Sally Boy
UNL loses its best customer to graduation
TODD MUNSON is a
junior broadcasting major
and a Daily Nebraskan
columnist.
Barring academic catastrophe,
the University of Nebraska-Lincoln
will lose a living legend May 9th
because of graduation - Brian
“Sally" Fomes is moving on to green
er pastures.
In a collegiate career that spanned
It’s Carmen Miranda! - Halloween
1996.
most of the 90s - seven years to be
exact - Sally wore many hats: athlete,
friend influence (good or bad
depending on your interpretation),
philanthropist and prankster
Cynics may label someone who
needs seven years to get a bachelor’s
degree in English as a slacker, but
Em sure Sally would prefer the title
“UNL’s Best Customer.” His annual
NRoll parties the day before the start
of the school year no doubt pro
longed his academic career.
On the ultimate Frisbee field, his
prowess could not be equaled. You
could say that he was the Tommie
Frazier of the UNL ultimate team.
Always plagued with one injury or
another, he managed to pull out some
of the most unreal displays of athleti
cism by a man dressed in a skirt and a
Megadeth T-shirt.
Keep in mind that this was usual
ly done after a night of drinking
enough beer to intoxicate Northern
Ireland. Put him in a mountain bike
race and the result would be the
same, except he wouldn't be wearing
his skirt.
In a roundabout way. he was into
helping others out. During his seven
year stay in Lincoln, Sally donated
enough plasma to fill Woods Pool
twice over, and he sold his body to
Harris Laboratories so many times
that, thanks to him. a dozen drugs
have been approved by the Food and
Drug Administration.
But one can sell bodily
fluids for only so long
before the implanted spig
ot gets a little annoying
and the prospect of a real
job and a lifestyle that
doesn't work on the barter
system begins to sound
appealing.
Perhaps this is why
Sally buckled down and
took 21 hours this semes
ter, ranging from Math 85
to advanced philosophy.
In the four years that
I’ve known Sally, there
have been countless
moments, always hilarious and
enlightening, that could have never
happened if it wasn’t for him. Many
of these are unfit for print in this
family publication, but I have assem
bled the best of whats fit to print into
“The Top Six Sally Moments.”
Think of the following list as a
six-pack if you will. After all, Sally is
the only person I know who ever
spent hours assembling just the right
costume so he could host a party as
the Old Style Light Princess.
Sally Moment No. 1: In what
could be expected only from an
English major who knows more
quotes from “The Simpsons” than
Shakespeare, Sally brought his dog.
Ginger, to campus one nice after
noon. When he arrived at class, he
told Ginger to wait outside.
All was fine for 10 minutes or so,
but Ginger decided she wanted to
learn Spanish. She slipped into
Henzlik Hall, tracked down Sally’s
classroom and sat down at his feet. 1
think this was the first time since
third grade that I knew of someone
bringing their pet to class without it
being show-and-tell day.
Sally Moment No. 2: As the king
of pranks, there were many toilet
paper strikes, and there was the time
he liberated dozens of Christmas
trees and planted them in a col
league's front yard, but nothing com
pares to what he accomplished with
his roommate. Brett, two years ago.
One night, ironically during hemp
awareness week, he and friends
turned the marble sculpture next to
Love Library, the one that looks like
a surfboard, into an enormous joint.
How they pulled it off, I don't know.
Like many other students. 1 was in
awe at the sheer scale of the stunt.
I really should have known who
the culprits were when I saw Brett
A swing cat on the town. Money, baby. Money.
ana sauy taxing pictures oi tneir
work later that afternoon.
Sally Moment No. 3: A week
after the big October snowstorm, a
group of us planned to ride our bikes
out to Wilderness Park and clean up
some of the damage. We met at The
Mill at 8 a.m., and surprisingly. Sally
was the first one there, hangover and
all. For five hours, on a brutally cold
Saturday, we cleaned up a section of
the park.
The Sally moment happened
when we encountered a pesky tree. It
was broken in half, but the upper por
tion was hanging down at waist level,
still attached by a few strings of bark.
In a classic example of the blind lead
ing the blind, Sally and I pulled at the
tree wath all our might until the non
broken half was bowing over.
We gave up and let go. When we
did, the tree quickly returned to its
upright position and the broken por
tion snapped free and flew 50 yards
through the woods. You had to be
there.
Sally Moment No. 4: Yet again,
it's the blind leading the blind.
Spooner. Dan-0 and I attempted to
ride with Sally in his Volkswagen bus
to an ultimate tournament in Iowa.
What made it interesting was that
there happened to be a monsoon
going on outside. On the inside, Sally
was hampered because only one
headlight and windshield w'iper w'ere
functional.
Yet, he drove with the skill and
precision of Captain Sulu. About the
same time as the camper top popped
up because of the extreme w inds, we
hooligans in the back realized it was
n't necessary to add tequila to the
Margarita mix. Eventually the weath
er. and the fact that the bus was top
ping out at 35 mph, made us stop the
journey in hopes of finishing the trip
in the morning.
We all squeezed into
the bus' bed "Snow White”
style. When we woke up,
the bus wouldn't start; Josh
had transformed into
Spooner, and Sally said my
ass made a comfortable pil
low. Uh, how about those
Cubs, eh?
Sally Moment No. 5:
This one took place on the
last day of school last May.
After my last final, I sold
my books and met Sally,
along with several others,
down at O’Rourke’s
Tavern. It was 11:30 a.m.
After pounding Guinness for a few
hours, we bought some off-sale,
picked up some Doozy’s and stum
bled to campus to enjoy warm sand
wiches and cold beer in the sculpture
garden.
Oh yeah, we were rebels drinking
on campus in broad daylight. There
was never any fear about getting
caught since we were the only people
still on campus at 5 p.m. on a Friday.
This day was Sallyfied when it came
to an end 10 hours later and he was
the last one stumbling.
Sally Moment No. 6: This is a
key example of Sally's incredible
luck. After a spring break ultimate
tournament at the University of
Texas, Sally and Rody were victims
of a terrible error in planning. They
had no ride back to Lincoln. No wor
ries though. They would just hitch
hike the 1,500 miles.
Out of all the psychotic, pervert
ed, chain-saw wielding lunatics in the
world, they were picked up by a fel
low who makes custom vans and
wanted company on his delivery run.
Not only did they ride in a luxurious
ly tncked-out van, their chauffeur
bought them dinner before dropping
them off.
Playing bongos with Ginger. Much
more productive than homework.
His incredible luck goes even fur
ther because he entered college dur
ing the last year a degree in English
came with a teaching endorsement.
That’s right, Sally could be teaching
your kids some day.
Then again, knowing his luck,
he'll encounter a fly, young minx at
graduation who. after receiving her
doctorate, decides she needs a
domestic engineer and becomes
Sally’s “sugar mama” in exchange for
having her dishes washed.
On behalf of everyone who
knows him. I’d like to wish Sally
good luck in the real world. Or, in the
immortal words of Nelson Muntz,
“Ha, ha.”
(The end of the year has come
faster than expected and I still have
some gratuitous mentions to give. So,
Nards, Dugan P. Svenson, Guzzard
Boones, Beaner and The Admiral,
there you are. Sean, sorry I never
helped you find that 6-foot-tall, red
headed Asian with enormous breasts.
Scotty C. don’t squeeze the Charmin.
Malcolm, sorry' we never got to hit
the skins, but I’m saving myself for
Klaus. To my socialist literature
class, let’s forget the final and bring
down the man. And to everyone
returning in the fall, look out: There’s
another Munson coming to UNL.)
Higher learning
College experience offers invaluable lessons in self-worth
LORI ROBISON is a
senior news-editorial
major and a Daily
Nebraskan columnist.
Most things worth learning in this
life cannot be taught in a classroom.
And as this semester comes to a
close and I prepare for my last year at
this institution, the true meaning of that
old saying has been coming into focus.
Certainly, after four years at the
University of Nebraska-Lincoln,
we’ve all learned a great deal about
our chosen careers (which, hopefully,
will materialize into a job very soon
after graduation) and gained insights
into numerous other subjects and
points of view.
But our most valuable knowledge
will last far beyond graduation to form
actualizations that no textbook can
impart, no lecture can touch.
Long after we’ve all forgotten how
to conjugate Spanish verbs and correct
ly graph economic models, the truth of
what was learned here will be pertinent.
That truth for many of us includes a
confidence, a self-worth and an inner
strength that was perhaps lacking that
first day on campus as freshmen - a
courage that comes from chasing dreams
and watching them come to fruition.
For most UNL students, college
represents an almost total freedom for
the first time in their lives.
But, unfortunately, many a student
out there will walk away from this
institution, this experience with only
hazy memories of late-night beer-fests
and groggy morning classes.
Others will spend so much time
complaining and moaning, they’ll for
get to open their minds.
Pity these poor souls. Perhaps
they’re just some of the select few in the
world who have so little left to learn that
they can walk away from the luxury of
receiving a formal education unmoved.
Or perhaps they’re part of the fortu
nate class of people who have never felt
the need to prove something to them
selves, to have that goal be one of the last
and most important things left in life.
And now, with only two semesters
to go and that picture of me walking
across the stage at graduation coming
more and more into focus in my mind’s
eye, this goal, this last-ditch effort to
better my life, may come to pass.
You see, some of us at UNL know
we’re lucky to be here.
Some of us, while we do occasion
ally bitch and moan about the work
load, really love what we’re doing.
We came here with bruised, uncer
tain souls and few directions left in
life. And with a lot of effort and work,
we’ll leave here with a self-worth and
confidence only dreamt of before.
No matter how many years it takes
to pay off my loans, those things
learned about myself, about what I can
do and how far I can go, will have
been well worth it (or damn near).
Because, instead of languishing
away at a dead-end. nowhere job, I (as
many others do every day) took a
chance and followed a dream.
For me, that dream was going to a
university and having a career suited to
my personality. For others, that dream
may include quitting a well-paying job
on Wall Street to conduct white-water
rapid tours down the Colorado River or
reining in fear long enough to com
plete that skydiving course.
And following dreams is rarely com
fortable, rarely lull of safety features.
There are no safety bags on the
road of life, but sacrifices can be made
to live as safely, as securely, as possible.
Pity the poor souls. My father is
one of those people. He’s worked his
whole life in a job he’s hated. But he
makes a decent living and plans to
retire early. He’s earned it.
After all, he’s spent the most pro
ductive, healthiest times of his life
doing a job that has filled him with
stress, anger and dissatisfaction.
He’s had his chances to change
jobs, to switch to a career that offered
more personal satisfaction and bigger
challenges. But he chose the safe road
and stuck with the seniority benefits he
had built up.
I’m not putting him down for it.
It's just that I never felt that sacrificing
happiness and dreams were worth a
little more security.
Sure, I know it’s easy for me to say
that, being a rather young adult myself.
But surely it’s possible to have a semi
satisfying job while maintaining a liv
ing - at least, that’s my theory.
And we can’t become so mired in
our drive to live securely and safely that
we become frozen when it comes time
to take a chance.
Because if nothing changes, noth
ing changes.
If I and many others had played it
safe and not taken the plunge to quit that
full-time job and go back to school, we’d
be exactly where we were years ago.
We’d never had known how far we
could go, how good we could do, and
our dreams would have slowly
evolved into regrets.
And that’s a version of hell I’d
rather not endure.
