COLUMN: People-watching with Steve
I walked from the library to the Animal Science building Monday afternoon, perhaps a 300-meter walk at most.
I sneezed 23 times.
I never had weather-induced allergies in my younger years, but spending two years in the vegetation landfill of Houston, Texas, has made my nose tend to combust whenever I’m within 400 feet of anything green, furry or otherwise intruding. That includes under-ripe peaches and Oscar the Grouch. Especially Oscar the Grouch.
My daily stroll about campus has been less than exciting due to health constraints, but I can’t say that I necessarily mind it, and not just because I have devised the perfect dimensions to construct a zipline from the roof of the business building to the front steps of a large house in the Island.
Just like I versed last school year in this literary series, I am continually pleased with the overall environment I see at school. Nothing gives me more sense of entertainment than analyzing the very special types of people I see on campus. And as it has been a year since I have done this, I feel it in my conscience and best interest to give a short message of gratitude for those people, for everything you contribute to this rapture-filled university.
Thank you, always-wears-astronomically-huge-headphones-around-his-neck-as-opposed-to-using-them-for-their-intended-purpose guy. Many people hide themselves in their own shells in public, but you find a way to stand out in the best and worst way. There were few in high school who made fun of the spectacle-embossed kids with the chant of “four eyes,” but believe me when I say your prowess, and always impressive Tapout hat, proves no one shall ever label you “four ears.” Your figurative call of defiance and literal call of Nickelback being played loud enough so we can all hear it are our trumpeting anthems for us to make a mark in the world. Thank you, headphones guy, for being you.
A special shout out to the ultimate Frisbee player, who wears a visor and gloves. It is refreshing to see a bystander who takes their job as seriously as you do. The greatest of the greats know there stands no room for just being happy to be there – you have to win, and you have to want to win every day. Your drive to succeed is as progressive as your underarm toss, and almost as accurate. You are an athlete with skill and a role model for all those who have the means to be great but just don’t know the way. It is a privilege to us all, ultimate of ultimate Frisbee hurlers, that you are being you.
A vote of thanks is in order for the business professor who, no matter what the climate or time of day, always manages to have a bagel in hand. I look to you for two things: first, that the world is run with money and success comes to those who manage, and second that no memory is complete without something considerably starchy. The fact that you move along so affirmatively and matter-of-factly and never manage to get cream cheese on your suit is proof enough that you are inspiring others by simply being you.
Thank you, broadcast journalism student who feels as if Old Main never fails as the perfect background. We see you 10 feet in front of a camera – talking about something regarding a club on campus, we’re sure – and we commend you for your efforts. Sure, you could add variety to your backgrounds, but why deviate from the best? It’s those special lessons when we learn simply from you being you.
Finally, to the red-headed communication major I often see at the library listening to Broken Bells in a knitted red and gray peacoat. I just happen to be single and available for food, warm conversation and other planned pleasantries this weekend. I am very kind, approachable and generate a balanced level of heat while cuddling. You know where to find me.
To all those people I missed, thank you for being you. It is your contribution to campus that makes life at USU as good as it is.
We’ll see you around. Don’t forget to bring bagels.
– steve.schwartzman@gmail.com