Run a Google search on "Edwin A. Alderman" and the first Web site that appears is the homepage of Edwin A.
Last Friday, the act of walking took on a new meaning for the participants in the University's annual Relay for Life event.
Michael Jackson once sang, "A-B-C, it's easy as 1-2-3..." If only the lyric applied to three other little letters --
If you have ever bitten into a Littlejohn's Wild Turkey Sub late on a Friday night after going out, then you know what I'm talking about. If you have ever been in Scott Stadium on a September afternoon, wearing an orange tie on your head screaming the "Good Ol' Song" at the top of your lungs, then you probably understand. If you know what it feels like to drop your drawers and feel the sweet caress of the autumn air on your bare bottom as you fly toward the statue of Homer, then I think you may have an idea. If you've walked through a warm August thunderstorm in Virginia without an umbrella and looked at the sky; if you've ever driven out to the Shenandoah to look at the stars with your friends; if you've ever worn shorts to class in February, then you've probably said it before: "Thank God I'm a Wahoo." If you insist on calling freshmen at other schools "first years" because you know it sounds cooler; if you've ever roadtripped to UPenn with friends and repeatedly shouted WahooWa in the middle of their campus; if you've ever been to New England in January, then you definitely get the picture. If you've ever left Clemons at four in the morning after finishing a paper to find the streets empty and the night clear, or spent an entire day in Alderman Café without getting anything done because you've been talking with friends. If you've ever spent the afternoon reading a book in one of the Gardens; if you've driven down University Avenue playing Jefferson Starship as loud as your car's stereo will go, then you know what I mean when I say: "Thank God I'm a Wahoo." And maybe you're not involved in 8,000 different organizations.
Each week, the Cavalier Daily asks a student 25 questions and allows him or her to eliminate five of them.
My family and I migrated to the United States in 1995 for the same reason most other people do: My parents sought a better future for us.
The weekend: It is the long-awaited break from classes and a chance to unwind from the stress that college life tends to pile on in mountainous heaps.
As I may have mentioned once or twice in the course of this year, I have not had a lot of exposure to life outside the Southeast.
On a typical sunny April day at the University, people can be seen strolling around Grounds, lounging on the Lawn and ... golfing? Chi Omega sorority provided students with the opportunity to do just that on Saturday as they hosted Golf on Grounds.
"If you could eat dinner with three people, dead or alive, excluding Jesus Christ and family members, who would you pick?" That was the question my dad, a University alumnus, posed to every single Houston-area Jefferson Scholar nominee that he interviewed at our house for as far back as I can remember. It's been a while, but I think I can still give you a rough sketch of the answers I heard most: Thomas Jefferson (the suck-ups who said that one never made it to the second round), Winston Churchill, Aristotle, Michael Jordan, Christopher Columbus, "the first man" (how are you going to talk to that guy?), etc. If you don't know any Jeff Scholars, trust me on this: They are legit.
A trip to the United States isn't as easy as flying down to Cancun or traveling to Europe. When visas are hard or impossible to obtain, immigrants will find other means to battle for survival and for a better future. Hardships across the border The first "border crossing" story in my family comes from my father and two uncles, who entered the United States through the Mexican border.
With "diversity" a buzzword at the University, it may seem that most students are well-versed on the different experiences of their peers.
Last Friday, third-year Commerce student Tyler Cain won $500 by speaking for a total of three minutes. "I am here to propose my product, a low-cost, prepaid cab service," Cain told his audience of would-be investors in his first presentation. Ninety seconds later, he was greeted with a round of applause. Cain, however, had no prepaid taxis to offer.
Wednesday night, a room in the Chemistry building. A tan, muscular, handsome guy, collar popped, entered Room 304 and sat down at a chair facing the audience.
Fact of the day: Why wasn't the pope's printer working? Answer: Because he had a papal jam. Yes, that is a fact. Correction notice: Dear Mr. Joseph Guyton, Thank you for pointing out an egregious error in my last column.
You and a group of your friends are driving down Ivy with the windows down and Paul Simon blasting on the CD player.
Summer Break is only weeks away and, though it may be too early to get excited for a rest, it's never too early to start worrying about transportation. For many of you, this is not a major concern.
The downside to having a column is that every single person you know wants to help you write it. The upside to this is getting that help on days when you simply can't think of anything to write about.
"Bienvenuti!" Modest signs displaying the Italian word for "welcome" in red lettering are taped to the glass doors of Jordan Hall, the University Medical Center's conference building, this week. The little signs are pointing to big things. Meant for a group of 21 cardiologists from Italy, the bienvenutis welcome the visitors to a three-day post-graduate interactive learning course at the University Medical Center.
Every time I see the "Thefts have been reported" sign in Alderman it just makes me want to steal that sign, purely for the irony. Apparently the facebook has added a "My Parties" function, designed to facilitate party invitations, get-togethers and other goings-on.
