Friends, readers and awkwardly estranged lovers, my time brightening your Thursdays has come to an end. What follows here is my last ever column to appear in The Cornell Daily Sun (provided I pass History of Rock and Roll and graduate). As I looked back and reflected on my experiences in preparation for writing a meaningful column, I realized that on the Grand-Scale-of-Profoundness, anything I could say would rank far below even-a-teeny-weeny-bit-profound. On top of that, you have probably already read goodbye columns and will undoubtedly read several more before the final breath of the semester. With these sentiments in mind, I sent my initial, sappy, poor-attempt-at-something-meaningful rough draft to a lonely island somewhere in cyberspace where hopefully it will never be recovered.
I thought that a better way to cap off my long and distinguished career as a journalist (haha journalist … yeah, right …) would be combining all aspects of my columns into one. So here it is, a bulleted / numbered list of controversial complaints mostly about nothing too important.
- Some people think quarter cards and quarter carders are annoying. I happen to really like quarter carders (it has nothing to do with the fact that I have quarter carded and understand how difficult it is to be rejected by everyone). I use quarter carders as a game. The game has two versions. Version one: Try to get as few quarter cards as possible. Version two: Try to get as many as possible. The game has strict rules, paths across Ho Plaza to Willard Straight must be relatively direct; no excessive weaving to avoid or gather quarter cards is allowed and if you are offered a quarter card, you must take it and be polite about it. The key to winning is timing and level of approachability. Time your walk so you pass a quarter carder as they are handing a card to someone else or are free and you can accept a card. Appear approachable and smile if you want a card. If you are playing to get as few as possible I recommend putting your head down and headphones in.
- I have heard that women find awkwardness endearing. I’m not sure I believe this is true. How come whenever I trip up the front steps of Willard Straight I don’t brush myself off to find five women fawning over me?
- I think it would go a long way to improving mental health on campus if professors started using different colored stars to grade papers and tests. The colors could correspond to grades. An A would be a gold star; a B would be a silver one and so forth. This way even if someone failed and got a red star they couldn’t feel bad, because they had a star on their paper. Who doesn’t feel happy with a star on their paper?
- The best super heroes are the ones who can fly. They are significantly cooler if they have wings. The problem is that the only flying superhero with wings that I can think of is Storm, and she is a woman. This wouldn’t be a problem except I plan on one day spontaneously turning into a preexisting superhero. When this eventually happens I would really prefer it if I could remain a man. Maybe my best option is one of the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz.
- Lately I’ve noticed that no one looks happy when walking to class. I have made it my mission to cheer them up, so I have tried smiling at random people. I haven’t received many return smiles. I can’t decide if people just don’t see me, or if my semi-forced smile comes off as creepy. Judging by the fact that I haven’t become an invisible superhero yet, my bet is on the latter.
- It always surprises me when someone tells me that they are bored. First, I don’t really care. Only boring people are bored. And second, I am mildly insulted that when you are hanging out with me you are bored. Have you read these columns? I’m not boring 6.5 days a week.
- I think that instead of chanting “OoooLayyyy Olay Olay Olay,” at soccer games, it would be better if everyone just sang Shots by LMFAO.
- An ad was published listing the new members of the Sphinx Head Secret Society. What confuses me is that if I know who is in it and that it exists, is Sphinx Head much of a Secret Society? It seems about as secret as the society of people that can be found drinking on my couch on a given Saturday. We just don’t have a cool name.
- My editor, Ruby, told me that I could recommend a successor to have this amazing gig next year. Trust me, you want this prestigious position. Several women (yes, more than one) have told me how great I am (when I say “I” I mean my column and when I say “great” I mean adequate). Anyway, I am currently accepting applications. Qualified applicants should possess the following qualities: two first names, attention to minute and unimportant details, the ability to expand on ideas that warrant no further expansion and an innocence when it comes to racial issues that could be construed as mildly racist by those that don’t know you. Those with email signatures need not apply.
- As I look back on my tenure with The Sun (I know I said I wasn’t going to be sappy and retrospective, I promise this is the only one. [Ladies, I always keep my promises.]). I realize that being published has inflated my head to enormous proportions. Which I think is actually okay, because now I fit into adult hats and can stop shopping in the kids department.
- I have always wanted to write a haiku in my column but never had the guts to ask my editors if it was appropriate. But since this is my last column ever I dare someone to try to stop me:
Writing for The Sun
sure has been a lot of fun
Peace readers! I’m done.
Will Spencer is a senior in the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences. He may be reached at email@example.com. Tripping Up Stairs appears alternate Thursdays this semester.