Heather
LAMPE
Repetition reveler
Change is only good for underwear
When I saw the piles of wet hair
below my feet, I really thought the
hair dresser may have to help me to
my car. On Monday I was possessed
by some sort of demon who told me
to chop off all my hair. Now here I sit
feeling like a sheared sheep with the
realization that I can’t handle change.
I’ve been told a million times that
life is about change and that nothing
ever stays the same. But despite how
many sappy balladeers croon this
message to me, I refuse to accept it.
The only things I agree to change are
my underwear and my sheets.
I have friends who revel in
change. They change their hair
colors, their majors, their boyfriends,
their jobs. They find excitement in
new endeavors.
I’m the opposite. I revel in
repetition. I marvel at monotony. I’m
scared of the new. I welcome change
like I welcome toenail fungus.
Look at what happened when
Coca-Cola tried to change to New
Coke. Their sales dropped, and they
had to bring back Classic Coke.
Remember Crystal Pepsi? It tasted
like hydrogen peroxide. Why don’t
these people know you don’t need to
change a perfectly good thing.
Look what happens when
networks try to change the lead
actors in their sitcoms. I was greatly
distraught and confused when they
tried to infiltrate a new Becky into
the “Roseanne” cast. And I’m still
bewildered when I watch a marathon
of “Bewitched” and they play two *v-i
consecutive episodes with two
different Darins. She was a witch,
she would have noticed.
Change doesn’t work for enter
tainers either. Remember Debbie
Gibson and her lovey-dovey songs
from the 1980s? She is now Deborah
Gibson. Last time I saw her on Regis
and Kathy Lee, she was attempting
«
I welcome change
like I welcome
toenail fungus.”
her new alternative look. Debbie, it
ain’t gonna work. We remember.
And remember MC Hammer? He
had everybody dancing around in
those baggy harem pants. The last
time I was watching videos and I saw
Mr. Hammer, he was trying to
portray a ganster rapper. MC, I’m
sorry but how are you supposed to be
taken seriously by your gansta rap
peers When several years ago you had
little white girls gyrating at suburban
proms?
I think my fear of change may
stem from living with my father. He
isn’t one for change either. When you
enter his home, you will be immedi
ately escorted back to the 1970s. The
kitchen walls are covered in this f *
funky orange and brown boxy
wallpaper. The appliances are
avocado green. The counters are
covered in that old Formica with
little swirly patterns that look like
ring worm.
Dad has a good job. He could
actually buy new furnishings. But if
he actually did get rid of the couch
that he’s had since I was in second
grade, it would mean that he’d have
to spend years lying on the new one
until the lumps and springs bulged
out perfectly. It would mean that my
brothers would have to spend years
perfecting the grape Kool-aid and
nacho cheese stains that cloak its
cushions.
Change just requires too much
work for me. It’s too shocking for my
system. It’s possible that I could
change my sedentary, lard-filled
lifestyle, but I’d have to change my
habits. Change like that also requires
willpower, of which I have none. I
can eat healthy for about a day and
then French Twist doughnuts start
calling me from the refrigerator.
I suppose I must admit that there
have been good changes that have
come along. Computers have been a
good thing, except every year the
technology changes. VCRs have
been enjoyable, except you have to
be a rocket scientist to program
them. Take-out and delivery food
have alleviated stress, except for the
three out of four times the delivery
man shows up drunk and late.... Hey,
I’m trying to be positive.
I guess if I can’t change I will just
have to live vicariously through my
friends. “Oh sure Elizabeth, I think a
bald look would be really good for
you... Volunteering? With children?
Geez, Laura, how about if I just give
ymifiome money. You can take diem
out for a Happy Meal.... You want to
start running Kelly? I don’t know.
How about if I just drive along side
you in the car and give you words of
inspiration?”
Lampe is a senior news-editorial
and English major and a Daily
Nebraskan columnist.
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