Bethel University - Spire Yearbook (St Paul, MN)

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“I can’t imagine why you look so spaced from a mere all-nighter,” said my roommate. “I don't want to talk about it,” I muttered. “Right. Well, when’s the paper due?” he persisted. “11:20.” “I don’t have any important classes this morning,” he said. “My typing needs a brush-up anyway.” “You sure?” “Yes,” he said. “I always wanted to know about . . . Aristotilean rhetoric?” “It’s quite interesting,” I said. He threw his pillow at me. “Let’s go out for coffee,” she said, grinning. “I’ve got a test tomorrow! “So do I!” The grin got me. I didn’t want to bother him; it was finals week. “A good jog to the Scm and back could help our concentration,” he said suddenly. He always knew. He listened. And he didn't give patronizing advice. “Now!” We darted out from the bushes by the dorm, dumping water on the enemy. They came after us. We ran. Somehow the door was locked. As we beat on the door, I yelled—“You got me into this!” She laughed and beat harder. Then came the flood. Soaked — and laughing hysterically—we looked at each other. I saw her zest for living... My roommate, cohort and friend.

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Another favorite game, especially among the football players, is “Guess who's ineligible at the end of the year,” or “Is there going to be anybody left to play the offensive line?” (This is pretty much an all-day game and after straining to play it well, the squad is often too exhausted to rehash the latest episode of Charlie's Angels.) Regardless of these trite and insignificant games, coffee-shops in colleges do have value. College is a place for inculcating a little higher learning into out heads, but the coffee shop has given us a chance to escape theory and studenthood and become people again. When we look back at our youth, someday we will turn to our sons standing next to us and say, “Yes, son. 1 learned the most about life back in the coffceshop at venerable Bethel College.” DAN ERICKSON

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For too long the Bethel commuter has gone unnoticed. This comment is devoted to the identification of the “Bethel or bust” 200-400 miles a week, long-haul commuter. At first glimpse, riding in a commuter carpool is slightly akin to riding the Bethel bus. Much time is spent on waiting for your ride and, if you’re the driver, a proportionate amount of time is also wasted on waiting for riders. The carpool driver, much like Bethel’s busdrivers, is often the victim of back-seat driving. (Bus drivers are definitely worse off in this regard, owing to the fact that most buses contain more back seats than the standard commuter Hornet, Vega or Olds.) To fully understand the commuter mindset, you must realize that the commuter’s very life revolves around a phenomen known as “THE GOOD OFTHE POOL.”This view of life is manifested in varying degrees of self-denial on the part of the rider (staying late, leaving early) and over-extension on the part of the driver (dropping people off here, waiting for them there), both of which arc excellent character builders. Few realize exactly what the rigors of day-in, day-out commuting entail. Not only is there the daily ritual of deciding why who sits where when who is driving which car for whatever reason. There are also more definitive questions that need answers, such as: Where should everyone put their lunches, books, etc? How long should the pool wait for members at appointed stops? What is the standard fare and allowed baggage for nonmembers’ weekend jaunts home? All these questions are debated at great length. They, along with the weather, make for great conversation. The topic of weather has purposely been saved for last. You cannot be a commuter in Minnesota without having at least a cursory introduction to windchills and jumper cables. Once a thorough knowledge of different cloud formations and basic meteorology has been acquired, the commuter can battle with Mother Nature to overcome blizzards, sleet and unsaltcd roads at great odds on all but the very worst of days. And on days like those, who among us doesn't wish he could stay at home and be glad he’s a commuter? MARY NORTON