Hot Breath (Edited May 1st)

It was a summer’s day like any other in the year of 1997. The sun was shining and a persistent heat was invading the lungs, mouth, and nostrils of anyone outside. Among these adventurous types were myself, a short and fast nine year old, and my neighbor, Jimmy, who was a year younger and a foot shorter. Jimmy was an only child, so he was familiar with getting everything and anything he wanted. This was precisely the reason we were playing home run derby. If the decision were up to me, we would be in the pool.
As James spouted off some incredibly over the top introduction of himself as his favorite baseball player: “And now! from Pequannock, New Jersey!! the best player of all time!!! Derek Jeter!!!!” I sighed in a hot sweaty movement: “sigh.”
I threw the pitch slightly on the left side of the plate, Jimmy didn’t swing. He threw the ball back, and I tossed the ball to him a second time. Once again, no swing. This continued another time before Jimmy decided he liked the pitch I had delivered and he swung. The bat connected with the ball half heartedly and slowly rolled toward a tree. I hadn’t expected any great show of athleticism, and I was not surprised. After Jimmy struck out on the next pitch, I approached home plate. My strategy was simple. Swing at every pitch and get this game over with as soon as possible.
As Jimmy threw the first pitch I wound up and hit the ball much farther than he had. The ball sailed past his property line and bounced on the neighbor’s lawn. As I rounded third base I realized Jimmy was not retrieving the ball which was now rolling down the street. Once again, because of him being incredibly spoiled, he refused to get the ball, even though, as mandated by the rules, it was his responsibility to do so. Once again, in an over the top fashion, Jimmy threw a temper tantrum. In order to avoid a complete meltdown I decided to get the ball.
I slowly walked down the street, thoroughly enjoying my time away from Jimmy. As I stooped to pick up the ball I heard someone’s car keys jingling as they came out of the house. I looked sideways with my head remaining close to the ground and saw our neighbor’s Springer Spaniel bounding its way toward me from its back yard prison. This dog, Scooby, remains locked up in his small fenced in area everyday… except for today. With his new freedom he could do any number of things. Unfortunately he decided to charge directly at me with his floppy ears dangling at his sides, his tail swinging back and forth, and his sharp teeth dripping with saliva.
Completely forgetting about the ball in my hand I stood up immediately and yelled at the top of my lungs. Scooby was running full speed toward me and the distance was closing quickly. My fight or flight senses kicked in, and I ran for it. My brain wasn’t working correctly and I ran in a circle, still yelling as loud as I could. Scooby was close behind me and even on this warm day I could feel his hot breath on my ankles as I ran, terrified for my life. As I rounded turn three for the second time I saw my savior: a row of shrubbery lining the property line of two houses. I took my chance and dove over the hedges. Unfortunately in my panic I had forgotten about the jagged rocks on the other side of the greenery. In my adrenaline fueled escape I jumped much higher than needed and I landed harshly on my hands and knees un-followed by the menace. As I peered up I saw Scooby lose interest in the pursuit, now that his prey was out of reach, and become interested in something else.
As he trotted away, I stood up and brushed myself off to notice Jimmy cowering in fear inside his house. His eyes were just above the metal strip dividing the lower half of the door, which was made of glass, and the top half which was made of a metal mesh. As I picked up the ball I had flung from my hand as the chase began, Jimmy exited his sanctuary with his hands still shaking. I walked over to his house and flipped the ball to him: “We should have gone swimming.”

Seven Bars (Edited May 1st)

What’s up my name is André
I’m the “corporate guy” in this squad.
You can bet when I graduate
I'mma get a job.

I pronounce my Es and Rs
‘Cause I’m an English Major.
Next time I show up for class
I'mma wear a blazer.

I’ve brought my teaching skills
All over the world,
Like this winter in Thailand,
When visiting My Girl.

President of the Ping Pong Club,
Yeah my skills are nice.
I played in some tournaments
and I’ve even won twice.

I’m not ‘Lil Wayne,
I don’t push twenty fours
I’m not Mistah F.A.B.,
I don’t ride with open doors.

You can see me in my whip
It’s nice with all black trim.
I’ll be sittin’ on twenties
‘Cause I won’t ride teenage rims.

I’ll be scrapin’ in the U
Yeah I’m from the 315
All the haters will be hatin’
When they see me passin’ by.

An Abomination (Edited May 1st)

André Short: Contributing Writer
Cortland-
As a resident on campus, I always enjoy seeing a group of prospective students and their families touring SUNY Cortland. The young, wide eyed teens traversing through campus remind all of us of our visit. And doing this in the winter, braving the elements, gives these high school seniors more credit. On these tours, it is the job of a current SUNY Cortland student to show those on the tour (students and parents alike) our “beautiful” campus. Yet, I wonder if they are seeing everything on the campus tour that I am as a current student?
As a tour guide, Cortland students are instructed to paint a picture of beauty on our campus. They are able to do this; however, if the people being escorted around are the slightest bit observant, they will notice our campus is not exactly what is being presented.
I would be slightly embarrassed to be leading one of these tours -and I am very embarrassed- to think they may notice a few of the eyesores in between the stops they make on the tour.

Upon returning to campus around the end of January, I had noticed the L.E.D. display board outside of Corey Union was still wishing us “Happy Holidays.” Christmas was over a month ago, Hanukkah was even further away. After this message had scrolled away a message for those touring our campus appeared. “Welcome Familys” was now shining bright. Doesn’t that thing have a spell checker? What kind of message is being sent to the tour groups as they read this? Higher education doesn’t immediately come to mind.
Each day I walk along Neubig Road I notice blue tape lining the way, no matter what side I am on. This tape is left over from August twenty-first, move in day. It was placed there to help incoming students move their belongings into their new dormitories. It has been almost six complete months since we needed this tape; why does it remain in its place serving no purpose? Perhaps the Resident Assistants in the surrounding buildings forgot about it. Perhaps they were hoping the snow plows would clear it away as the first snow fell. Perhaps they were looking farther into the future, trying to “Go Green” and reuse this tape next August. Unfortunately the entire student body and perhaps even the admissions office are suffering from this indolence.

I have consciously walked past the tape each day for the past seventeen weeks. How many other students have done the same thing? I have decided to not take it upon myself to peel this tape away from the sidewalk in order to conduct a social experiment. Unfortunately, the subjects of this experiment, the students at SUNY Cortland, are failing miserably. Will anyone take it upon themselves to clean up this mess? It is already very evident that the parties responsible for it have moved on. Perhaps now, after this article has been published, someone on this campus of over four thousand students will take it upon themselves to clean up this eyesore. They will do this not only for themselves, but their fellow students, and the potential future students of our school as well.

The Attack (Edited May 1st)

I ascended the stairs to my room to search for a semi-important piece of paper. I was filling out paperwork for a W-2 form to work in a local schools district, and needed to provide a copy of my drivers’ license and social security card. It was a lazy Sunday evening and the sunlight was filtering into my room through the tree branches and my window. I wasn’t thinking of the hidden danger as I began to locate this paper.
I located the photocopy after a few minutes of searching; however, I had created a slight mess of things in the process. I had to clean things up before returning to the forms. It was at this time I could have noticed the menacing threats that would soon be attacking me. Unfortunately I was no longer focused on the beauty of the strained sunlight, my only ally trying to warn me. As I turned pages over and shifted things on my desk, thousands of tiny warriors were deployed to attack me. Had I looked up at this moment I would have seen the beautiful, yet menacing dust particles looming dangerously in the shining sun. I had no idea, but a war was being fought, and I was losing.
I calmly and unknowingly continued to organize and arrange my room. As I finished one area, I moved on to another to organize and sort more dust covered items. Due to my lack of constant upkeep of this duty, I was able to keep at this task for over thirty minutes. The entire time, my nose was fighting a losing battle.
As I left my room with the important documentation in my hand, I felt a sense of pride, knowing I had cleaned my room (a task that would not be done again for another week or two). I walked back down the stairs to return to the paperwork that I had placed on the kitchen table. I added the photocopy to the two other papers, folded them, and placed them in the envelope.
I had forgotten to grab a return address label from my room, so I dashed up the stairs once more, in a hurry to complete this simple task. Suddenly, a violent sneeze erupted! My nose began to tingle afterward. This was odd... My seasonal allergies only pertain to spring and fall, not winter. My nose would not be tingling if this were a normal sneeze. I rounded the corner in the hall way and entered my room. It was then that I saw them: the countless tiny dust particles floating in my room. The same dust particles that were silently attacking my nose as I was organizing and cleaning just seconds earlier.
I knew I was in for a rough night. Even after I took my allergy medication, the sneezes kept coming. I had no choice but to wait for the dust to give up. I had lost this battle, but the Zyrtek I had just taken was going to win the war.