots of booze? Where else can the intellectual elite brag about how shitfaced they got last night? And where else can I blithely mock a crippling social ill?
But my days are numbered. Come May 21, I'll be pulled from UT's warm, safe womb into the blinding cold of Reality. They'll come for you, too ? the cold forceps of Responsibility gripping your soft, misshapen skull and yanking into the daylight like a hackneyed metaphor.
College can be tough, but remember this: The daily grind of exams, projects, and papers pales in comparison to the crushing inevitability of the Real World. Of course, you don't know what that means yet, but you will.
Oh, you will. |
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The obligatory 'goodbye' column
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In keeping with my raging egomania, I'd like to thank some of the many people who've touched my life.
"Great," you're thinking. "Another boring going-away filled with in-jokes." You're right. But hang in there. I'll make it worth your while — I promise.
The Travesty staff ('00—'05): I am so, so lucky to work with such incredibly witty, talented, and devoted people. You're my coworkers, confidants and friends. I hope I've returned even a fraction of the insight and fulfillment you've given me.
Official Publications: My very first cubicle! Compound modifiers and the en-dash, on-hyphen-line, and CRIN versus CMB3 — I treasure our little talks.
The Liberal Arts Dean's Office (especially Beverly, Bobby, Chris, Christa, Cindy, Emily, Jay, Jesse, Kathy F., Michelle B., Michelle S., Rachel, Robin, and Susan): Thanks for making the most ridiculously easy and overpaid student job on campus also the most fun.
Julie and Joey: You two deserve special mention — you're like family. Joey, thanks for letting me borrow your furniture. Julie, congratulations on buying your very own house! You're the shit.
Dr. Roberts: Thanks for treating me like an equal. And the pancakes.
Dr. Trimble: Thank you for the conversation, an ever-growing list of recommended reading, and our shared love of Dewar's.
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Press night: My first issue as
editor.
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The staff gathers to watch an
educational film about the
miracle of birth. |
RHE 325M (Spring '05): I love each and every one of you with the intensity and immediacy of a drunk-dialer. Let's rent a house in Hyde Park and spend our days tossing around witty banter and solving the world's problems with tightened, brightened prose.
Dr. Ruszkiewicz: Thank you for your wisdom, support, and unflinchingly honest feedback. More than you realize, the Travesty has benefited from your input.
Texas Student Publications (especially Arnold, Beverly, Bobby, Chris, Christa, Cindy, Emily, Jay, Jesse, John, Kathy F., Michelle B., Michelle S., Phillip, Rachel, Robin, and Susan): You help provide students something far more valuable than a simple degree: real-world experience. Thank you for your hard work and patience.
Richard: Thanks for the honesty and occasional kick in the ass. You keep the press running.
Kristin: The girl I'm gonna marry. I knew it the moment you walked into the office for your interview. Nervous, flirty glances and brown corduroy jacket ? you were already hired but didn't know it, and I was plotting your seduction. Amazing. Your dirty crush on Grover Manheim has survived two-and-a-half years of fights, breakups, and that time I ran over your foot with my car. I hope it survives a thousand more. Let's go back to the beach and write a book about a boy and girl who find each other. About strawberries, champagne and the quest to find the Greatest Mexican Restaurant in the World. A book about you and I and the future that extends forever across the horizon.
You, the Travesty's readers: Thanks for putting up with my self-indulgent drivel, especially this ridiculously long and sappy farewell. As a reward for your patience, I'll let you in on a secret: I am Grover Manheim. Thanks for five great years. |
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