Wesleyan University - Olla Podrida Yearbook (Middletown, CT)

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UUUUU, MEEE.

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Here I sit again on the steps of Olin. The sky is crystal blue and my book is open in my lap, my back against a column. Here in the steps of Olin lies the middle ground between work and play. I perch my shades against my nose e cool - and lay back into the sunshine. My fin- ger marks a word mid-sentence- I'll get back to it . . . after I watch the frosh on the way to check their mail, after I contemplate the trac- tor ripping up the lawn, after I stop the friend who's walking by to talk. Here on the steps of Olin are all of the plea- sures and none of the guilt: the frozen yogurt of mental life. My head hits marble as I lean into the blue el have plenty of time to do this reading. It's just too nice outside to be inside, and my proximity to the stacks marks my dili- gence, we all know. I'm really at the libraryl can say I was here all day. I pick up my book and hold it in my view: it blocks sci-li from this perspective but the breeze makes up for it for sure. by M.H. Newberger

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Hello, my name is Ed and l . . . lwatch llDays of Our Lives. What started out 2 V2 years ago as casual T.V. watching quickly turned into a gruesome addiction that not only consumed my life but the lives of my friends around me. It was towards the end of the fall semester my sophomore year when people like Patch, Kayla and Victor Kiriakis came into my life. For the first few weeks a glance at the T.V. was all I gave. Soon afterl became acquainted with the characters and began watching everyday. Such personal activity would have been okay but soon I looked to my friends to spread this sickness. My friends, like most Wesleyan students, were easy prey for brain dead soap operas. Although they tried to resist, eventually they were asking me such questions as llDid Kim kill Emma? and Hls Victor the father? They were hooked. All I had to do was reel them in. Unfortunately, I didn't stop there. My VCR enabled me to view every episode regard- less of my classes or vacations. Probably my greatest thrill of 1988 was not my let birth- day, but meeting and taking a picture of Jo Johnson. A minor character, but still a star in my eyes. By that point nothing else mattered. Myjob, school, my friends, they all seemed unimpor- tant compared to life in Salem. I began spend- ing more and more in the magazine section at Waldbaumls reading Soap Opera Digest. I had hit rock bottom. Although it has taken several months of electrical shock therapy, I am well on the road to recovery. 1 still occasionally watch tlDays on a Friday but I have packed away my VCR and cancelled by subscription to Soap Opera Digest. As students, we often feel that at Wesleyan we are protected from such evils of society. To younger Wesleyan students, heed my warning, Stay away from soap operas. They don't create dreams, they destroy them. No matter how harmless they appear, even if it seems like lteveryone is doing it, if someone offers to change the channel to a soap opera, for God's sake JUST SAY NO! e by Ed Thorndike