The Independent Voice of Southern Methodist University Since 1915

The Daily Campus

The Daily Campus

The Independent Voice of Southern Methodist University Since 1915

The Daily Campus

The Independent Voice of Southern Methodist University Since 1915

The Daily Campus

SMU professor Susanne Scholz in the West Bank in 2018.
SMU professor to return to campus after being trapped in Gaza for 12 years
Sara Hummadi, Video Editor • May 18, 2024
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Dedicated to the Alumni

Ruminations
 Dedicated to the Alumni
Dedicated to the Alumni

Dedicated to the Alumni

Oh, I bet you were hoping I was fired. No, I’ve just beenslacking a little on my writing. To make up for not having anarticle last week, there will be two this week.

What do you call sitting around, stuffing little pieces oftissue paper into a fence? Here at SMU, we call that Homecomingweek. It’s so cute seeing all the boys with their tool belts.I can tell building stuff excites them.

It was the night before the float-building deadline, and I wasin charge of coming up with a way to make confetti shoot out of anoil-rig. For an engineer, that should be no problem, right? It wasan hour before Home Depot was about to close, and I was trying toput together an air pressure cannon. I came back with a funnel anda 10-foot tube, and my Homecoming chairperson said, “Soyou’re making a beer bong?”

That was one of those moments where you stop to reflect, and youcan’t help but wonder, where was my mind at that moment? Itwas almost like a Freudian slip. But instead of sex, it’salcohol.

I missed the Homecoming parade due to a most unfortunateincident. I got into a car accident. It wasn’t my faultentirely. It was one of those accidents where someone’sstupidity led to my fault.

It’s one of those slight complications that you justdon’t need among the many things going on in your life. In abrief moment of reflection, I threw my hands into the air andthought to myself, real funny, God. Real funny.

Here’s the replay: I made a right turn at a four-way stop,and the person in front of me decided right then and there to stop.So naturally, BAM! The funny thing is, it was an alumnus that Ihit. She came all the way from Maryland, and that was my way ofsaying, “Welcome back!”

The force of impact from an SUV is quite powerful, as I foundout. A little bump, and her Chevy Cavalier got pushed halfway ontothe curb. Ramming other, smaller cars — that’s justanother reason I drive an SUV, besides running over curbs and smallschool children.

Poor Rosita. She’s been banged up pretty badly. Firsthail, now this. There are pieces of the right fender hanging on bysome glue. I bent the grill pretty good. The container for thewiper fluid got punctured, so now I have no wiper fluid. If I findmyself driving behind a mudslinging 18-wheeler, I’mscrewed.

After all that, I was still able to make it to the game. It wasquite an exciting one, and the team spanked up on those Hurricanes.Congratulations, boys!

It wasn’t until Sunday that I began to feel the backlashesof the accident. I was bedridden the entire day, so I had to do mywork from bed. It wasn’t a bad gig. I should get intoaccidents more often. Painkillers have become my best friends. Thesad and honest truth is, I’m more worried about the car thanI am about myself, which should never be the case.

But enough about my weekend. It was a long and arduous one, andI look forward to an even longer week. Maybe at the end of thisone, I’ll be able to get Rosita fixed up. She’s indesperate need of a nose job.

It’s hard to believe that this is my last Homecoming. Ieven shed a tear. No more float-building until the wee hours of themorning. No more kick-off ceremonies and spirit points. No moretailgating. It’s the working world now, and that world is acruel place. I guess there are always opportunities to return as analumnus. Walking down the Boulevard, I see all those hardcorealumni who have their own tents and TVs set up. It’s greatand all, but I stop to wonder if some just haven’t outlivedtheir college days.

What a way to spend a Saturday with one’s family. When Icome back, I’ll have my fleet of giblets, all bearing SMUgear and the Mustang painted on their cheeks. It’d be aninteresting spectacle if my husband turned out to be a TCU alumnus.I’ll make the kids wear those “TCU Sucks” shirtsjust to spite him. I’ll try not to let that happen, though.I’ll try to marry my own kind so that my kids are 200 percentMustangs.

I wonder what you would get when you try to create some HornyToad/Peruna hybrid.

Hopefully when I come back, I won’t be rear-ended by someyoung, pretentious student in her SUV, with her LaCoste polo, Sevenjeans, Coach or Louis bag bearing some sorority button, talking onher cell phone.

 

Ann Truong is a senior math and electrical engineering doublemajor. She may be contacted at [email protected].

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