These anecdotes--most of them written by students at Penn State York--were modeled after those John Cage wrote for his collection of essays, Silence (Wesleyan), and spoke for the sound recording, Indeterminacy (Smithsonian/Folkways). The contributors' names are printed at the very bottom of this list.
2. Eric and Wendy used to have these great dinner parties at their apartment. Everyone would sit out on the deck, drinking wine and dipping chunks of bread into fondue. We always talked about the meaning of life at the dinner parties, which seems strange unless you've ever heard Eric's "Theory on Fondue." Eric has this theory that all of the world's mysteries are symbolically related to the mixture of cheeses in a fondue pot. That's just the way Eric is.
This one time though, the conversation ended early. We ended up inside, crowded around the television. Eric and Wendy had one of those cheater boxes so there were over a hundred things to watch. Since Matt, the single guy in the bunch, had the remote control we ended up watching this soft-core porn movie on the Spice Channel.
All of us were hysterically glued to this one scene with these two blondes undressing each other. Even the girls sat still and watched as these two blondes got naked in front of the camera. But when the camera zoomed in on a pair of huge breasts and the other blonde's caressing fingers slowly came into view, all anyone could focus in on was that the blonde with the massaging hands was missing half of a finger.
There it was, this otherwise feminine hand, but with a missing finger, rubbing all over this huge breast. Wendy and Sarah stood up quickly and went to the kitchen and pretended to get more wine. Matt and I just stared at the screen, trying to recall just how much wine we really did drink. It was Eric, in true Eric fashion, who kept inching closer to the television screen.
When the camera finally pulled back and the scene had changed, Eric turned to face everyone. He didn't even realize the girls had moved away.
"Forget the fondue pot," he yelled so the girls in the kitchen could hear. "I think I just solved the mysteries of the world."--BRR
4. My dog, Ben, is one-and-a-half-years old. He is a Labrador Retriever and thinks he is human. One day, I was at my Aunt's house and Ben was outside playing. It got dark, and he was bored. He jumped through an open window of my car to wait. I didn't know he was in the car until I heard my horn beep. I had my cousin go outside to check and see if Ben was in the car. On her way out the door, the horn beeped again. Sure enough, there he was, sitting in the driver's seat. He was ready to go and knew that if he hit the horn someone would come to check on him!--DJD
5. Every year, my father gave...
7. George, the father of a friend of mine, was a State Policeman. Born and raised in Reading, Pennsylvania, he nevertheless worked in York County. One afternoon George pulled a man in a tractor trailer over for speeding. When he asked the man for his license, George noticed that he was from Reading. George was even familiar with the street on which the man lived. He asked the trucker if he lived near the elementary school by the railroad tracks. The man's eyes widened, and he asked, "How did you know that?" George concealed a smile, while he explained, "I know the state inside and out, sir. It's my job." He walked back to his car chuckling to himself.--AJV
9. Kristen and I were walking...
11. It all started when I wanted to buy a small dog. I chose a toy pug because I already had two large basset hounds, and I knew that I needed a sturdy dog with muscles as opposed to a fine boned poodle or terrier. I began to call pug breeders all over the state. A woman in Erie said, "My champion Herbie is the father of two puppies right in your area. While we talked, she said, "My champion Herbie . . . my Herbie . . ." Over and over again about Herbie. Well, I bought Herbie's puppy. I sent her papers to the AKC. When they were returned to me, I found that she was sired by "Herbie the Love Pug."--PVS
12. I have tried...
14. I recently learned how to send electronic mail through virtually any mail system in the world, including a school's mail system. With this knowledge, I decided to play around with my brother's e-mail. I sent him several messages where I manipulated the date, sender, receiver and other fields. One note was dated Dec 31, 1991, with a subject of "quantum leap." His school computer lab wasn't too happy that I used their mail system to send manipulated mail. They shut down his account and had a few choice words for him. Not the least of which was that they would launch an investigation if this "creative programming" continued. He was able to convince them of his innocence, but not before they let him know who sent the mail. Before I could find out how he liked his e-mail, I was about to send him another message. I changed my mind and called him first. His school knew who I was and where I went to school. Thank God I called first. --JTM
15. A few months ago, my brother...
17. Three weeks ago, I bought a puppy for my daughter. Last week, she told me that he was queer. I asked her if she didn't like him anymore, to which she replied "No, that's not it at all. I meant to point out that he fits right into our family. You're queer, I'm queer, Whoopi (our Siamese cat) is queer."
"Yes, we are a strange bunch," I told her, "but someday you may find that those things that make you different are your greatest assets."--JMS
18. One day Jon was riding home from a comic store. He was a boy, no older than 15. On his way home he decided to take a scenic route through a nearby development. To Jon's surprise, a strange man yelled at him, and then began to chase him in a car. Jon was almost crushed by the speeding vehicle, until he swerved his bike into a neighboring yard, where he collided with a bush. Luckily, the owner of the house was a nice person, and she helped Jon recover. (But not before she asked Jon a lot of questions.) Dazed and confused, he mounted his bike and tried his best to make it home. --JH
19. This story...
21. Last year, I was a member of the York High soccer team. While riding the bus to play a rival team, my cousin and I began to talk about our individual achievements during the season. I had scored one more goal than him, and he vowed that he would "even the score" that night. About halfway through the game, the opposing team had control of the ball near our goal. After a long skirmish, the ball erupted into the open, just inches from the goal line. In an attempt to get the ball away from the goal, my cousin kicked it with all his might. It deflected off his foot and into the wrong goal! After the game ended, I walked up to him and said, "Well, you were right. Were're even now." His face turned a deep crimson, and he sprung on me like a cat. --JH
23. At the end of...
24. My sister...
25. A few weeks ago, Christine Minnich had a car accident, and that's why she's home right now with aluminum foil wrapped around her foot. Well, maybe she doesn't have aluminum foil wrapped around her foot right at this moment. But I'll get to that.
....A month ago, Christine was driving to the butcher shop in Dallastown [Pennsylvania] when she suddenly fainted at the wheel. She doesn't know why she fainted. All she knows is one minute she was driving down Main Street and the next she was being pulled from her wrecked car.
....As it was, she was left with a broken right foot.
She had surgery to repair the foot. The doctors installed a metal plate and a rod with six screws to hold her fractured bones together. They closed the L-shaped incision with 36 staples.
It hurt, Christine said. It hurt pretty bad. But a couple of weeks had passed, and she noticed that the pain was subsiding and she was healing. Her foot would be all right.
So, one night, she was lying in bed when her husband, Mark, started up his home computer. It's on a desk in their bedroom. Her foot, which had been feeling better, started to hurt. Pain shot through it, and then suddenly, almost miraculously, went away.
Mark then opened a file, on the computer and the pain came back. He opened a new program, and the pain came back. He stored a file, and the pain came back.
Whenever Mark did something on the computer, it made her foot ache.
It was weird.
At first, she couldn't believe the computer could make her foot hurt. How could the computer hurt her foot? It didn't make any sense. What could the computer possibly do that could make her foot hurt? It wasn't like she dropped the computer on her foot or kicked it or something.
But it was the computer. Whenever the computer was off or when it was on and mark wasn't doing anything with it, her foot was fine. As soon as the computer performed some function, it made her foot hurt.
She called her doctor, who was kind of perplexed by it. Nobody'd ever heard of something like that.
It happens, though. I called a couple of computer places and they said this is how it happens: Computers emit small doses of radio waves and those waves could cause the metal plate and rod and screws in her foot to vibrate. If the plate and screws are vibrating near a nerve, ouch.
But how could she solve this problem?
....Mark had the cure. He works with radio waves and stuff like that in his job with Commonwealth Security Systems. He understands how they work. And he knows that foil can block radio waves. He uses foil to shield electrical circuits that could be affected by radio waves.
....So he wrapped her injured foot in foil. Then he started up the computer and no pain. It worked.
And that's why Christine sits around with her foot wrapped in foil.
....There you have it. Yet another use for Reynold's Wrap (Argento, 1996:C1+). --JM
26. A new priest...
27. On election day, 1992, Aunt Martha--a die-hard Republican--entered the voting booth. She knew she didn't want Bill Clinton as President, but she had a problem choosing between the other two candidates, Bush and Perot. Martha liked them both, and after debating with herself for a couple of minutes, she still couldn't make up her mind. She knew that she had to act quickly. People were lining up outside the booth. Martha decided to close her eyes, reach out a finger, and press a button. Her vote was cast. She opened her eyes, and to her disbelief, her finger was on the button opposite Bill Clinton's name. --GC
28. A football player decides to show off during practice. He hits two guys and knocks them down. He stands up, and looking down toward the source of pain that's annoying him, he realizes that he has dislocated his finger. He plays a little longer, and after practice, he drives to the doctor's office. There, he has to have his finger injected with muscle relaxant, because he waited too long to have it treated. --PDW
29. Not long ago...
30. It was Friday...
31. Once there was an apprentice with an armload of scrolls, who asked of the wizened old sage: "Master what are the harmonies of the Earth?" "Come !" said the teacher, "Bask with me in the Sunlight. Bathe with me in the Moonlight." By the edge of a softly flowing stream, where water-bugs sketched rings among ripples, he sat him down and leaned against the trunk of a willow, whose branches were a stage for a bluebird's song. The master closed his eyes. With great impatience the boy stood, walked in circles, snapped twigs, placed pebbles in piles--blew a blade of grass into music. "I ask you again, Master: What are the harmonies of the Earth?" Without a word the scholar arose, pushed his pupil into the river and watched cat-tails nod in agreement. --SD
32. One evening, while driving...
33. Mike and I were replacing the half-shafts in my Ford Probe, but the parts we had been given wouldn't fit. I had a few errands to run and figured I'd stop by the auto parts store. I asked Mike if I could borrow his motorcycle. I scooted out of the garage, the blue Honda between my legs. After a couple of blocks, the road came to a "T." I pulled the brake. Nothing happened. The only way to avoid serious injury was to lay the bike down. The sandpaper-smooth slide shredded my jeans, but a few minutes later, I pulled back into the shop. As I was getting off the blue deathtrap, Mike walked up and said, "I forgot to tell you. The brakes fade out." "I know," I replied. --SD
34. Mike, Alan, and I had just finished working on my Nova's electrical system. It was time for a shake-down run. We left Dillsburg and flew down to York, Pennsylvania. After passing under the Route 30 Bypass, we pulled up next to a blue Ford Mustang at a stoplight. Alan looked at the driver of the Ford and asked, "Wanna run one?" Engines revved. The light turned green. We shot past the Michigan mare in a plume of tire smoke. Shortly, we were at a red light on Market Street. The blue beast rolled up next to us. Again, we blew its doors off. When the Mustang stopped behind us at the next light, it had a new driver. We rounded the bend onto Philadelphia Avenue, and one last time the frustrated filly tried to best my Nova. Drunks cheered me on from the sidewalk as I sailed to victory at over 100mph. By this time, I had become bored with my unfortunate adversary. We headed back toward Pickletown. On the way, the engine died. The ignition box and coil had fried. We had just started the 5.8 mile walk to my brother's shop, when the Mustang drove past us, honking its horn. --SD
35. When I was in seventh grade, I was a cheerleader for the football team. One day, after school, we were bored to death, waiting for the game to start. We decided to walk to the local store and buy something to drink. On the way, while crossing the street, I got hit by a car, but I was the last to know what had happened. I didn't realize that I'd been hit until I woke up in the middle of the street and saw blood running from my knees and elbows. These parts of my body still have scars. --ESM
36. Nobody would label my high-school chemistry class "racially diverse." There were twenty white kids, a black girl, and an Asian guy. These "other racial" kids had a lot to deal with. Adjusting to a new school year isn't easy for anyone. And for some reason, our chemistry teacher was extra hard on them. For example, on about the second or third day of the semester, the African American got her schedule confused and was late for class. She had a pass, but our teacher wasn't willing to let her in class. She tried to explain, but he wouldn't listen. And the Asian guy? He was hyper, and whenever the teacher was around, he'd goof up and get into trouble. The teacher, on the other hand, made the boy feel like he was an inch tall. After the first week of class, the two students managed to switch to another chemistry class. And a funny thing happened. After those kids left, the teacher never said anything mean to the class for the rest of the year. --ESM
37. One day when I was about four years old, Mom and I were sitting on the porch. She asked me to run an errand for her. I agreed and started walking across the porch. The problem was, I hadn't taken my eyes off Mom. I walked off the end of the porch and landed on the cement sidewalk, flat on my face. --ESM
38. Years ago, at least twice a week, I began shaving my legs. I wish I had known what I was getting myself into. I dreaded the task each and every time it was performed. What did I get out of it? Why did I feel it was necessary? I came to the conclusion that society had convinced me that shaving was an appropriate thing to do. I'm now older and more experienced, yet I still manage to cut myself almost every time I shave. The blade is often dull, and I need to apply more pressure to remove the hair. Not too long ago, I was using a dull razor and cut myself once again, this time deep enough to leave a scar. During the weeks following this incident, I did all I could to avoid aggravating the gruesome scab that was left behind. I now cringe every time I get to the spot where the scar is. I also secretly pray that I am lucky enough to avoid cutting myself that badly in the future. --JMC
39. Always in touch with my natural self, I was wandering around my house in my underwear while my parents were at work. Or so I thought. But when I entered the kitchen, there were my dad and three of his young coworkers. We immediately recognized each other from the office parties (1996:22). --JMC
40. Every other day, my ninth grade, coed gym class met in the small gymnasium crowded with two other classes. Mr. Ruby, my teacher, was a traditional man; some might say he was sexist. He was nice, but he just couldn't see that the males and females were equals. Every class, he split the students into all-male and all-female teams. Female teams played female teams. Male teams played male teams. And every class, I protested and claimed he was being unfair. On many occasions I even claimed that Mr. Ruby was a sexist pig. His response was always the same, "You call it what you want. I call it fair." Girls, he believed, couldn't play up to the level of guys. This infuriated me.
One day, when we were playing hockey, I saw my chance to prove Mr. Ruby wrong. The guys were short a player, so I asked if I could play with them. Mr. Ruby agreed--more because he didn't want to listen to me than anything else. As I walked onto the gym floor, Mr. Ruby reminded me that, if I got hurt, it would be my own doing. As the fifteen minutes passed by, I blew the teachers' beliefs to shreds. I scored six goals.
When the whistle blew, I walked off the floor with my head held high and said, "Girls can't play to the 'level', huh? Then, what was that?" Mr. Ruby didn't address my question or even acknowledge that I had spoken to him. He simply dismissed the class and went into the locker room. The next time our class met, I played with the girls. --JMC
41. Before that fall day, I didn't know how dangerous playing in my own back yard could be. I was with my two friends, Crystal and Nicki. They were sisters. We were out on my swing set, when the two of them started fighting. This was a normal occurrence. I didn't pay them any attention. Crystal got mad, picked up a stick, and threw it at Nicki. Nicki ducked, and as I turned my head, the stick hit my eye. I fell to the ground, while Nicki and Crystal ran home like two bats out of hell. I lay on the ground, crying for minutes. Mom finally heard my cries for help. She drove me to the emergency room. After a tetnus shot and some TLC, I turned out to be fine. Crystal and Nicki are no longer my close friends! --JMC
42. Scars come to us in many different ways. I have one on my left pointer finger. I got it while competing with my brother. We wanted to see who could chop up an orange the fastest with a knife. While cutting my orange, I lost track of how close my finger was to the oncoming blade. I hit the center of the orange and embedded the blade of the knife into my knuckle. Once the bleeding stopped, I realized that I needed to clean up the mess I'd made. It was then that I realized: my brother had never started chopping his orange. --TLF
43. Some years...
45. In 1996...
46. During my last year of high school, my friend, Tony, and I were both in the same gourmet cooking class. He had told me that, by using an eraser, you could erase your skin. I didn't believe him. I thought skin was just too tough to erase. After a little bit of a disagreement, Tony grabbed my hand and placed it palm-down on the table. With the pencil point in the air, Tony began to rub the eraser back and forth against my hand. At first it did nothing, but after a couple of minutes, my hand started to burn. When Tony lifted up the pencil, we saw that my skin was gone. After about two weeks, the burn turned into a scab. Then, the scab formed into a scar. --MG
47. I met Chris the summer of 1991. When we first started talking, we became really great friends. Chris and I did a lot together. Sometimes I hung out at his house; other times, he came over to my house. We went to basketball games together and talked not only in school, but also all night on the phone. As Chris and I got older, we got closer. We were always really great friends but never anything more. All of our friends thought we had to be dating. They never understood that guys and girls can be just friends. --MG
48. If you saw me...
49. When I was in fifth grade, I had a really good friend named Megan. Many people told us that we looked like sisters. Megan already had one sister, but she was many years older. I had three older brothers and no sisters. So Megan and I decided we wanted to be blood sisters, which at that time was the "cool" thing to do. One day, while at school, we went out to the playground and tried to find some way to get blood from each other to rub together. Megan found a tiny scab on her arm, and I found a huge scab on my elbow. I was trying to peel off some of my scab, but it wasn't working. Then, one of our friends, Tina, started running up the hill right at Megan and me. Tina was laughing and not watching where she was going. When she got to the top of the hill, she ran right into me, hit my elbow with her tooth, and fell to the ground. My scab came off and blood trickled down my arm. I wiped some off with my finger, and Megan squeezed some blood from her scab. We rubbed our blood together and have been blood sisters ever since. --MG
51. Two years...
52. For about two-and-a-half years, I've worked at small restaurant. While there, I have seen many employees quarrel and whine, but I have never seen the kind of petty bickering that I see nightly between two of our cooks. At times, Wanda seems like she just doesn't care. Alice, on the other hand, is a perfectionist, who always tries to make everybody happy. A few nights ago, Alice and I were talking. She told me that, however hard she's tried to be nice to Wanda, it doesn't work. Alice say she's now frustrated, ready at every chance to make Wanda's life miserable. I looked at her and asked, "Since when do two wrongs make a right?" --SRD
53. Mom was on the way to work. "Hop in the car," she said. "Let's go to the babysitter's." After much arguing, she allowed me to ride my bike, but only if she could follow. I agreed. So, I zoomed down a steep hill on a relatively old bike. I felt like I was flying. I was--after the fork broke. It jammed into the frame, coming to a halt. My foward momentum sent me flying over the handlebars. Upon landing on the tarred and chipped road, I collected several cuts, scrapes, bruises, and not to mention a gash in the area between my nose and upper lip. Mom did not see what happened, but as she got closer, she got the idea. She came to a screeching halt, got out, and threw me into the car for a trip to the hospital. All I remember on the way to the hospital is my mind replaying the incident. --JAF
55. When I worked on a construction site over the summer, the carpenters always took their time doing one thing--measuring. I questioned one of them about this practice. He said, "Measure twice. Cut once." --JAF
56. Back in the summer between seventh and eighth grade, I went to Hartman Center, a church camp about forty-five minutes from State College, Pennsylvania. This camp was broken into many smaller camps, and I was in Jr. High Sports Camp. One day, before playing a scrimmage game, a bunch of us started to pass the ball around, showing each other what skills we had. I decided to challenge one counselor while he had the ball. I went after him, pretending I'd gone crazy, but I guess nobody else knew I was joking. After a couple of seconds, the counselor yelled, "Man, you've gone psycho!" Ever since, that nickname has stuck with me. --JAF
57. Early in the fall of 1995, my grandfather passed away. Instead of accompanying my family to Virginia and attending the funeral, I decided to stay home and grieve in solitude. I spent most of the time alone, trying to push my feelings aside. On the day of the funeral, though, I finally lost control. To tell the truth, I really don't know exactly what happened. I got up from were I was sitting, walked over to the mirror, and slammed my fist into it. I created a mess of shattered glass on the floor and a small scar on my hand, left there as a reminder of what can happen when I lose control of my emotions. --DO
58. For as long as I can remember, I've drawn, whether it was little doodles on the sides of my notes, or detailed full-page drawings of daggers and skulls. Basically, I entertained myself when I was bored. One day, when I was in the eighth grade, I was sitting in study hall drawing on a piece of scrap paper. I had been drawing several different figures, but one caused an impressive amount of trouble for me. My art work caught the eye of the substitute teacher--one with a very big attitude problem. I received three days of internal suspension for drawing and handing out inappropriate material: a hand with the middle finger extended. Now whether or not the material was or wasn't appropriate I cannot say, but it probably wasn't. The truth is that I wasn't going to distribute the drawing. I planned to throw it away, because it was sloppy and not worth keeping. But no matter how many times I told my side of the story, no one would believe me. I was just some kid with a history of causing trouble. Then and there, I learned that, no matter how wrong they are, people in authority are always right. --DO
59. One day...
60. When I was younger, I joined The Raiders' Club of York. Besides me, there were five members under seventeen, while the youngest adult member was ten years older than any of us. At times the club took suggestions about ways to help other organizations or what trips to take. Every suggestion given was good--like the idea to go to the Pro-Bowl--but it seemed that the ideas that the five of us came up with were never really considered. Although we belonged to the club, we were just kids to the rest of the members. --PM
61. For some reason unknown to me, I seem to get into trouble when I visit the mall. One time, I walked into a store and asked where the lingerie in my size was kept. Apparently the clerks aren't used to guys doing that. Another time, while wearing all black, I walked in with a briefcase that I left under a bench for a friend. The people at the mall appeared uptight. They don't understand it when someone is just goofing around. --PM
62. Late one night General Lee had occasion to go into a tent where several officers were sitting around a table, on which was a stone jug and two tin cups. The officers were busily engaged in the discussion of a mathematical problem. The General obtained the information he desired, gave a solution to the problem, and retired. The officers hoped he had not noticed the jug. The next day, one of these officers, in the presence of others, related to General Lee a very strange dream he had the night before. "That is not at all surprising," replied the General. "When young gentleman discuss, at midnight, mathematical problems, the unknown quantities of which are a stone jug and two tin cups, they may expect to have strange dreams" (Gowan, 1983:15).--PM
63. On Sunday evenings my mother would pick me up from my father's house and take me home. One time she told me she had a surprise waiting for me in my bedroom. No sooner did we pull into the driveway than I was in the house and then in my room. My surprise was a big, oak dresser with a vanity mirror. I loved it. I was so excited. Just then, having heard the commotion, my grandmother emerged from wherever she was and greeted me. "Well, hello there. How was your visit with your father?" she asked. "Fine," I replied. "Hey, did you say 'Hello' to your puppies?" "Oh! Not yet," I said as I ran down the steps to go outside. As I ran out the door and slammed it behind me to greet my barking, tail-wagging dogs, a sharp pain stopped me dead in my tracks, and the sight of blood drove me back in the house and up to my mother. A little hysteria, an ambulance ride, and a few stitches later, I was left with a V-shaped scar on the middle finger of my left hand. --RKG
64. A graduate student was taking his final oral exam for a Ph.D degree in psychology. He had answered without difficulty many questions, most of them about animal behavior, his specialty. Then one member of the committee asked, "How far can an ant see?" The student suddenly turned pale. He did not know the answer, and evidently he was supposed to know it. Quickly, the poor graduate student mentally reviewed everything he had read about the compound eyes of insects. He remembered reading about how insects can detect light and about their color vision and their ability to detect movement . . . but nothing about how far they can see. Finally, he gave up and admitted he did not know. With an impish grin, the professor told him, "Presumably, an ant can see 93 million miles--the distance from the earth to the sun" (Kalat, 1995:179). --RKG
65. I am a server (the politically correct equivalent of waitress) at a casual dining restaurant in Hanover, Pennsylvania. When I started, I worked on a few assumptions when it came time to inquire if my customers were ready for their check. For example, it was not necessary and even in some cases mildly insulting to ask an elderly couple if they would like their checks together of separate. Ninety-nine percent of the time they are together. Vice versa, when business people dine out for lunch, the common practice is to ask. Often they will split their check or perhaps one person will graciously "treat" the others. One day I was waiting on a couple of business people, two men and a woman. When the time came, I asked, unaware that my attention was directed toward the men. "Is this all together?" I asked. Then, glancing at the woman, I added, "Or would you like me to split your checks?" The woman stated in a cool, commanding voice, "It's all together, and it's to me." I replied with an impish, "Okay, I'll be back in a moment." --RKG
66. One day a pre-teenage young lady decided to eat her lunch outside to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. She was listening to the bird chirping and the breeze in the trees when, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar spider slowly inching towards her. She pretended not to notice and hummed a little tune out loud while she continued to eat her lunch. All the while she watched it, waiting for it to make its move. When it finally did, she screamed pretending to be frightened and "accidentally" stepped on it in her panicked state. The wounded spider feebly crawled away. --RKG
67. When I...
68. While in the sixth grade, I attended a boring party. I decided to liven things up by doing something crazy. I thought for a while and then came to a decision. I got down on the floor, on my hands and knees, and began to crawl around. This wasn't getting enough attention so I began to snort like a pig. One by one people began to turn around and look at me. Then I started crawling very quickly, while snorting like a pig. Everyone began to laugh and have a good time, at my expense of course. --JP
70. On Friday night, October 1, 1993, 12-year-old Polly Klaas was abducted from her bedroom in Petaluma, California, while she was having a sleep-over party with two of her best friends.
A massive search was launched, involving close to 4,000 volunteers. But not even those tremendous efforts could save Polly. Almost two months later, on November 30, police arrested Richard Allen Davis, a career criminal. On December 4, he led the police to Polly's body. She had been strangled (Hoyt, 1994:46). --MO
71. I work...
72. Shanon Krout was a freshman entering high school. She was a member of the band, the student council, and the J.V. football team. Yes, she was the only girl on the team. Most of the girls at school admired Shannon, but some thought she wanted attention and wouldn't pay any attention to her. The guys on the J.V. team grew to like her. But getting along with the players was not Shannon's problem. The coach was. Shannon never started a game and hardly ever got any playing time at all. And the coach always made her run extra laps or do some kind of extra workout. He figured the more work he gave her, the greater the chance that she'd quit the team. Shanon knew the coach wasn't fair, but she decided to ignore him and continue to play. Everything was going well, until one day Shanon and the coach got into a huge fight. She ending up turning in her uniform and quiting the team. Her coach finally got his wish: a girl off his team. --MO
73. One weekend...
75. "Why's the steering wheel on the wrong side?" was the young ladies' reaction to the Chrysler-badged Neon. "Actually, it's on the right side," I deadpanned, noting their reaction to the British accent and getting a good impression of how a man from Mars might be greeted should his spacecraft land in Fargo, North Dakota. "But the left side's the right side," one of them puzzled. "Where I come from, the right side's the right side," I said. "What could be more logical?" --SCL
79. The guy...
80. As I was blossoming into a young woman, the fights between my mother and me also blossomed. We argued constantly, and I lost all the battles. She was the mother, and I was the child. Mom finish every fight by saying "While you're living under my roof, you will obey the rules that I set forth." Or she said, " When you're able to live by yourself and pay your own bills, then you can do whatever you want. Until then, you'll do whatever I tell you to do!"
One day, my mother and I had a huge argument that ended with her telling me that I couldn't go to a Halloween party. I ran to my bedroom and stayed there until nightfall. Around 7:00 I got dressed and went downstairs. Mother was sitting in the living room watching a movie, as I passed her on the way to the door. I was just about to walk out, when she asked, "Where do you think you're going?" "To the party," I replied. We began to argue. She began to recite her usual lines, when I screamed, "Bitch!" SMACK! --YAK
83. Seventy days after Ronald Reagan was sworn in as President of the United States, on March 30, 1981, Ronnie was giving a speech at a hotel, when suddenly there was a shooting. Several men were rushed to the hospital, including the President, Ronald Reagan. As President Reagan later entered surgery to have a bullet wound operated on, he looked up at the doctors, and said in his usual joking tone, "Please tell me you are all Republicans" (Reagan, 1989:n.p.). --LLB
84. About a year...
85. Recently, while my parents were out of town, Sarah stayed with me. We stayed up until about midnight, watching movies and talking. Finally, we agreed that it was time to prepare for bed. Sarah went into the bathroom to brush her teeth but found no toothpaste. We were out. "I can't go to bed without brushing my teeth!" Sarah said. So, still wearing our pajamas, we hopped in the car and drove to Festival Foods--just to buy a tube of toothpaste. For us, clean teeth are a priority! --LLB
87. There was a girl who wanted to try out for the soccer team. The coach, however, said she couldn't. Angered by the coach's sexism, a group of kids got together and protested. The coach was practically forced to reverse his decision. The girl went to try outs and successfully met all the requirements needed to make the team. But this didn't matter to the coach. He literally paid no attention to her tryout and denied her a position on the team. He "explained," "It just won't work." --MG
88. When I was younger and in Girl Scouts, I was a wise-cracker. I would get everyone in trouble. I enjoyed playing mind games with people. One time a group of us were walking down a dark street. I decided to run ahead of everyone. I hid behind a pole and waited until my friends neared me. As my friend's passed by, I jumped out from behind the pole and yelled. Everyone was shock and scared. I wasn't the most popular person at that moment, but I sure enjoyed the laugh. --MG
89. I was only four years old in 1980, when I got the first scar on my right shoulder. It came from the vaccination shots at the Children's hospital in Peru. The needles in Peru are about four-inches long and as thick as bobby-pins! After my first shot, I had to go back to the hospital every Saturday for five weeks for more shots. My father would take me, and every Saturday I tried to hide from him. It didn't work! But my father was very understanding about my fear of needles. He knew how to calm me down by bribing me with treats such as Peruvian cookies and popcorn. Today, I'm still afraid of needles. --DEC
90. While I was in school, I participated in cross country. Before and after every practice, my friends and I goofed off. Of course, our coach did not approve. He always thought that we were going to get hurt, and not be able to compete. But we did not care. One day, we were goofing off like we always did, playing with red, hard, rubber balls that were the size of tennis balls. We were throwing them around in the gymnasium. Coach came by and shouted, "Put them damn things away! Goofing off is all fun and games, until someone gets hurt." Well, that particular someone was our coach. One of our teammates threw the ball, and a second later after coach had stopped shouting at us, it hit him in the eye. We all started to laugh--except Coach. He was really angry, but he got the last laugh. As punishment, he made us run 10.5 miles. And that was no fun. --DEC
91. A Donkey after having heard some Grasshoppers chirping, was highly enchanted. Desiring to possess the same charms of melody, he demanded what sort of food they lived on to give them such beautiful voices. They replied, "The dew." The Donkey resolved that he would live only upon dew, and in a short time died of hunger (Aesop, 1986).--DMT
93. I was once a shy, awkward little girl who desperately wanted to become a cheerleader someday. Finally, the day came when I was old enough to try out for the cheerleading squad. I practiced my routines carefully. I tried my hardest to make the squad, but when the roster was posted, my name was not on it. I cried and cried some more. The next time tryouts rolled around, I again practiced the routines and tried very hard. Once again, when the roster was posted, my name was not on it. This time, however, I vowed and declared that I was going to keep trying out until the judges got tired of seeing me. The next time tryout time came around, I practiced harder than I ever had before. This time, when the roster was posted, there was my name staring back at me. --DMT
94. Throughout my teenage years, I worked at a local grocery store, we'll call Food World. The owners, John and Pam, oversaw everything at Food World. There were many ever-so-faithful employees who carried out the owners' many wishes--among them, their son, Joe. The employees slaved away, day and night, trying to satisfy the high demands of the owners. However, the only work acknowledged was Joe's. The work of the other employees never quite measured up to that done by the owners' son. Eventually, the employees had a revelation. Joe never had to grovel for a day off from work. He could take off work for idiotic reasons, such as a football game on television. And if Joe did not get off work, then he could be found getting paid to watch the game in the break room. It was different with the rest of us. The moment we were found watching television on company time, we were promptly reprimanded. Joe could also take anything from the store shelves without having to justify his actions. I'll bet I saw hundreds of dollars in baseball cards walk out that door, without being paid for. The rest of the employees, however, were carefully watched over as if we were all thieves. Most importantly, we realized that we were doing a lot of Joe's work for him. If there was something that he did not want to do, he simply did not do it. He would slyly bribe one of us into doing it for him. If his parents ever questioned his behavior, he cunningly told them that we had offered to do it for him. Then he'd get this little smirk on his face and walk away. --DMT
Lori Barker (LLB), Melissa Benner (MB), Jennifer Bryer (JB), Carol Bury (CB), David Cajas (DEC), Glen Croman (GC), Jill Cunningham (JMC), Shanna Daugherty (SRD), Scott Deibler (SDD), Deb Doty (DD), Travis Farmer (TLF), Jeremy Fishel (JAF), Malissa George (MMG), Rachel Goldsmith (RKG), Megan Gouker (MG), David Harget (DH), Justin Hartmann (JH), Dan Heuer (DH), Jon Hoover (JH), Bessie Kapsalis (BK), Young Ae Kim (YAK), Stephen Lesher (SCL), Lucilla Lower (LL), Justin L. McDaniel (JLM), John McDowell (JM), Emily Miller (ESM), Peter Musser (PM), Kathleen O'Dean (KO), Dan Ossa (DO), Maria Ovide (MLO), Jennifer Pitz (JP), Barry Rauhauser (BR), Jodi Sheetz (JS), Rebecca Silver (RS), Petie Sterner (PS), Danielle Thomas (DMT), Amity Vandersloot (AV), Paul D. Walterick (PDW).