It s tune to say goodbye. But
before you say hallelujah, God
bless and rejoice in sheer relief — I
am not going yet, not for a while.
But it’s time to say goodbye to
so many people who have crossed
paths with us. People who are
graduating, roommates who are
moving out, people moving on in
pursuit of better career options, like
our dear Chancellor Graham -
Spanier, people who are going to
be taking up different jobs, people
who are retiring ... the list goes on.
Our social and work circles are
never constant but ever changing.
When I was talking to a ex
change-student friend of mine, it
occurred to me that I’ll probably
never see her again. She is leaving
for her country soon, and I was
stuck by a sudden pang of sadness.
She is not my soulmate, nor my
best friend, even. And I think that
is exactly the reason I am sad.
Ever so often in our lives, we
meet people who are really neat,
really cool — like a nice bunch in a
relaxed class, like the people with
who we have shared riotous
laughters in a summer camp, like
the really pleasant person across
the hall — people with whom we
are comfortable, but not necessarily
close.
These are people in whose
company we grow complacent in
our comfort, yet don’t take addi
tional steps to consolidate the
relationship into a lifelong friend
ship. Mainly due to lack of time.
Accept it or not, life in these
United States is a sorry, sordid
slavery under the relentless and
merciless master that is time. The
only thing that has successfully and
totally conquered the indomitable
and uncontrollable spirit that is
America is time.
Even if you want to spend time
with a person, given all that an
average student does, where do you
Vennlla Ramallngam
find the time to socialize? You
really have to go out of your way.
Having spent all my student life
until my graduate years without
ever taking up a job of any kind, it
awes me to no extent to see the
things people do here while going
to school.
Many of my friends here work
40 hours while managing a full
course load. And on top of that, if
you are in a relationship, add
another 40 hours of “work.” Salute
and pat yourself on your backs, all
you heroes!
And I’ll save my admiration for
another column. I truly believe in
Seal’s words when he sings, ‘Time is
the space between you and me,”
especially when it comes to taking
the time off to get to know a person
outside your established social circle.
The summer camp HAS to end
sometime and you WILL have to
return to your “normal” life, which
won’t be quite the same thanks to
the people you had encountered.
That is reality.
Going back to the talk with my
exchange-student friend, I was sad
that I had a chance to meet all
these cool people and before I have
a chance to get to know them well,
they are going to be gone. It is not
tragic, but it is definitely sad.
As my thoughts ran along this
direction over the countless “could
have become lifelong friends if
only I had the time,” I realized that
this need not necessarily be a sad
tiling. Maybe that’s how things are
meant to be — these people are
like the very first spring flowers in
our lives — they may not last very
long, but they leave us remember
ing forever their freshness and
spectacular colors.
Some people think friendship
with such ephemeral people in our
lives is a waste of time, since it
does not last. But these are the
people who do not enjoy the beauty
of the rainbow because of a drizzle.
The people who we meet even
briefly enrich our lives like a cool
summer breeze. By the time we
warm up to them, it’s time for one
of us to go. The hardest part of this
friendship is letting go when it is
time — for it is so temporary.
These people are not our best
friends, with whom we will surely
keep in touch. Nor are they
indifferent acquaintances, with
whom we surely won’t keep in
touch. These are our in-between
friends, with whom we would love
to keep in touch, but realistically
and sadly end up going our differ
ent ways.
It’s like having to leave a
beautiful novel unfinished, never to
know the end. It’s like possessing a
piece of a treasure map — you
know that there is treasure some
where, but you don’t know where
to start, and much worse don’t have
a chance to finish the search.
But then the beauty of such
futile friendships is that we come
off as better people for these
chance encounters. We have had
the chance and pleasure of opening
a precious gifi box and having had
a glimpse of the beauty inside. And
even though it is only in passing,
such a thing of beauty will always
remain as a joy forever.
Raman again Is {radiate stndeatla
computer science and a Dally Nebraskan
colnmidst
Grades trivial on walk of life
Have you ever reit like you were
teetering on the edge of disaster?
Just one more little step and the
ground beneath you will give way.
The week before finals always
seems to give me that feeling.
There is no way around it.
My stomach crawls up into my
throat and all I can think about is
the disaster looming in the dis
tance. I don’t really consider
myself to be a cynical or negative
person, but the thought of finals
seems to switch my brain to a
black-or-white mode, and I can
only seem to think in terms of pass
or fail.
Over the past two years, I have
experienced a lot, but I have yet to
experience what it is like to fail a
class. I have stood on the edge of
failure many times, but I have yet
to take the final step over the edge.
One thing I learned early in my
college career is to accept the fact
that trying your hardest and not
succeeding is common and needs to
be taken with a grain of salt.
In past semesters, I must have
had a four-leaf clover on my
shoulder and an angel watching
over me during finals week. This
semester, however, I think my
angel is on vacation, and my four
leaf clover has withered and died.
My luck seems to be slowly
running out when I need it the
most.
For some reason, why I’m in
school has become jumbled up and
I’m left quite confused. It’s hard
for me to look out the window and
see blue skies and feel the warm
sun and not think that I should be
out there instead of inside with my
nose in a textbook, reading about .
things that seem irrelevant at the
present time.
I have often been told that I
should view my college career as a
means to an end, or as a passage
way to another part of my life.
Beth Flnsten
Right now, I feel as if I am travel
ing along one of my father’s short
cuts that almost inevitably will
result in me taking twice as long to
reach the destination. It seems to
me that in recent years, the value
and the purpose of going to college
has greatly diminished. College is
no longer a place of higher educa
tion and knowledge, but nothing
more than a competitive game to
see who can fastest reach the great
Utopia we like to call the real
world.
I’m tired of running the races of
life and not coming in first by a
fraction of a second. I can only
hope that somewhere along the
line, the judge’s watch will be
wrong, and my break will finally
come.
After high school, I had a
feeling of hope and complete and
utter faith in the future.
Then I entered college, and I got
a good dose of reality thrown in my
face, with a dash of cynicism. My
faith in the future became a fear of
the future, and I finally realized
that I was the only one who was
going to get me through the next
four years of my life.
Taking life less seriously is
one of those things that is easier
said then done. When I finally
learn how, I am sure that it will
be the greatest feeling on earth. I
wish I could take at race value
everything thrown at me, and
realize that I am only 20 years old
with plenty of good years in front
of me.
Finals week will come and go,
and no matter what happens, I will
still be here with a life to live and
to make the best of. I do not boast
to be wise beyond my years, but if
I can offer any bit of advice to
those with a college career in their
future, it would be that the best
thing you can do is to learn to take
life less seriously and realize that
failing a class does not make you a
failure at life.
They say that hindsight is 20/20.
If that is the case, then after next
week, my life should be a wonder
ful vision of clarity. With one more
year under my belt, I can only hope
that it will get better from here on
out.
No one ever said that college
would be easy or that it would
make any sense. My grades on my
finals or in my classes will never
define who I am, but the work and
the honest effort I put into getting
them will. No matter what happens
when this semester is over, I loiow
that my attitude has changed for the
better. I am one step closer to
taking life a little less seriously,
and a lot more knowledgeable
about how to go about it.
For those of you who are
presently high on caffeine and
stressed out of your minds, I advise
you to step back and put your life
in perspective. Take it from one
who has been there — nothing is
ever as bad or as hopeless as it may
seem.
The other day, my dad told me
something most people have heard
before, but it might help to hear it
again. All anyone can expect of
you is that you do your best and
live up to your potential. If you
have accomplished that, then you
can never be seen as a failure.
Flistea is a sophomore pre-pharmacy
major aad a Daily Nebraskaa cotamaist
Montana doesn’t 011
retirement criteria
An elderly man named Sid
called with an idea for a change
in the language of the world of
sports.
“I was just watching this Joe
Montana on TV,” he said. “He
was announcing his retirement.
But he’s not really retiring, is
he?”
Yes, he will no longer play
football.
“That’s not what I mean. I’m
retired. I worked 45 years. Then
I got a pension. Now I sit home
all day and count my dimes
because I’m too damn old to do
anything else.
“This Montana, he’s a
youngster. And he’s just quitting
one job and starting in on
something else. So instead of
saying that he’s retiring, you
news people ought to say he’s
quitting.”
But the results are the same.
“Oh no they’re not. There are
a heck of a lot of differences.”
Such as?
“Well, is he buying a used RV
so that he and his wife can drive
down to Florida when it gets
cold?”
I seriously doubt that.
“See? I’ll bet he’s not doing
any of the things that a normal
person does when he retires. I’ve
been retired for 10 years, and I
know them all. I can tell you
about them.”
So with Sid’s expertise, we’ve
put together a list of things a
person must do to earn the status
of “retired”
• Is Montana planning to
drive to California to visit his
sister? “About half the guys I
worked with said they were
going to do that when they
retired,” Sid said. “The guys who
didn’t have sisters in California
said they were going to take the
vacation in Hawaii that they
always dreamed about. I was
lucky because I didn’t have a
sister in California. I went to '
Hawaii and got a bad sunburn.”
• Is the highlight of
Montana’s day a walk down to
the neighborhood diner for a cup
of coffee and some conversation
with other retirees? “This was a
pretty good winter because we
had the O.J. case to talk about.
On days when there was nothing
new in the trial, we had Michael
Jordan’s comeback. And on the
real slow days, we could com
pare ailments. One morning we
had a group at the counter with
two triple bypasses, two pros
tates, a hip replacement, a colon,
a cataract job and a 90 percent
hearing loss in one ear.”
• Is Montana going to go
through the house and gather up
all the jars and bowls containing
coins and haul them to the bank
to have them counted and
Mike Royko
exchanged for cash? “That was
the first thing I did when I
retired. Now, I don’t accumulate
coins because I use them to pay
for things. It really gets people
mad when I take my time '
counting out $4 or $5 worth of
small change at the check-out
counter. What’s the rush? I’ve
got nothing but time.”
• When Montana goes to
Florida with his wife, are they
going to always have dinner at a
restaurant’s early-bird special?
“Here’s a good tip,” Sid said. “If
you’re going to have a cocktail,
always order it straight up
instead of on the rocks because
you get more booze that way.
There’s no sense in spending
good money on melted ice.”
• When Montana and his wife
dine out, are they going to drop a
few table items in their purse or
pockets? “On one trip to Florida,
we didn’t buy a single loaf of
bread or a box of sugar because
we socked away so many sugar
packets and dinner rolls. That’s
why I like places that serve
mustard and ketchup in those
little packets. You can’t take it
home if it’s in a bottle.”
• Is Montana going to send
any long, angry letters to his
congressman or the letters
section of a newspaper? “When I
was working, I wouldn’t even
send a postcard,” Sid said. “But
now I write to my congressman
all the time, telling him how he’s
screwing up. They always send
back real pathetic letters saying
they’ll try harder. So I just bawl
them out even worse. Keeps
them on their toes.”
• Will Montana ever miss a
chance to say that life used to be
better and that the whole country
is falling apart and a tomato has
no taste and Nixon wouldn’t
look too bad right now? “He’s
still so young, I bet he doesn’t
know who Spiro Agnew was.”
Finally, Sid said: “If you need
any more proof that he’s not
really retiring, at his press
conference, he didn’t once
mention his prostate.”
Maybe there is nothing wrong
with it.
“See?”
© 1995 Tribune Media Services, lac.
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Mike Luckovlch
