OCR Interpretation


The Press. (Cortland, N.Y.) 1972-1990, October 09, 1987, Image 6

Image and text provided by SUNY Cortland

Persistent link: http://dev.nyshistoricnewspapers.org/lccn/np00190002/1987-10-09/ed-1/seq-6/


Thumbnail for 6
SIX/The Press/Friday, October 9, 1987 ' Just give me a chance Confessions of a real \townie\---------- By KELLEY DWYER Special to The Press When I first got back to school this year I was terribly excited. My living ar- rangements had changed for the better. I had gotten rid of a \couch potato\ housemate. For those of you who never had to live with someone who, when receiv- ing their TV Guide, highlights their favorite shows, you have never lived with a quintessential \couch potato''. I was ready for a fresh start. I had brand new note books and fresh long pencils. (Don't tell me that you didn't get excited when you sharpened your first pencil too!) I was ready to \do well and excel.\ lt seemed that the whole world of academics was ahead of me; from Venn Diagrams to see- ing all my friends again - l was ready to be here again. In short, I was psyched! My first class began and I met two people right away. After the usual opening ques- tions: \What year are you?,\ ··what's your name?,\ and \What's your major?,\ I felt pretty secure. But then it hit, my stomach plummeted down whole flights of stairs and my heart jumped right into my throat. They had asked the dread- ed question: \Where do you come from?'' I contemplated jumping out of the window, but we were on the second floor of Moffett. I then thought of feigning deafness, but that wouldn't do it. Maybe I could fake a seizure or something, anything to avoid the answer to this question. I would have felt more comfortable telling these people how much I weighed. It seemed as though the room fell deathly quiet, and everyone leaned their heads my way as if to hear insider stock information. I swallowed hard and said, \I'm from Cortland.\ Little buzzes of whispering began and I felt as though I was a freak on display at the circus. My newfound ac- quaintances said, \Oh you're a townie.\ I had no choice but to answer \Yes.\ I think it would be beneficial to state that I am a normal person with a heart and a very fragile ego, just like anyone. When I hear the word \townie\ l think of an elderly destitute person who walks around all day mumbl- ing to themselves and forag- ing local dumpsters in search of returnable bottles and cans. I'm not sure what images come to mind for other peo- ple, but I'm sure that they aren't of me, at least l hope not! I don't mean to sound like I'm bitter and against everyone who comes from somewhere else, but whenever students go back to their hometowns, they are townies too. Most of the professors who help us to shape our minds and mold our lives are also ••townies.\ If it is such a terrible place, then why would we all choose to come to school here? The only things that I wam is a little unriPr<:t<mrhn~ ::tncl .;:pndtivity. I don't have any diseases. It's okay to talk to me and become my friend. I'm a thinking and feeling human being. l don't laugh and point when I find that some- one is from somewhere else. (\My Lord, a foreigner!\) I try to treat others with the same respect and kindness that I expect them to show me. To further damage my already tarnished standing in the college community, I live at horne. This is not because I am unable to live away from my parents- I'm just not overly bestowed with the means to live off campus again. What may seem really weird is that I love it. My parents respect me and give me all of the privacy I need, not to mention that my mother's cooking is far bet- ter than anything that I can cook, I mean defrost. Basically, it's a very good liv- ing situation, and certainly much more preferable than living with a couch spud who stiffs others for the bills·; All things considered, my life is good, but I think that we all could learn a lot more from each other if we accept each other's differences and build a friendship and understanding that comes from being open-minped enough to see past those dif- . ferences to our common feel- ings and dreams- to be ac- cepted for what we are. All I ask is for everyone tc remember that I have a fragile ego, just like everyone else. Tlw Crorll.md Cnllegl' Alumni A:-.~• 'l i.rl11111 prese11ts CONTEMPORARY FILM CLASSICS Tuesday Night Theatre .. : . -, . . . \\' ·- ~ .. . .·Ill. /i#ills fir•· fr•'•' •IJitl tm• .~IWII\1J til· H ,.,,; , ;,H11•:f.lror.•~ i ni~!!i 1-!i'(\jll\i!~l' :!-!f~liit:•'• · .:· .. , .···: ..-;' Body snatchers get mom & dad By KERRI DALESSANDRO Staff Writer Are you a freshman? If you are, have you gone horne yet? You remember, ·the place you spent your entire life until about a month ago. There was mom; dad; your brother, the animal torturer; and your basset hound, Fang. Well if you're waiting until October break to go horne, expect a surprise. You're not going to find the· same peo- ple. Oh, your brother and your dog will be the same, but not your parents. You see, pea pods from outer space have zapped your parents and replaced them wi th Ward and June Cleaver. Believe me, it's true. I went home two weeks ago. I was greeted at the bus station by a woman who ap- peared to be my mother - she looked just like her, but I 1vasn't fooled. It was ob- viously a trick. My mother ha~ never cried on the sight of me before. My mother would never run across a ~rowded bus station yelling m~ name. But the pea pod did. I decided there wa!'t nothing I could do but go home with it. Maybe Dad was okay. When \\>e got home I realized 1 hat my dad wouldn't be there for an hour and I was trapp:::d alone 1vith it. It told me that it was making my favorite dinner and that I didn't have to help cook or set the table. It just wanted me to relax. Ha! The JlOci was pretty stupid if it thought I wouldn't know right away after that. My mother has never before ut- tered those words in that se- quence in her life! When Dad came home it took longer for me to realize tllat he was a pea pod too. But when he said, ••I really miss the way you always stole my socks,\ I knew. The last time I stole his socks my real dad told me that if I did it again, he was going to stuff every sock he owned in my mouth and pull them out tllrough the pores in my skin. Over dinner the female pod told me that tomorrow we were going out to buy me anything I thought I needed. This summer my real mother wouldn't even buy me a pack of gum if I got on my knees in the middle of the mall and begged for it. So the next day, the female pod took me out shopping and out to lunch. It wanted to know what I was doing and how I was feeling. The only thing my real mother ever wanted to know was if I made my bed. Tht: pods spent over $200 on me in two day~. The last time they offered to do that wa~ when a band of gyp!>ies ~:ame and ~aid they take me away for a small fee. They wanted me to talk al dinner. My real parents used to pay me $2 to ~hul up for the en- ! ire mea I. When you go home, you'll have to face the.,e aliens. There is nothing you (an do about them because you have no proof. I have only one piece of advice for you: l1nn'r go rn .,JPPn' -Interested in coming out for the Club Volleyball Team? - Practice starts Monday, October 26th from 4-6 in the wood gym in the PER building. - For more information, contact the intramural office ext. 4960. I 137 Main St. :~. : :.: our fast food SUBstitute Full line of subs and sandwiches 6 foot subs for parties Compare our\ quality and • pr1ce \Cortland's original SUQShop'~ 753-7092 Open 7 -~ys a week Open :tate!' ~-, .· '\' 1 WJ ByST Flasl sound Thund1 eyes a1 knowi a socl dad's. swipe t ofThu into th' dining supply result ritual. flash SOUR I Thun Flasl again. with s Just a The G. open 1 stands tionaH tail is- from ~ hind q he ~tar a bra1 come He's ; Sl ht w . By A. I State York physi• Kelly cone, man; EmpJ, struct quet Kohl~ tion i got h1 Ea, stude plete intefl her dire• Win~ dinat work for .c super also;

xml | txt