Westminster College - Argo Yearbook (New Wilmington, PA)

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Battling the Gorfian Empire Dave Farner maneuvers for position. Galactic Warrior, Sam Seltzer plays video games to strengthen hand-eye co- ordination. R Nelu GBtne Pac Man Fever driving me crazy ... Colorful, luminescent blobs scuttled across a screen in pursuit of a munchy little yellow mouth that consumed line after line of pink dots. Shadow, speedy, bashful and pokey were after the Pac-Man, and with joy-stick in hand, you determined his fate. While he fed upon ghosts, strawberries and cherries, you fed quarters into the slot that launched him into life — and you just couldn ' t stop. But fear not. You weren ' t alone in your mania. When video games drew you into their world of visual isolation, you actually joined a larger community of video game addicts. Gordon Nash put $5.00 a week into the alluring machines to pass the time. Dean Pettrucci allotted $20.00 per week for video games. Who could measure the return on his investment? Who could say how we would answer when the video games called? The evil Gorfian Empire has attacked. Your mission is to repel the invasion ... You were told that Gorfian robots are unbeatable. 24 Video Games

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Good things come in Small Boxes The distress signal lias been sent: Things are getting worse — send chocolate. I stand by my box, anticipating a reply. An anonymous hand thrusts a scrap of white paper into the slot. Care package at desk. Ah, I knew Mom would come through for me! Mmmm! Chocolate chip cookies. With lots of chips, too. That ' s good. Let ' s see what else she ' s packed in here . . . mail sent to my home address, a Reader ' s Digest sweep- stakes entry worth $10,000, (better send that off right away!) . . . junk mail . . . bank statements . . . $peaking of which, let$ $ee if Dad got the hint in my last letter from my $ubtle, $ubliminal $uggestions. Yes, he has. Very generously. Ah, what ' s this? Dad actually took pen in hand and wrote me a note. The cavalry always comes through! We ' re rooting for you on the ho- mefront. Study hard. Thanks, Dad. Thanks Mom . . . you ' ve definitely made things better. There is an almost magical quality about getting mail. It tells you that someone cares, that someone is thinking about you, or that someone wants your money to pay a bill. Scott Blome buys stamps from Beth Wood in the mail room. Sneaking a taste, Gregg Rabenold snacks on cookies from home. Communication from the outside world, winging its way to your doorstep via the friendly little mailman who carries his bag full of goodies over his shoulder like the Santa Claus of correspondence, can brighten up even the rainiest Westminster day. Of course, one must remember the Golden Rule of letter writing: He who sends, shall receive. The only mail you get without writing first usually comes from mail order clearing houses or some branch of the armed services urging you to be all that you can be in an underdevel- oped corner of a Central American country. But let ' s face it, as a college student it ' s tough to get motivated to sit down and write a letter. Picking up a pen to write a cheerful, newsy letter after you ' ve just finished a fifteen page opus on the influence of Teutonic hairstyles on modern America is hard enough, and the added effort of scrounging up a stamp that is still valid can be cause enough to abort the entire mission. Yet, even if you do have to break down and write in order to get a letter, the joy of peering into your little slot and seeing a plump envelope bursting with news and good wishes is well worth the effort. [B Cheryl Geruldsen Shelley Davies Mail 23

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Furiously zapping spaceships Gordon Nash saves his humanoids. J.R. Miller gobbles ghosts as Jeff Davis looks on. □f UuartErs You will meet a Gorfian doom Space Captain as you journeyed toward a dramatic confrontation with the enemy flagship. One slip, and you were devastated. Some galactic defender you are, Space Captain as the image of your ship crumbled into little beads of light and disintegrated on the screen. You were mesmerized. You couldn ' t resist. You moved along the wall of stand-up coin consumers looking for another game. You read the screens. Frogger — 200 points for escorting a lady frog home — and you heard laughter ringing out from the electronic bellies of the Black Knights. Will you come and challenge the Black Knights again? Where could you turn? How would you manage this mania? The answer was simple. Insert coin and prepare yourself for the alien space cadets. H Jennifer Sutter