The Batt Blogs
September 11th, 2007
Hot hot heat
By on September 11th, 2007
Told you so
OK, you can admit it, I was right about Saturday’s blistering football game. It was pretty hot. Not like Britney Spears hot, because when you say that, you really mean ugly and sickening.
But Saturday’s football game against Fresno State was pretty hot. Actual temps ranged between 92 and 95 degrees, with heat indexes from reliable sources coming in between 102 and 110. (I say reliable because friends have told me Fox Sports measured a heat index on the field of 140 degrees Fahrenheit. I really don’t believe that.)
Steven Romo reported that almost 250 people visited medic stations in Kyle Field due to the heat. From what I saw where I saw sitting on third deck and from what I saw on 12th Man TV, I would say about a third of the student section left by halftime. While it was certainly neat to see the all the students walk across each deck as the overtime action changed sides of the field, you know what that means? There was room to move. Too much room.
I realize that some people could handle the heat, but was it really that hot? If you polled those who visited medic stations, I’d be willing to be 2/3 or more didn’t have more than a few ounces of water before the game, more than half didn’t bring water with them to the game, and more than half had more than their fair share of alcohol and/or soft drinks before the game.
So most of you who left the game early don’t get sympathy from me. You knew it would be hot and you chose not to act accordingly.
A Quality Cup o’ Joe
I want to give a shout out (do people still use that anymore? I feel old.) to the staff at Poor Yorick’s, the little coffee shop and deli attached to Evans Library. Despite using the same materials and equipment as every other coffee place on campus, they continue to produce good drinks. I’m no connoisseur, but I enjoy coffee. I frequent most of the local and corporate shops around town and I occasionally concoct specialty drinks at home (lattes, mochas, etc.). Well, I try to make them, anyhow. To the staff at Poor Yorick’s, you are a coffee oasis in the desert of on-campus dining. Thank you.
In the doghouse
Speaking of heat, it’s on A&M’s mascot, Reveille VII. In case you missed it, she didn’t attend Friday’s yell practice and Saturday’s football game because she bit her handler earlier in the week. While this time, I really don’t blame Miss Rev (the mascot corporal stepped on her tail during a run), she has shown an affinity for attaching her mouth to human flesh.
As one of our commenters said, does the University have a system in place for the forced retirement of the current mascot? I know they retired Reveilles V and VI before they died, but they retired as a matter of health, not behavior. I’m certainly not calling for Reveille VII’s immediate retirement. I the story we got is true, then Reveille should carry on her regular duties once her detention in the Vet school in completed. But if Reveille VII should bite someone else in the near future, the University ought to take a serious look into beginning the search for Reveille VIII.
September 3rd, 2007
Welcome to the jungle
By on September 3rd, 2007
Aggie Reality
Texas A&M is searching for a new president. The Board of Regents is working tirelessly to find the next leader of Texas’s second-largest (but by far the best) university. Why waste all that time and money sending the Regents to far off schools interviewing candidates? Why waste time reading countless resumes of potential presidents?
Instead, Texas A&M should turn its presidential search into a reality show.
Just think, candidates would live in Walton Hall for a semester and vie for the presidency through competitions of will, wit and sheer Aggie-ness. Of course, an eating contest at Sbisa is a must. Anyone who can down 50 grilled cheese sandwiches in five minutes is a serious contender for the job. Our next president should physically fit, so a running of the bleachers at Kyle Field would be in order. And finally, the Univeristy’s leade must be academically adept, so all candidates would be required to take, and pass, Math 141.
Pigskin and hamburgers
Really, what is American’s fascination with referring to beef patties and oblong leather balls as pork products? Don’t you just love the English language?
Challenge of the Week
This week’s challenge involves spending quite a large sum of money, but saving some money in the process. Everyone knows about the “College Coupon Books” put out by the oh-so-mysterious Phi Beta Lamba at the beginning of every semester. I love those little white books, filled with coupons for buy-one get-one free smoothies and oil changes. The challenge? Use the entire book. Each and every coupon. From the free T-shirts to the 10 percent-off visits to the nail salon and eye doctor. Just think, you’ll be supporting EVERY business in the Bryan-College Station area and you’ll be “saving” money.
Pundamentals
A sign on the lawn of a drug rehabiltion center reads “Stay of the Grass.”
Texas heat and other signs of the apocalyspe
I don’t know how many Aggies went to the infamous SMU game of 2005, but I was there. I was there for the 103 degree heat. I was there to see the 13 people collapse because of heat exhaustion and many more simply sit down in Kyle Field’s concourses instead watching the game in the blistering heat.
Guess what? For those of you who didn’t get to enjoy that wonderful experience, you will get to on Saturday, when A&M plays Fresno State at 2:30 p.m. This will be one time you’ll actually be excused for wearing a CamelBak.
Parting Thoughts
Dear H-E-B, I really don’t appreciate when grocery stores are tricky. Painting all of your speed bumps white is a good thing. I can see them and know to slow down. Painting all but one of your speed bumps white and leaving that last one to match the color of the pavement, that’s not cool.
August 4th, 2007
Bethlehem, part one
By on August 4th, 2007
Authors note: Howdy readers. Thanks for sticking with me! The lack of an update was because I was traveling throughout Israel and often had trouble finding an Internet connection and the time to post an entry. I am safely back in the states now, but I kept a faithful journal of my travels, so the blog will continue. Thanks for reading!
From the beginning of this trip, I was warned away from the West Bank:
“Two words folks: Palestinian Authority. It’s like the Wild Wild West out there.”
“You go there, you get kidnapped.”
I avoided the area, mainly because I didn’t know how to get there safely by myself. That all changed when Katy and I crossed paths.
Katy and I met on a bus and struck up a conversation because we were the only ones in the vicinity speaking English. She is outgoing, pretty and says words such as “tish tish” and “round abouts.” So you can imagine my surprise when this westernized 21-year-old told me she was living in the West Bank town of Bethlehem — by herself.
I immediately flooded her with questions, starting with the obvious, “Isn’t that insanely dangerous?”
“Nope,” she smiled. She must have sensed my shock because she launched into a well-practiced explanation: Palestinians in Bethlehem are friendly, often more so than the intense Israelis, she said. And most of the fighting is in the Gaza Strip and very select areas of the West Bank. It’s safe.
Katy then invited me to visit Bethlehem and the Bible College where she volunteers, and I eagerly accepted her offer. She gave me directions — from Damascus Gate, take an Arab bus to the check point; bring your passport. From there, walk to the college. It was all straight forward enough, I thought to myself.
A week later, I was jammed against the window of an Arab sheruit wondering what I was doing. The small unairconditioned minibus seats 20 people; by my count 31 were riding it. I was one of three females and the only person unveiled. Some man’s leg was pressing against mine, and I was leaning as close as possible against the window, studiously avoiding his eye. A group of middle-aged men were shouting back and forth, with the bus driver occasionally joining in what I can only guess was a debate. As each new man boarded the bus, another horror story about Americans being kidnapped would flash through my mind. I was stereotyping. I was alone. I was afraid.
When we arrived at the checkpoint, my relief at getting off of that bus was palpable. A few men ran ahead to be the first to get in line while the remaining bus passengers slowly walked toward the orange building.
At the checkpoint, we walked through a turnstile and into a terminal with video cameras, x-ray machines and metal detectors. An Israeli soldier sat behind a large glass window checking identification. To get through, a Palestinian holds up his or her ID and the soldier types in an ID number. A picture of the Palestinian pops up on a computer, along with his or her personal information. If the information matches up, the solider waves the person through another turnstile, and the Palestinian then puts his or her hand on a machine that scans fingerprints. I tried to put my hand on the fingerprint reader but was stopped by a kind man.
“No,” he said with laughter in his eyes. “That is for Palestinians.” His voice became quiet and forlorn: “Specifically for Palestinians.” In this region, Big Brother really is watching.
From there, we walked through another turnstile, and I got my first up-close view of the wall. It was large, grey and intimidating, despite the Israel Ministry of Tourism’s bright blue, pink and orange sign that read: “Peace Be with You.”
With a deep breath, I walked under the wall.
To be continued…
July 10th, 2007
War and peace
By on July 10th, 2007
It’s early evening and the sky is layered in rich colors— deep pink, orange, yellow. The window of my fourth-story dorm room is thrown wide open and the wind is howling along the side of the building. Slow, melodious Arab music is floating above the noise of the city. And, for the past hour, gun shots have been exploding in a nearby village.
It’s a wedding, some people say. It’s a fight, more people say.
Yet as I walk along the bustling streets of Jerusalem, it’s easy to forget the dangers of this region. Israel feels safe.
At the same time the gunshots are going off, three children are lost in the imaginary world of their front yard, two teenage girls are giggling on their walk home, and a taxi driver is impatiently honking at a car that stopped in front of him — the pulse of the city refuses to pause.
Israel is not the country America sees on the nightly news. Rather, it is a collection of people who have bonded together to make the best out of any situation. This shows in the country’s low personal crime rates. For example, in 2006 there were 2,291 cases of robbery in Israel. In Dallas there were 6,882 cases of robbery and in Houston there were 11,128 cases.
The fighting seen on the news is contained to very specific regions — the Gaza Strip and certain areas the West Bank. However, there’s tension in the North, and everyone seems to be talking about an imminent war with Syria. Living in Israel, it’s hard to imagine the country at war. It would be like seeing Dallas or Houston go to war. My brain can’t make the connection between this beautiful, modern city and the dangers that surround it. Many people believe a war will start sometime between now and October. The Jerusalem Post even had a story Monday on a shortage of gas masks in the country and the need to make emergency purchases.
I have yet to meet anyone that wants to go to war. In fact, most people seem ready to make big concessions in exchange for guaranteed peace. But nothing in the Middle East is guaranteed. In the meantime, the rhetoric that Americans heard so much of after 9/11 is daily brought to life here, as people strive for normalcy and refuse to let danger stop their world.
July 4th, 2007
Orientation and Suspicious Objects
By on July 4th, 2007
I’d only been in the country for a handful of hours and had slept even less in the past few jet-setting days. My new friends and I were on our way to Hebrew University’s new student orientation, which we joked about, figuring the typical drugs/alcohol speech was coming but wondering if “it would be any different here.”
The orientation was led by a yarmulke-wearing Yankees fan with greying hair, glasses and a jolly countenance. I didn’t actually pay attention to his name or to the first half of his introduction. I could look up all I needed to know about Hebrew U’s history on Wikipedia. Instead, I took a great interest in my pen — starring it down as though it were the only barrier between the desk and my heavy head and droopy eyelids. The jet lag was setting in.
After 20 minutes that seemed to last for decades, the professor took on a more serious tone. Here comes the safe alcohol usage speech, I thought.
“I want to teach you the two most important words you’ll learn here,” he said “hefetz hashud — suspicious object.”
The room got quiet, and all of a sudden, I wasn’t so sleepy.
We were taught how to respond if we see a bag or object without an owner, even a backpack at a university. We were also given a rundown of campus security. Only students, faculty and staff are allowed on the campus, which is enclosed by tall stone and steel fences. Getting to class is a bit like going to the airport. We have to show our student ID, walk through a metal detector and have someone search our backpacks. We get to keep our shoes on though. The university is patrolled by the IDF (Israeli Defense Force), which has a base on the back of campus, the Jerusalem police, private Hebrew University guards who dress as civilians and walk around with concealed guns, and guards who stand at all gates and most building entrances. All guards have a right to ask to see our IDs. There are also concealed cameras in most of the lights. And that is just the security we were told about.
Despite all of this, in 2002, a terrorist was still able to get into the campus. He was a painter for the university, which enabled him to have a school ID card. The terrorist jumped a fence with a bomb in a backpack and left the backpack on a table in a cafeteria similar to Sbisa. He detonated the bomb from a cell phone, killing nine people — five of whom were Americans — and injuring 85. I will have to walk past the memorial to that tragedy every day on my way to class.
“Jerusalem is a city that lives daily on cakes of dynamite,” the professor continued. “What happens in Gaza affects what happens here. What happens in Syria and Lebanon affects what happens here.”
“How many of you promised family and friends you wouldn’t ride a bus?” he asked.
A few students tentatively raised their hands, looking around to see if they were alone in making that vow.
“Do me a favor: keep that promise,” he said. “Because, God forbid, if something happens, your family and friends will watch the news and have the assurance of knowing you weren’t on that bus.”
He never did talk about alcohol.
June 26th, 2007
Postseason and the summer
By on June 26th, 2007
Howdy Ags! My name is A’Quonesia (better known as Aqua) Franklin and I’m the team captain of the Big 12 Champion women’s basketball team here at Texas A&M. This is the first entry of the diary I will be writing over the summer for The Battalion.
Ever since we won our first Big 12 Championship and went dancing in March, there have been a lot of activities in the three-month period since then. In mid-May, I was invited to try-out for the U.S. Pan American Games team along with teammates Takia Starks and Morenike Aturnase in Colorado Springs, Colo.
Unfortunately, I did not make the final roster, but it was a great experience to get to play against the best of the best in the women’s game today. I had the opportunity to meet U.S. Olympians and WNBA stars, Cynthia Cooper and Dawn Staley, who gave me pointers about basketball and on how to become a great player, rather than just a good player.
After the USA Basketball Trials, I returned to my hometown of Tyler, Texas, for two weeks and had the opportunity to spend some quality time with my family. We travel a lot during the basketball season, which runs from November through March (or April), so I enjoy every minute I get to spend back home.
Upon returning to Aggieland, my teammates and I started our first individual basketball camp, which included more than 140 campers over the course of four days. We later had five days to recover (which was a much needed break) and then it was right back to working position camp in mid-June. This time around, we had more than 240 campers over the course of three days. On the third day, we had campers from position camp checking out and the second individual camp checking in. You can only imagine how very tired we were at the camp’s end, but working camps is one of the best times of the year for us. Especially, since we get to work with kids.
Next week, I’ll write to you on my return to Tyler for a speaking engagement that benefits future Texas A&M students.
About This Blog
Blogs of The Battalion, the student newspaper of Texas A&M University
Blog Archives
Recent Comments
- Life Insurance blog on Bethlehem, part one.
- BiPolar Disorder blog on Photos from Tel Aviv.
- bi polar, bi polar disorders, bi polar disorder, manic depression on Orientation and Suspicious Objects.
- bi polar, bi polar disorders, bi polar disorder, manic depression on Orientation and Suspicious Objects.
- bi polar, bi polar disorders, bi polar disorder, manic depression on Orientation and Suspicious Objects.
- bi polar, bi polar disorders, bi polar disorder, manic depression on Orientation and Suspicious Objects.
- bi polar, bi polar disorders, bi polar disorder, manic depression on Orientation and Suspicious Objects.
- bi polar, bi polar disorders, bi polar disorder, manic depression on Orientation and Suspicious Objects.
- glamour-agency on Orientation and Suspicious Objects.
- glamour-agency on Bethlehem, part one.
RSS 2.0
