My fellow Cornellians,
I am aware, of course, that there are currently more trustee candidates than there are planets in our solar system. Nevertheless, I am throwing my hat into this crowded ring, and therefore announce my candidacy as a write-in option for this upcoming election to serve on Cornell University’s Board of Trustees.
There are certainly a few problems which I aim to address. Yes, I am scheduled to graduate in little over six weeks, but I don’t anticipate this being an issue. “Scheduled to” does not mean “will.” I am going to find a way to have my diploma withheld, and I am confident that I will succeed not only because I have much experience in this area — I used to call them “close calls” but now I call them “practice runs”— but also because college affords one a wealth of creativity and ample opportunity to make poor judgment calls. Besides, I believe I can not-graduate without resorting to childish things like chaining myself to the president’s office. But I digress.
There are many options available to make sure I don’t graduate: I could replace the Star Spangled Banner on Willard Straight with a Mexican flag. I could replace my own clothes for the day with a Mexican flag. I could go to North Campus with a keg and several handles of Barton in order to rediscover freshman year by drinking in the Townhouses again. I could shamelessly seduce the dean’s wife. There really is no shortage of ways by which I can get the administration angry at me.
But my purpose is not to get expelled or cause mischief and mayhem, despite much evidence to the contrary. I only seek to remain a student so that I can be an effective trustee. My end goal, quite simply, would be to make Cornell better. And there are certainly many ways to ensure that our University’s status is so exalted and well-regarded, people will think that Steve Jobs designed it.
For instance, we have Convocation and the rather underwhelming response from the student body these past few years with regards to the chosen speakers. Many Cornellians feel like we need bigger names, that we need someone about whom we can boast to those poor schmucks unable to attend Ivy League schools. We should be able to get the big names, and, if elected from among the 173 candidates, I pledge to help bring people who have been in People magazine at least twice in the last month.
How do I propose to accomplish this, you ask? We simply have to be creative and think outside the box. Gone will be the days of calls and polite requests of managers, of sitting by the phone waiting to hear back from someone. We must be far more proactive than that. There is a handy little technique called “blackmail,” which, I’ve found, is generally effective at getting the results you want. Now, I don’t want to go into detail about this technique or how I plan to employ it, but I can say that it does not require much. Fly me to L.A. or Vegas and arrange for a face-to-face with whoever the celebrity, or “target,” may be. I need a limo, $1,000 cash, criminal and civil amnesty and a head start with a tequila bottle. All you need to do is have someone follow with a camera. Result? Voilá! A convocation speaker. And, should blackmail offend souls more moral than my own, we can always skip the blackmail part and sell directly to the tabloids, ensuring enough money to finance the acquisition of the Bill Clintons and the Bill Gateses many, many times over.
The lack of a “real” band at Slope Day is another development that angers many of the students who will be unable to remember the day anyway. To them I say, listen. Slope Day is what we make of it and how many Tequila Sunrises we can chug outside the Slope because they won’t let us bring the bottles in. Who even remembers Ben Folds? All I remember is being woken up by the police. No, not the band. And while some people may skirt oblivion to see a good band perform, many people won’t. I mean, can you imagine Shakira on the Slope? Can’t you just picture me and every other red-blooded male charging the stage? I can easily see myself “losing it” and trying to hit on her by telling her that I know Spanish and “totally get” her songs. Shouldn’t we try to avoid this? At least for decency reasons? Am I wrong here?
Those are the biggies, and, unfortunately, two activities in which they trustees don’t really have a hand. But I still wanted to put my thoughts out there. The actual work that trustees do, which is have one vote out of 64, is infinitely more important. It’s a mathematical fact! In the rare event that we have to choose a president, I also have an answer, and it involves a Deathmatch. We give the candidates chairs, chains and shots of Bourbon so they can take more hits over a longer amount of time. And, then we have the issue of the endowment. There’s no reason we can’t make a lot of money very quickly, and my recent gambling addiction affords us the perfect opportunity: Cornell on the Strip. I mean, can you picture Happy Dave playing poker? All those players with names like Rusty and Orlando won’t know what to think! Brilliant!
And this is what I have to offer. Brilliant ideas. Like a Louie’s Lunch/Hot Truck in Collegetown. Or a bar on the Arts Quad. You know, for those long nights in the library.
And, of course, the best idea of them all.
Tequila para todos!
Carlos Maycotte is The Sun’s former Associate Editor. He can be contacted at cam98@cornell.edu [1].
Tequila Sunrise appears Thursdays.
Links:
[1] mailto:cam98@cornell.edu