Bob bids a fond adieu to
Bob Caton
Capital Times Staff
This is it...the end...the last edition of
senseless drivel that will ever grace these
pages (unless, of course, I manage to
flunk a class or two, in which case we can
spare all this teary goodbye slop until
spring) and darken the door of the
university.
I decided that my fans...both of
them...deserved a column that would last
forever in the annals of journalism...the
finest piece of writing ever put to paper...a
masterpiece that would be sung of by
children for ages.
This, unfortunately, is not it...
Here is a Voice from Hell fun fact for
all graduating seniors, as well as those of
you who will not escape until May. You
will not have to compete with your former
classmates, drinking partners, and assorted
buds in the job market! Nope, you will be
competing with people with five to ten
years experience in your respective field
who have lost their jobs, and, to pay the
lease on the minivan and keep the daughter
in braces, will now happily take an entry
level job, rather than have to move back
in with the in-laws.
Jeff sings the wedding bell blues
Jeff Hildebrand
Capital Times Staff
One of the best things about writing a
column for the Capital Times is the
freedom of expression. When I write a
column, there is virtually no topic that is
off limits. On the rare occasion that my
editor approaches me with concern
regarding issues of taste, ethics, timeliness
or self-serving content, a simple bribe
usually wins her over. (Wow, just like the
real world.)
This stated, I submit the following
thoughts for your consideration.
A Penn state Harrisburg institution is
coming to an end. This issue of the
Capital Times contains the final
installment of Bob Caton's Voice From
Hell.
Bob's particular sense of optimism and
dainty, expressive style will surely be
missed. No longer will Elin and Karen
experience the euphoria (Editor's note:
euphoria?) associated with hours of
expletive deleting, as they prepare Bob's
column for print.
Nevermore will these pages offer the
inspiring wit of Bob "Cajun" Caton,
which so often had the effect of a visual
laxative. Never again will the first
amendment be so routinely tested in a
college publication.
Bob, my best wishes are with you, as
you ride off into the sunset, searching,
searching, searching for that ever-elusive
career opportunity.
Second class citizens—that is what men
are on their wedding days.
Let's take a close look at this whole
wedding thing.
For starters, the bride gets to spend a
bejillion dollars on a gown she will
(hopefully) wear only once, but will keep
The companies are drooling over this,
because they get to hire a Fortune 500
corporate headhunter for $17,000 a year,
and he's HAPPY to make that! This leaves
Voice from Hell
us, the ever suffering college kids, a
number of extremely unpleasant choices.
(1) UNEMPLOYMENT...Good
Points: Lots of free time; get to catch up
on "Days of our Lives" episodes; get to
learn names of hot babes on DAYSHIFT
at Hardee's; staying up late to watch "Bad
Girls Dormitory" on USA doesn't interfere
with lifestyle; increased skill level playing
"The Price is Right"; impending fame as
"Super Mario World" master; bathing only
required when YOU can't stand yourself.
Bad Points: No Porsche; no Nakamichi
Stereo; no tasty authentic Mexican dinners
at Chi-Chi's; no dates...oh, sorry, that's
now; no 100" projection TV; no imported
beer; no domestic beer; no money; and, of
course...you gotta live AT HOME!
(2) GRADUATE SCHOOL...yeah,
right.
(3) A PATHETIC, MENIAL JOB
forever. This demonstration of fiscal
irresponsibility should scare the groom
away right off the bat.
By way of comparison, the groom gets
Just a Thought...
to fork out the staggering sum of about
$6O to RENT a tuxedo that has previously
been worn to 70 or 80 weddings, fraternity
formals and senior proms. There is no
telling (and I shudder to think) just what
organic material deposits have survived the
two or three dry cleanings the penguin suit
has experienced. At the very least, this
fashion garment the lucky groom gets to
wear on his wedding day has soaked- up
more sweat in its life than Larry Bird's
gym towels.
I suppose, given the USED clothing he
is wearing, it is understandable that
nobody makes a fuss when the groom
enters the church. On this most special
day, for this most special event, the
groom is quietly placed, along with his
friends who were unable to dissuade him
from relinquishing his God-given liberties,
in front of the assembled masses. Nobody
notices. Nobody cares.
Only a buffoon could possibly fall for
the "Oh honey, we're going to be equal
partners..." line after witnessing the bride's
entrance.
With all the subtlety of the Macy’s
Thanksgiving Day parade, the groom's
"equal partner" follows a procession of
satin and chiffon that would make a fairy
godmother’s convention appear drab by
comparison. The bridesmaids enter to the
"oohs" and "aahs" of the getting hungry,
getting bored friends in attendance. And
then it's the BIG moment—here comes the
bride.
THAT YOU WERE OVERQUALIFIED
FOR AS A HIGH SCHOOL
SOPHOMORE...Good point: A
paycheck...that's it. Bad Points: absolutely
no one in the world could look cool in a
paper sailor's cap; grease bums take a long
time to heal; must wait on friends who
you laughed at for not going to college,
who now outeam your weekly salary in a
single day; grease in massive amounts
will cause once-vanquished zits to return;
scheduling "quirks" cause you to have to
work every Friday and Saturday night for
six months; respect level of village idiot;
still probably have to live at home, or at
best with a roomie; have to take orders
from 16-year old "Assistant Swing Shift
Managerial Trainee" who has been
brainwashed with the company line to the
point that he sings the company song
while picking the rat poop off the burgers
that fell on the floor; not even Tom
Cruise could impress a girl while wearing
a "Second Assistant Pickle Boy” nametag.
(4) MTA TRUCK DRIVERS
SCHOOL...Good Points: the feel of the
open road; be your own boss; the allure of
the "big rigs"...um...sorry, the
subliminals in those commercials must
have overcome me.
All in attendance rise to ogle and give
it their best gawk. A few gather their
composure to utter the obligatory "She's
never looked so beautiful." (They should
add "She'll never look this good again.”)
A few silently wonder why she's wearing
white. The onslaught of exploding flashes
will do irreparable damage to Grandma's
cataracts, but she doesn't care. Not because
her little angel is getting married, but
because she's senile.
Once the parade is concluded, the
wedding vows begin. You know the ones-
Do you, groom, promise to always tell
her where you've been, where you're
going, and hand over your signed
paychecks as though it were a natural
reflex? Do you, bride, promise to tell your
mother every little thing your new
husband docs which annoys you in the
least way, and to allow your mother to
compare him to all of your former
boyfriends who were better looking, more
Letters to the Editor
Smith testates idea in protile
Dear Editor
My compliments to Elin Marcel for
her profile of me in the Nov. 4 Capital
Times. It was interesting to see myself in
"mediated reality" (thank you, Dr. Parisi;
nice term, Mr. Churchill).
I write now only to correct something
I'd conveyed incorrectly to Elin.
I met many wonderful people over the
years at IBM, and at any rank, there or
anywhere, expecially one-on-one, most
people tend to be human (bear with me).
CAPITAL TIMES T? TV lH
November 25, 1991 V/ E m HrMJ / /
PSU
(5) ARMED FORCES...Yeah, right.
Four years and $50,000 LATER, I’ll call
the recruiters that harrassed me every day
as a high school senior.
That's it...looks pretty bleak, eh? Give
a hearty THANKS to the Republican
Party for digging the country into this
mess with President Braindcad Reagan and
his lip-reading lapdog that got the top spot
by default. Read about George's deep
concern for the Croatians, and pull up a
"Whirlpool" box...we're gonna be here a
while.
It has been almost two years, and four
editors, since I began the "Voice From
Hell" (who can remember the original title
of "Straight Talk?" That really sucked). I'd
like to think I pissed a few people off,
entertained a few more, and pul my own
little dent in the wall of apathy...but, I
doubt it. It's time to continue my
experiments in low-income living in
another 1and...1 thank YOU, campers, for
silting through this drivel when it came
out...nolhing is sweeter than a laugh, and
I don't know where I'll get my ego stroked
from now on.
There is no next time.
considerate of your feelings, and today are
heading a multimillion-dollar corporation?
Next comes the big slam. The
exchanging of the rings. He places on her
manicured (at a cost of $120) finger, a
chunk of ice that she just had to have, cost
him two-months salary, and will be lost
down the kitchen sink drain. She, in a true
representation of marital equality, places
on his unmanicured (she said they couldn't
afford it) finger, a band of gold that more
appropriately should have gone through
his nose, and is so thin it could be used as
dental floss.
Lastly come those magic words, "You
may kiss the bride." Knowing all this,
who would want to?
With apologies to radical feminists
everywhere, and a wink and congrats to
my beautiful new sister-in-law Judy, and
her handsome husband Deron who, sadly,
plays golf as poorly as I do.
My "silly and stupid" comment refers not
so much to individuals but to a state of
culture, mentality and judgement ever
more dominant (here and there and
everywhere; thank you, Dr. Seuss). We
become indeed, less than human-a nature
potentially wonderful.
Nothing (which is something, thank
you, Jeff Hildebrand) is wrong with
computers or numbers. Nice tools-but
only tools, not people.
Craig Smith