Voice from he 11...
Robert Caton
Cap Times Staff
Birthdays. They suck.
Yes, campers, I have recently (January
18) turned 21 years of age, and the
celebration was approximately as many
giggles as wearing a "God Save The
Queen" shirt to an I.R.A. meeting.
When I was younger, birthdays were
annoying, but they at least guaranteed
that I would rake in some serious loot
from the assorted family members that ,
my Mom wasn't mortal enemies with
that week. The gifts could get a little
ridiculous...” Gee Aunt Brunhilda, thanks
for these golf pants, they should really
go over well at high school!" Everybody
has recieved birthday clothing that you
know had to be sewn in a dark room so
the fabric workers wouldn't see the
pattern and go blind and insane, but it
was a regular occurrence for me. But, I
could always count on a "cool" uncle to
come through with a Farrah Fawcett
poster, or a carton of Luckies, so it
averaged out.
Didja ever wonder what twisted Satanic
maniac came up with this surprise party
slop? Oh yeah, nothing like having the
cast from the road show of "Deliverance"
leap out of your closet at you on a major
personal holiday to "pull your ears” and
give you "one to grow on" while
playing fun party games and trashing
your house. Why don't these people just
dump the check on the table, grab a
piece of cake, and get out so everyone
else.can talk about how cheap their gift
was!
Letters to the editor are always
welcomed and encouraged.
Submit your letter in Room W-341 or place it in our
mailbox in Room 212. Typed submissions are
preferred. Please include your name...we cannot print
anonymous letters.
Tarnhelm wants
Creative passions flow in arts magazine
What in the world is Tarnhelm!
For those of you who have never
heard of, or have heard of but still
haven't gotten the foggiest idea of what
(a/the) Tarnhelm is, here is the story.
The word Tarnhelm comes from a
Wagner opera. It is a symbolic winged
helmet that, when worn, inspires the
individual to soar to great heights of
imagination. Tarnhelm is our own
literary and arts magazine at Penn State
Harrisburg.
All you writers and artists, do not
despair, for your secret and of course not
so secret creative passions can be
Do I sound bitter? Good, then I
haven't lost my touch over break.
Do you want to talk tragic? On my
21st birthday, I didn't have a single beer.
I was home at 11 P.M. (I had to work
until 9). To listen to my press releases,
I'm supposed to be some wild demented
animal, but lately I've become an
inadvertent spokesperson for "Get high
on life."
Oh well, maybe on Jan. 18, 1992,
things will be better.
A few belated New Year's resolutions
before I go.
1. Stop procrastinating, and do these
stupid things BEFORE January.
2. Root for sports teams that aren't
the worst in the universe. If I wait for
the Seattle Seahawks, Orlando Magic,
New York Yankees, and Philadelphia
Flyers to become champs, I'll be doing
"Life Call" commercials.
3. Buy my books at least before the
end of Drop/Add.
4. Stop dating women who ask the
question "How much money do you get
paid?”
5. To either lose weight, or forever
live in fear that Richard Simmons is
going to burst into my living room
singing "You're the Top" and beat me to
death with "Deal-A-Meid" cards.
6. To try not to be so bitter, dammit!
7. To realize that my problems are a
load of nothing when Americans are
dying for Mobil, Sunoco, and Exxon.
Until next time...
ou!
published in Tarnhelm. The literary
magazine, with us since 1971, is
published annually. Join us as we get
ready to kick off our annual production
for the 1991 issue, scheduled for May
1991.
We need all the help we can get,
especially now since submissions for the
publication have began to come in.
Those interested in contributing should
attend regularly scheduled meetings
(Dates and times are announced in This
Week). Or drop a note to the Tarnhelm
editors, either Lori Graby or Laura
McElroy, in the SGA mail slot, Room
New Year's resolution exercised
Karen M. Putt
Capital Times Staff
Well, New Year’s has come and gone
and once again, I've made my share of
"sure to be broken by February”
resolutions. One of my resolutions is a
carry over from 1981! That infamous
"I'm going to exercise and eat healthy"
resolution that everyone makes but no
one ever completes. Stand back
America, I, Karen "devil dogs for
breakfast" Putt, am making an honest
to-God attempt to exercise and eat right.
I've started off with a bang, I've been
to aerobics twice in two weeks! Call
Ripley's! Before you Jane Fonda juniors
erupt with remarks of disgust, show a
little compassion. I can't just throw
myself into this, I might have a heart
attack! But I do have a special motivator
to get me to go to aerobics, my mom.
She ties me to the bumper of the car!
Ok, she doesn’t, but she does inspire me.
She's 60 years old and in the same class
as I am. Before I started aerobics, I
copped the attitude "if she can do it I can
do it," only to discover I was wrong.
My mom may be 60, but she's
healthier than all three of her daughters.
None the less, my 23-year-old sister (an
alumnus of this campus who shall
remain nameless) and I decided to join
mother on her weekly trek to aerobics.
The first five minutes were relatively
painless. I registered for class and my
sister and I took two. spots on the floor
as close to the back row as we could get.
My mom, however, strutted to the front
of the class like some award winning
thoroughbred, and spread out her mat
along with her supplies of leg weights,
arm weights, sweat towel and water
bottle. My sister and I slouched on the
floor, two hills of flesh, as my mom
began her stretching routine.
When the instructor arrived I thought
I was having a bad childhood flashback,
she looked like someone had stuck a
Barbie doll head on a G.I. Joe body! She
fired up the sound system and began
calling out instructions to the first
routine. I may as well have been in the
front row of an Anthrax concert, I could
have heard her better! This music was
supposed to motivate us, not render us
deaf for life! However, I made it through
the first four "target area routines (one
216. Tarnhelm will accept submissions
for publication between January 14 and
February 15, 1991.
Detailed guidelines for submission
are available in W-360. Tarnhelm
accepts for review: poetry, short fiction,
original scores of music, and black and
white artwork (graphics and
photography). Decisions of editors and
staff are final. A SASE must accompany
submissions.
Anyone interested in seeing the 1990
Tamhelm may stop by the Humanities
Suite, W-360.
January 25, 1991 CAPITAL TIMES
for the stomach, arms, legs and of
course, the word that just screams
Richard Simmons...BUNS)."
Then came the dance routines.
Luckily I've had enough dance classes to
last me the rest of my life (and some of
yours). I did well enough that I didn't
look like a young, uncoordinated Jerry
Lewis. I looked more like an old,
drunken Dean Martin, puffing and
sweating and stumbling! I managed to
keep up with the crowd, UNTIL...we did
a routine to Kathy Dennis's song "Just a
Dream." Normally I might almost
enjoy the song, BUT, this particular
version was by Kathy and the
Chipmunks! The song was recorded
twice as fast as usual.
I started out fine, but all of a sudden I
felt a gust of wind on my neck.
Actually it was the breath of some
leotard clad, Hershey version of Ivana
Trump. Apparently I wasn't moving
fast enough for her, she was dancing on
my heels. We exchanged looks of
mutual disgust. Mine for her need to
wear gold and makeup to an aerobics
class, and hers for my hot pink Virginia
Slims t-shirt that reads "Sugar and spice
and everything nice? Get Real!"
My sister and I spent the rest of the
class smacking into one another while
trying to avoid Ivana and others like her.
Surprisingly I lasted the entire hour
(applause, applause!) and felt I really
earned the Big Mac I wolfed down on the
way home. So I'm still working on the
eating right part, big deal. With
Veryfine fruit juices at 75 cents a can,
who can afford to be healthy? Unitl next
month...
Why Rent?
Homes for $l, Repose.
Gov't give away programs!
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