I Lost My Sight, Not My Vision

If life’s hard knocks have beat you up to the point that you
rather give up here is a blueprint on how to fight back.

By Gerry Whitted
Staff Writer

Bang! Went the sound in my head when my eye hit the corner of the dresser in my bedroom, after a two-foot free fall. One half of my world went dark instantly and the other half was curious with fear, to find out what happened.

As I removed my hand from my eye to investigate, I realized that the beet red warm liquid sensation in the palm of my hand was blood. I went to the three-quarter-length mirror in the hallway. The reflection I saw alarmed me. I didn’t recognize what used to be my eye, and I knew I was in need of help.

“Oh no,” I said, while my head began to throb and feel like a woodpecker with a headache. I began to bargain with God with the typical, “If you get me through this one I will change.” I began to list some of my shortcomings. If I were to keep my end of the deal I would look like the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.

Do I call 911 or do I look for a neighbor at 8:30 a.m. in this predominantly working class condominium? I chose the latter. I rang the doorbell of Mr. Singh and, as he opened the door, he said with a distinct East Indian accent “Jedee, oh sheet what happened?” I explained and asked if he would take me to the emergency room. He nodded his head yes and put up one finger as to say one moment please.

When he returned, in what seemed like seconds, he was wearing a jacket and I proceeded to my unit to get mine. We moved quickly towards his car on this brisk mid February morning and after a short ride we were in the emergency room. Little did I know that my life was about to change, forever.

The trauma to my eye was so great that, not only was my retina detached, it was outside of the eye. It was determined that I would need specialized surgery and Dr. Stein, one of only five surgeons in Fairfield County qualified, was chosen to perform the task.

By this time my wife, Gail, summoned four of my closest friends. Dwight from the Bronx, Jeff from New Jersey, Mike from New Rochelle and Glenn from Bridgeport. My two sisters, Candice and Judith from New Rochelle and Yonkers, were there, so I was not lacking in the support department.

Dr. Stein, who had examined my eye earlier in the day, came into my room with that positive doctor persona that put us all ease. He put his hands, with manicured nails, on my shoulder and explained the procedure he would use to repair my damaged eye. He also added a piece of information that would crush my world.

Dr. Stein said, “I am not saying give up hope and stop praying, but it is a 99% chance you will not regain the vision in your eye. I’ve done many like this and yet to have one regain their vision. We will know more after the surgery, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up to high.”

I nodded my head and said, “I understand.”

What a blow; I had never felt this way before. At least when my legs were amputated I could get a prosthesis and wheelchair to aid with my mobility. Loss of vision is just that, lost and gone forever.

I would have missed too many classes to go back to school that semester. I would have to quit the Connecticut Wheelchair Basketball team, after training so hard and buying a $1800.00 sports wheelchair. I would have to give up my independence due to not being able to drive. What is the sense of continuing my education? Who is going to hire a no legged wheel chair bound black man with one eye?

The story of my life, it seems, is when things are going great something happens to take away my joy. Did I mention that after almost 25 years of procrastination I decided to go back to college? I even changed my major from Accounting to Journalism after working the corporate offices of IBM, Frito-Lay and The Zales Corp. Obviously my interest changed. Being an auditor was cool but repetitious.

“God what did I do to deserve all of this? Both of my parents are gone, my legs are gone and now my vision. How much more can I take? What more must I do? I try to be a faithful servant to you; yeah I know I can do better. But as I understand it you don’t expect perfection and you will forgive imperfection. Why do I feel you have abandoned me maybe you don’t even exist. Maybe I would be better off being a loser and quitter, while being a negative influence in society. Better yet I’ll stay home and medicate while I am vegetating that would really be cool wouldn’t it? NOT!”

Realizing I had just uttered words questioning the existence of my creator and protector, I grew uncomfortable feeling sorry for myself. I could have lost consciousness and bled to death or I could have hit my temple and died instantly. Though I am one eye from being blind, I am one eye from not being blind. This could have been a lot worse.

At that moment I realized I better make a call before my request to be a loser, quitter and some other negative things I would hate to become. I said “Yo, God you know that conversation we had few minutes ago? I was just venting. I would like to rescind my original request too. Please give me the courage and strength to challenge life’s hardships and challenges in a responsible way.” This was the beginning of the healing process.

After the completion of my successful surgery I called my wife and told her to call school and let them know I would be absent because of surgery. I called my sister Joan and asked her to contact my basketball coach and inform him of the situation.

I returned home after a week of hospitalization and found out how much I had taken for granted. For instance, depth perception, I could not pour any liquid into a glass without concentrating. Cover one of your eyes and do the same and you will fully understand.

My eye healed, and I was cleared to go back to normal duties, whatever that means. The only restrictions were to wear goggles when I played basketball and wear unbreakable lenses in my prescribed glasses.

I went back to school and spoke to my professors to let them know that this was not a visit; I am back. I refused to defer because I was afraid if I chose to, I would never go back. I had to make up at least three weeks of work and, being a full time student,his was going to be a challenge. And a challenge it was.

I could not put it into words for it to justify how hard I worked in spring 2007. I never gave up, though at times I didn’t think I would succeed, but I did.

I finished with a 3.20GPA, so you see there is room for improvement. If I gave up I would never feel the joy that has engulfed my life. Yeah, I have my bad days, but I realize the great days are right around the bend.

This summer I created a newsletter for our condominium tenants, something that has been in the works for about two years. I am still having eye examinations on a regular basis and it was determined I would need a prosthetic eye to make me handsome again.

I have gained a renewed excitement and appreciation for education that has been absent for years. So much that I am, once again, a full time student and working ever so close to meeting my goal to graduate in May 2008.

Changing Currents

As we mature, familiar places take on different faces.

“Long, long be my heart with such memories fill’d! Like the vase in which roses have once been distill’d: You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.” - Thomas Moore, Farewell! But Whenever You Welcome the Hour


By Brandon T. Bisceglia
Op/Ed Editor

One recent afternoon, I had to run to the office supply store and pick up an ink cartridge that I desperately needed for a project due the next day. It was no big deal – at this point in my life, I’m accustomed to rushing.

After retrieving the item, I noticed that the sun was going down, and became momentarily nostalgic. On a whim, I changed course, and drove to my favorite haunt: the boat launch in my hometown.

Photograph by Brandon T. Bisceglia

The boat launch is essentially the parking lot termination of a dead-end street. The pavement at one point falls into the marshland mouth of the Housatonic River, which serves as the demarcation between Stratford and Milford, CT – and also Fairfield and New Haven counties. I imagined in my youth that the road must continue under the water, and up the other side of the river. Later, of course, I understood that one would drown.

The rest of the area known as the launch includes several small piers used mainly for fishing and small sail or motor boats. In summer, the parking lot also houses an outdoor restaurant that was once owned by an older Greek fellow who used to sexually harass my high school girlfriend when she worked for him. It’s okay, though; she quit, and I never liked the food much anyhow.

What has always attracted me most to this spot throughout my life is the relative solitude. As a teenager, I would walk down the precipitous rails and planks, and sit on one of the floating docks that wavered near the shore, letting the currents pull me back and forth. Once I owned a car, I would spend my Sunday evenings parked in front of a swath of reeds at one end of the lot, listening to ambient music and watching the wind roll over the stalks as bugs twirled in the infinitely far-off street lamps. If I was up early enough on certain mornings, I would catch the sun rising over the river, painting it in ascending hues.

The boat launch is popular among the locals during the summer. The fishermen prop their poles in chunks of white PVC tubing that are mounted on the pier, then idle through cigarettes as they wait for their lines to bend. Occasional patrons picnic in their cars or on one of the benches scattered around the area. And on the river, the paper wisps of sails glide blissfully down the lolling waters.

During other seasons, though, the place is mine alone, and that is when I enjoy it most. The frosted grasses in winter, the near desolation of autumn – the area tells different stories at different times.

One late October, for instance, a series of torrential rains over the period of a few days flooded certain sections of the town. In the evening, during a lull in the precipitation, I stopped at the launch, parking perhaps 40 feet from the gentle slope where the pavement was subsumed by the river. I watched as it spread slowly outward, crawling up and over the parking lot. I was mesmerized by the sight of the black liquid that, with measured complacency, rose to replace the solid blacktop. Only when it had come well past the limits of my vehicle could I compel myself to discontinue my presence in this ominously beautiful scene.

Throughout the procession of seasons and years, the boat launch has seemed only to change cyclically, remaining in an overall sense the same. Time draws into the more familiar natural step that I expect of it, and stretches out in expanses as endless as the gulf where the river continuously meets the salty ocean.

It was that broadening circular sensation that drew me on my detour from the store.

I sat on the fringe of a wooden walkway, eavesdropping on the entire world. A stocky, gruff fisher walked past me with his bucket and tools, stopping a short distance off to chat with another man who’d just arrived.

“Catch anythin’?”

“Nah.”

“Long y’ben here?”

“Couple’a hours. Not much doin’ today – yuh just get here?”

“Yeah.”

“Good luck.”

As the two went their separate ways, their conversation sparked images I had never associated with this place. I saw depleted fish counts from the pollution upstream, and remembered that the organization American Rivers listed the Housatonic as the 7 th most endangered river in the nation in 2004. I saw the spreading dead zones in the Hudson Bay, and finally, the awesome cesspool that Long Island Sound – where the Housatonic makes its exit - had become. I recalled the tracking of these trends, the alarm and debate all of these issues had spurred. It was all connected, of course, and I’d always known of the environmental problems that coursed deep within the waters of the area. Until that moment, however, such concerns had not intruded on my reveries. Now they sent me on tangents of cogitation.

The walls of my mental sanctuary fell, and I understood that it, too, was part of the forward projection, no longer an isolated realm.

Fish stocks might return. The river would eventually wash itself clean, if given the chance. But a deeper truth lay in the fact that, even if this rejuvenation were to happen, the boat launch could never be the same. Just as Pangaea would never reconstruct itself, just as Neanderthal man had been lost forever on the precipices of the Iberian Peninsula.

Like the phoenix, the reborn river would be a new and different creature.

With this insight in mind, I bid salut et adieu to a place that could no longer match my memory of it. And as I drove away, I realized something else – I still loved it anyway.

Being Imperfect and Loving It

After being diagnosed with a rare birth defect, I discovered that not being perfect is wonderful.

By Samantha Bratz

Editor-at-Large

This is a brain scan showing Arnold Chiari Malformation Type I
Photo courtesy of www.uchsc.edu

I remember like it was yesterday, the terrible pain shooting through my head, the sound of water rushing in my ears. I knew something was wrong but I didn’t know what. I had been to the pediatrician several times over the last few months, but my doctor could not figure out what was wrong with me so he pawned me off to the nurse practitioners in the office. They all said it was “growing pains,” and since I was 14, I was probably just feeling stress from starting high school.

Every other month or so I would end up back in the doctor’s office complaining that the headaches were getting worse and that I was constantly hearing rushing water in my ears. My list of complaints started to grow - I felt off balance all the time (my friends said I looked drunk when I walked down the hall at school), some days I would be incredibly nauseous while others I would be extremely tired. There would be days where I would come home from school, do my homework, take a shower and then be in bed by 6:30 because my head hurt so bad. I would sleep anywhere from six to ten hours a night, and I would wake up exhausted the next day. I knew something was wrong, but my doctor completely dismissed anything I had to say; he would just send me to have blood work done and each time the results came back showing nothing was wrong.

After months of tracking how severe the headaches were along with what I ate and did every day, my doctor still could not figure out what was wrong with me. At this time I could no longer bear the headaches and with the help of my mom we were able to get my doctor to see that there was really something wrong with me. He suggested I see a neurologist to “rule out a brain tumor as the cause of the headaches” – as he nonchalantly put it. I then became a patient of Dr. Peter McAllister. He reviewed my symptoms and after about 45 minutes of talking he made a referral for me to have an MRI.

When the results from the MRI came in he sat my mom and I down and said “I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is you don’t have a brain tumor. The bad news is that you have Arnold Chiari Malformation Type I (ACM I) and Pseudo Tumor Cerebri (PTC).” According to the National Organization for Rare Disorders (NORD) website www.rarediseases.org, “Arnold-Chiari Malformation is a rare malformation of the brain that is sometimes, but not always, apparent at birth. It is characterized by abnormalities in the area where the brain and spinal cord meet that cause part of the cerebellum to protrude through the bottom of the skull (foramen magnum) into the spinal canal.” In layman’s terms, I was born with part of my brain in my spinal cord. Normally the brain rests on the spinal cord, but, my cerebellum is slightly protruding into my spinal cord, therefore my coordination skills and equilibrium are off.

As for the PTC, it literally means “fake tumor.” According to www.ninds.nih.gov, PTC “is likely due to high pressure caused by the buildup or poor absorption of cerebrospinal fluid in the subarachnoid space surrounding the brain. The disorder is most common in women between the ages of 20 and 50.” PTC in basic english means that I have a big ball of pressure behind my eyes. This built up pressure can cause vision loss, which happens to be the major risk with this disorder. PTC is also to blame for the nausea, some of the headache pain, and the sound of rushing water in my ears.

I will always remember the day Dr. McAllister told me what was causing the headaches and all my other problems. I wasn’t upset or worried; I was ecstatic. I finally had an answer. I could actually go on to the next step and get treatment. Maybe I could actually lead a somewhat normal life that didn’t revolve around pain and exhaustion. I will also always remember looking over at my mom and watching her cry. She felt bad that I had suffered so much and she blamed herself for it. I got her a tissue and sat down next to her and said, “it’s not your fault. This was how I was born. There was nothing you could do to prevent it.”

As we left the doctor’s office I started to think “if I have a birth defect then that makes me a defective person. I’m imperfect. I will NEVER be perfect.” I was upset, but as time went on and I grew older I started to realize that nobody is perfect. Everybody has flaws – whether their feet are too big or they have a narcissistic personality. Perfection is what you believe it is. I no longer think of myself as a defect. I joke around about having ACM I and PTC all the time. In high school I wrote about having ACM I for my scholarship essay, and when I was awarded my scholarship I said to my mom “it’s all thanks to Arnold.” She just gave me a look and laughed.

Today I am a healthy 21-year-old college student. I get headaches from time to time, but I have learned ways to handle them. I have learned how to handle stress so it does not cause headaches. I sew, read or I listen to music when I’m stressed. With the help of medication I was able to get the ACM I and PTC under control and I have not needed to see Dr. McAllister since I was in high school.

I think of myself as unique. I figure not many people can go around saying they were born with a part of their brain in their spinal cord. Not everybody can thank dear old Arnold for getting them a college scholarship. I figure I’ll never be alone; I will always have Arnold. I’m special – because I choose to be. I have my flaws like everybody else; I can be obnoxious at times, I chew with my mouth open, and I tend to crack jokes when I attend funerals. I don’t really think of my flaws as “flaws”. They are extensions of my uniqueness. They are distinctive qualities that I possess that make me one of a kind. My imperfections make me perfect; they show that I am human. In the end I have found that yes, I am imperfect and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

It’s a Concrete Jungle Out There!

The HCC Student’s Guide to Keeping Occupied

Suggestions and tips to help the average HCC student stay occupied during the time they have to spare between classes.

By Kristin Gayda
Editor-at-Large

Thumbs up to B.B. the Bluefish, who’s always down to chill between classes.
Photo Courtesy of Kristin Gayda

A mode of transportation is a beautiful thing. If you’re a car-less HCC student, keeping your sanity intact between classes can feel like something of a hopeless situation. But never fear, my bum-riding, shotgun calling friend – you’ve got a professional on your side! Not only have I endured three semesters at Housatonic without a means of getting to and from school, but my attention span can be measured in nanoseconds. With that in mind, here are some suggestions to get you on your way to having fun and conquering Bridgeport’s concrete jungle!

If you’re trying to stay as local as possible, then take advantage of campus. Walking around HCC requires little to no effort because you’re, uh, already there. Rather than waste all of your time in one place (like the Cafeteria), make an “adventure” out of your quest to overcome boredom. For example, take everything in steps. Start in the cafeteria, grab a soda or hot chocolate, and mentally prepare yourself for the hours ahead. Take your beverage of choice out into the court yard, look around for familiar faces, or simply sit on a bench and contemplate the day’s events.

When you’re finished outside, take a walk indoors and scan the newspaper racks. Of course, you should always pick up an issue of Horizons if you haven’t already (what a shameless plug!), but many times you can find editions of Play Magazine, Fairfield Weekly, and The Connecticut Post (among other publications) for free! Free reading, comics, Sudoku puzzles and calendars of local events always equate to at least a good half an hour of time consumption.

From here you may want to check out the HCC Library. The obvious suggestion here is to take out a book; whether it’s applicable to a class you’re taking or simply for leisure is up to you. I bring my laptop with me everywhere I go, so the Library is a quiet, calm place to relax and do my work with a pair of headphones and some groovy tunes. If you really have nothing else to do, take advantage of yet another library perk – the movie selection. It’s free to check one out, and they offer headphones and television sets to aid in your viewing pleasure.

Once walking down the same hallway and seeing the same people over and over again gets to be too much, consider venturing outside. It’s always good to set a goal for these sorts of travels, so have a mission in mind. I suggest hunting for caffeine. If you do it right, the hunt for caffeine can be both extremely rewarding and time consuming at once!

You have several options in the area to choose from, which is nice because it takes time to figure out where to go and allows you to mix it up every so often. The simplest choice – Dunkin’ Donuts – is located directly across the street from the parking garage. While it may not have the greatest service ever, it’s an easy walk and you know what you’re in for. Plus, they have free Internet access for those of you with laptops.

If that isn’t your cup of tea (or, uh, coffee), and it’s before 3:30 in the afternoon, check out Take Time Café or Avalon Café. It takes two minutes (tops – they’re located on State Street) to walk to either establishment from campus and both are definitely worth your while. In addition to providing gourmet drinks in a “café” atmosphere, Take Time and Avalon’s full menus include a wide array of sandwiches, paninis, salads, and pastries guaranteed to satisfy your appetite.

So, where do you go next? Well, if you’re the collegiate type who likes to feel cultured every once in a while, be sure to check out City Lights Gallery and Rainy Faye’s. Both are located just a block away on Broad Street, and are, as far as I’m concerned, hidden gems many HCC students are unaware of. City Lights Gallery is a great spot for all you art enthusiasts out there to visit. The selection is always changing, as the gallery displays a new themed exhibition every six weeks or so. Each exhibition aims to showcase local artists’ sculptures, paintings, prints, and photography. Admission is $0, so feel free to walk in and browse some of the area’s best artistic talents.

Situated a short distance away is Rainy Faye’s. Serving as the area’s only bookstore, it provides much more than a diverse selection of today’s best sellers. Live jazz concerts, poetry readings, lectures, and book signings are offered on a regular basis, so be sure to browse their schedule. If purchasing books doesn’t tickle your fancy, Rainy Faye’s also sells art prints, CDs, handicrafts, and gourmet coffees/teas. Who knew?

Now, if you still aren’t sure as to what you can do to kill the time, then you haven’t been reading carefully. There’s clearly a wide variety of things to do on and around HCC’s campus. Remember, these are only a few suggestions – there’s still a whole lot more to explore in the area! Read flyers for events, ask around, meet new people, and do all you can to quell the boredom (at least until your ride arrives). Believe me, in the end you’ll be a happier, more productive student. Good luck!

The Power of Divorce: How Can You Cope with It?

How to overcome one of America’s most common problems.

Divorce is a growing problem in the United States.
Graphic Courtesy of United States Census

By Vinny DeLillo
Staff Writer

Divorce has the power to turn a once happy family into a broken home. It can tear families apart, it can make enemies out of friends and most of all, it can deeply affect children throughout their entire lives. In this day and age, divorce is becoming more and more common among American families. As a matter of fact, according to DivorceMag.com, 10% of the population in the US is now divorced. That may not seem like a lot, but this number has risen 2% every ten years since 1980. If that’s not enough for you, here is another shocking statistic: According to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, in 2001 alone, 50% of all marriages ended in divorce, and the number has only been growing as time has gone on. And speaking as somewhat of an expert on the subject, I believe there are a number of ways to cope with it.

Divorce happens for a reason and more often than not, the aftermath can be hard and troubling for some. When my parents were first divorced, I didn’t know what to do. Since I was so young at the time (6 years old), I wasn’t completely sure how to deal with it or whose fault it was. I felt like I should be taking sides, but I didn’t know whose side I should’ve been on. To make matters worse, my parents would often fight, whether it be over the phone or in person, and it took a toll on me emotionally. I had never seen this side of either of my parents and I didn’t know what to think of it, all I knew was that I was confused and somewhat scared of what the future was going to hold.


Most people will find that one of the biggest problems that comes along with parents getting divorced is the realization that you now have “two” families. That is, you’ve got your dad and his family, and your mom and her family. This may seem like a tall task to undertake at first, but if you balance your time correctly, it can most certainly be done. Whichever parent you’re living with, try to visit the other either every weekend, or every other weekend. When my parents first were divorced, I would alternate weekends staying at their houses. It was a good way to still see my mom, whom I didn’t live with, and at the same time spend time with my dad. Also, try to arrange some impromptu meetings for lunch or dinner with the other.

Keeping the lines of communication open are also very important when dealing with divorced parents. As it is with any relationship, communication is key to maintaining a happy, healthy relationship. Try to make time to shoot your parent a text or a quick phone call during the day, just to tell them that you were thinking about them and you love them. It’ll make you feel better and it’ll let the parent know that he/she is still wanted even though they aren’t in your life as much anymore.

Child psychologists also agree that the best way for teens to cope with divorce is to avoid turning them against their parents. Choosing sides will lead to even more dissension within the family and could possibly terminate the lines of communication for good. Family therapist Isolina Ricci agrees with this theory. “When children are free to love both of their parents without conflict of loyalty, to have access to them both without fear of losing either, they can get on with the totally absorbing business of growing up, on schedule.”

While divorce pales in comparison to many other problems to some, to others it can prove to be quite the obstacle to overcome. Coping with it is a day by day healing process that takes the combined effort of both parents and their children alike, but can be beneficial to both if done correctly. After all, in life, what does not kill us makes us stronger.

Life! The Musical

Life is music, music is art... I don’t know where I’m going with this. Just read the damn article.

By Cody Quinn
Editor-in-Chief

Like so many of you Internet surfers out there, I use music to get me through otherwise uneventful days. Yes, the glory of that $300 piece of plastic I so fondly call Harley (What? You don’t name your iPod?) is truly beyond measure. Without Harley, work would be a drab experience, I might have to say, “Hello,” to people when I walk down the halls of our beloved HCC, and, worst of all, I might have an attention span somewhat longer than that of the average squirrel.

However, without the proper listening material, my iPod would be about as useful as President Bush’s diction coach. My precious Harley contains roughly 3,000 songs nestled in her tender little hard drive, with each and every song tailor fitted for all the tiny nuances of my life.

Perhaps at this point you are wondering how you can have a perfect mp3 player like I do. You may also be wondering if I will somehow find my way to giving you some handy dandy examples. Furthermore, you may be curious as to how millions of dollars in untraceable cash could be lost on the way to Iraq. If you are wondering about the last question, you are too smart for this article and must leave before your brain is irreparably harmed. You’ve been warned.

When looking for music to download on to your digital storage device, there are two, and only two, ways to go about it. The first is the easiest: take a look in the mirror. By using the handy tool known as “stereotyping”, you will be able to find music that suits you perfectly.

For example: does your hair come to a laceration-inducing point? Do you wear Che Guevara T-shirts, “Fight the Power” patches, and a jean jacket with the Union Jack on the back and have no clue what any of them symbolize? Then rock is for you. If you haven’t already, look into bands like Bad Religion (older stuff), the Sex Pistols, and the Meat Puppets just to take the edge off.

From the Sex Pistols to Mos Def, you can use any music to describe your life.
Images courtesy of www.theage.com.au and www.dustygroove.com

Can you decipher words that are spoken at roughly the speed of light? Do you believe that, “Pimpin ain’t easy,” and know that it’s hilarious for little kids to be singing, “Skeet, skeet, skeet?” Then rap is surely for you. Of course, trying to recommend rap groups/artists is like tip-toeing across a minefield of allegiances and personal tastes. Having said that, Mos Def, Immortal Technique, Common, and Kanye West are always worth a listen.

The second method of finding music is somewhat more personal: selecting music to suit your many moods. The best way to do this is to find out where your mood most commonly lies. If you’re a melancholy person, you’ll want to load up on artists like Brand New, Snow Patrol, Plain White Ts, or any other band that handles a breakup by throwing on some make-up and clumsily strumming an acoustic guitar. “Sowing Season” by Brand New and “Run” by Snow Patrol are bound to keep you sullenly content.

As in life, if you are of a generally happy temperament, you have more options. A joyous person has more genres to choose from, including 90’s alt rock, rap, and pop. The sky’s the limit for you, but some songs that will never let you down from the cloud you’re floating on are “Steal my Sunshine” by Len, “Taxi Cab” by Gym Class Heroes, and “Calculus” by 2Gether.

Finally, I know lots of you out there are uncertain when it comes to selecting music that best fits your “romantic” moods. Let’s face it: being equipped with the right song can mean the difference between playing patty cake with you partner, or giving yourself a low five. Of course, there are the old standards: “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye, anything by Barry White, and for the super subtle, “Too Close” by Next.

You’re better than that, though, so consider widening your approach to more thoughtful music. Want to make a girl go weak in the knees? Try “Into the Mystic” by the Wallflowers. Ladies, want to show your man you mean business? “I Love My Sex” by Benny Benassi is perfect to let him know he’s in for the time of his life. If you want to have a song on that signifies some kind of “love,” “21 Questions” by 50 Cent is surprisingly sweet.

That is only a glimpse into the process of custom fitting the music world to your particular lifestyle. If, on the very off chance, you find my two methods ineffective in finding music, there are two outside sources that are pretty good at filling out your collection. Websites like www.pandora.com and www.lastfm.com are great for opening your mind to artists similar to the ones you already like, and learning what type of music people like you like.

With that, and to get you thinking in the right direction, here’s a sample of an average day in my life as outlined by songs from my sweet, sweet Harley.

A Day in the Life of Cody Quinn

1. Pure Morning- Placebo
2. Phenomena- Yeah Yeah Yeahs
3. So Fresh and So Clean- Outkast
4. Working in a Coal Mine- Lee Dorsey
5. Joker and the Thief- Wolfmother
6. ABC- The Jackson Five
7. Orange Crush- R.E.M.
8. Don’t Stop Believing- Journey
9. Amphetamine- Everclear
10. Strawberry Wine- Deanna Carter
11. Sinnerman- Nina Simone
12. Tyler- Toadies

At Least I Am Funny

Me vs. Me
Photo taken by Chris McMahon

What happens when the laughter stops? Uncovering the insecurities masked by a good sense of humor.

By Rebecca Starke
News You Can Use Editor

This idea of self-confidence has always plagued me. I have a loving family, great friends, strong sense of self, and a great sense of humor that I consider my forte. Despite my list of attributes, I have trouble facing certain issues like weight, career, and relationships or lack there of, and replace it with a joke, anecdote, or an impression that will no doubt turn the attention away from these issues and focus on my ability to be witty.

I am going to hit the nail right on the head and address the biggest issue that I think in certain aspects affects the other issues: my weight. My weight fluctuates more than the than the coke scale at Lindsey Lohan’s house. I am not a delusional person. I am aware of the fact that I could stand to lose a few; the step forward was figuring out how I got here and why it’s a reoccurring problem: I eat my feelings. When I am upset, nothing makes me happier that a juicy burger followed by a huge bowl of ice cream. If it’s been a really bad day, I seek comfort in pizza, as if having a salad could somehow make me feel worse. This uplift only lasts about five minutes until I realize that this is the reason I could only wear a black dress/moo moo this summer.

Finding something to wear isn’t my only dilemma, it’s finding the motivation and time to do something about it. I have become one of my biggest pet peeves, someone who constantly complains about something that they are unwilling to change. I will go in spurts of tremendous energy and motivation to get off the couch and exercise. However, those spurts are short-lived and the re-runs of Friends seem much more important when the time comes to make the choice. Hence the fluctuation; welcome to my vicious cycle.

While the rest of my friends made the wise decision to continue higher education, I dropped out when I was 20 to work at TGIFriday’s where my worth was determined by my pieces of flair. I wore 37. I have since quit my job at the home of the Ultimate Hawaiian Volcano and Sesame Jack Strips and moved on to a desk job where the only requirements are that I show up on time, and I don’t get too drunk at the Christmas party. Hats and suspenders are optional. Having a full time job where you are confined to a desk and a phone is a huge element of the weight gain, that and the warehouse guy that insists on bringing in doughnuts every morning,. Thanks, Ron.

I am 27, a sophomore in college, and feeling really behind when compared to those I surround myself with. I wouldn’t say that what I do for a living is an embarrassing job. It’s just boring and not really what I see myself doing for the rest of my life. So to mix it up a little, when I go out with my friends and meet new people, I have adopted an alias thanks to Karen from Will and Grace, Anastasia Beaverhousen, the sex therapist for senior citizens. I am not really proud of this little white lie and I apologize if any of you have been the victim in this little prank, but in my defense, it was really fun.

I am single and loving it! Or am I? I have done a really good job convincing myself that my lack of a relationship is by choice and I just don’t have time for it right now. The truth? I would love to be in a relationship! However, my track record these days consists of a wedding date that fell asleep at the head table at a wedding and a guy who’s engaged, yet failed to tell me. I refuse to believe that this is what’s left for the single gal. The lack of prospects isn’t the only setback; I am surrounded by people that are all married or in relationships. With that being said, my married friends aren’t in the business of “let’s go guy hunting.” There is also the issue of my weight; could that be a reason for the lack of prospects? As I slap myself across the face for being so ridiculous, I remember that although attraction is important, I would like to stay away from those that shallow.

When asked why I am not in a relationship, I usually respond as Bridget Jones would, “Because underneath my clothes, I am completely covered in scales.” That usually ends the conversation! When I do meet possible prospects, by the time I reach that point of interest, this person already thinks my name is Anastasia Beaverhousen, the sex therapist. How does one get out of that lie with an invitation for a date? I might be better off using the “bend~n~snap,” and just tell them my real name.

Despite the fact that sometimes these insecurities get the best of me, I know who I am, and I like that person. I know that regardless of my form, I am a genuine person with a generous heart and I surround myself with people who reflect those qualities. I do know at the end of the day, these issues don’t determine my worth and in the grand scheme of things it’s who you are on the inside that is the measure of a person. But if for some reason I find myself reaching 500 pounds, with a job selling ceiling tiles, and end up an old spinster living with 30 cats, I do know this---At least I will have my humor!

Just Breathe

Sometimes what we think we want isn't always what we need.

By Jessica Rougeau
Senior Staff Writer

This moment seemed to make its way into my life all too quickly. I felt utterly ambushed and came to the startling conclusion that perhaps I was not as ready for this as I thought. The next morning I'd be heading off to college.

As I scanned the old room around me, the room I’d lived in most of my life, I thrived off the comfort that at least things here would be just as I left them when I came home. The leaving really was the worst part in all of this. I'd be leaving my family, friends, and a romantic relationship I knew would suffer, but with mutual promises to work through it, we agreed to stay together. I went to bed that night so nervous I didn't even dream.

Going away to college could have been amazing, if I went there as the person that everyone knew. The person I was before I entered an emotionally abusive and co-dependent relationship. I used to be an extremely outgoing person who welcomed new eye opening experiences, but I found myself holding back constantly and did not have it in me to open up to all these new people I was meeting. As much as I tried to deny it, I knew the cause was this person I was with. This person had been slowly chipping away at all the good parts of me, controlling every single move I tried to make, until I had reached the lowest I'd ever been. I felt like nothing and it inevitably forced me to feel like it was true because I continued to love them and wanted it to work.

This is where everything began to fall apart. I stopped going to class, partied way too much and way too hard, I had an insane amount of trouble sleeping because my mind would race with the worst of thoughts. I kept many of my friends and family up at night worried sick about me, and I was numb to it all for awhile. Everyone did what they could in a powerless situation like this, and the one person I wanted to care the most carried on beautifully without me.

I would come home from school every other weekend to work, and nothing was the way I had left it. My relationship was falling apart. This person was too "busy" to see me, and sometimes we wouldn't speak for entire weeks yet somehow we were still in a relationship. I didn't understand, couldn't understand how a person was capable of treating someone this way. I felt confined and helpless until one night I confessed everything to one of my best friends. I poured out all my pain in front of her, and I finally told her I wanted to die. I was never so serious in my life.

The next morning I heard my mom and brother whispering in the other room. I had an awful sinking feeling that some of what I said last night had gotten to them.

The next thing I knew, I was in a car with my entire family on the way to Yale New Haven Hospital, I was told I'd only stay there a night after talking with a doctor. One night turned into a week. Another car took me to the psych ward and I turned to look out the window at my family, devastated on the sidewalk, as the car pulled away. I repeated in my head "just breathe," like they were the only two words I'd ever known.

During my stay there, I'd met so many girls who had been through much worse, and it motivated me to participate actively in all the programs they had for us and be honest with my doctors because parts of me knew I could do this on my own now.

As scared I was, I know now it saved my life, and my very best friends had everything to do with that. I realized I needed a change of scenery after I returned to school and finished out the semester. I felt it was better to stay closer to home.

I enrolled at Housatonic Community College, supposedly only for a semester, but one semester turned into two and this year I'm beginning my third. Although it took me almost two years to recover from what happened, I know for certain it would have taken longer if I wasn't surrounded by people that love me and good opportunities. My grades have improved, my health and attitude are back to the way they used to be, and my overall outlook on life has completely changed.

I know I've come out of this stronger than I've ever been and learned so much about people, love, and relationships that I refuse to make those same mistakes again.

It's important to persevere through the hard times in order to be grateful for the good ones and to prove to yourself that giving up is not an option.

Dealing with People

Are you a student at HCC who is stressed out from work and people in general and don’t know how to deal with it? Here are some helpful hints.

By Honer Sofi
Staff Writer

I know from experience students at HCC go through stress and pain dealing with customers at work, and just dealing with people in general. I have three jobs and I am a full time student at HCC. Trust me, it’s hard dealing with people all day long, but someone has to do it.

I always start my day off by drinking a medium regular coffee from Dunkin Donuts. That usually prepares me for the day at work. Then I think about how I can get in and out without any complaints from anyone. Anyways, that’s the life you have to deal with when working for a company like Stop & Shop or other jobs that have to deal with customer service and retail. We all have to work to make a living.

So when I am at work I try not to let the upset customer know that I am just as angry as they are. If I do, it escalates into more trouble and headaches. You have to think about the customer too, because they might have had a fight with someone else before they came to you.

What I do is listen to whatever they want to complain about, and try to fix the problem or reason with them. And sometimes I sing, dance, or just make a joke to make them smile. When you see a person smiling and being happy, it helps make your life easier, and theirs.

But if the customer is an ass, then he or she will always be an ass. There is nothing you can do to change them around. I am talking about the people who like to make everyone’s life a living hell. The best thing to do is to control yourself and not to become one of them. These are the customers that come in the store angry at life, the world, and everyone. They never smile or say “hello” or even a “hi” when they walk in the store. Not to mention the way they throw money on the counter and asking for an item with an angry tone. These people can not be changed trust me I tried lots of time. It just doesn’t work.

For example, the other day a customer came to the gas station that I work at and wanted a refund on a prepaid phone card that he bought earlier, even though the policy is no refund on all prepaid cards. So I told him, “Listen man, I can’t just refund a card for $20 without the boss’s permission because I have to pay out of my pocket if I refund the card.”

Then he said “I don’t really give a damn about what happens I need my money right now or else”. Then he said “I am not leaving this store until I get my money”.

At that point I tried to just ignore him. That’s when he threw the phone card in my face, and said, “Listen, if I don’t get my money right now I am goanna hurt somebody in this store”.

At this point I really wanted to fight this customer, but luckily I had someone working with who broke us apart from fighting.

I didn’t argue with him anymore and called the manager to come and handle it ,or else there was going to a fight between me and the customer, if he didn’t come to the store and take care of the customer. This situation could have turned out differently: if I were to argue with him, it probably would have ended in a fistfight. Sometimes you just have to let someone with more power handle the problem, unless you are looking into losing your job, which is not worth it. If you lose your job, the customer wins.

There are several ways to deal with these kinds of people, but I prefer my way: listen to what they have to say even if you know they’re wrong, and always smile. Trust me; it works.

Then there is school, a place where I try to get away from all of these problems. When I am here, I actually have a chance to study and forget about all the headaches of dealing with people and their problems.

By reading my story you all should know how hard it is working part-time or even full-time job for a retail store that deals with customer service, and why school is so important to go to and graduate from. Trust me, from all the experience I had working part-time at Stop & Shop it made me realize that there is nothing more important than school, because that’s the only way you will succeed in life. Or else you will end up working miserably for the rest of your life.

It's My Life!

Why Not Take Control?


In order to change we must be sick and tired of being sick and tired. We must also realize that the power to modify our state of being lies in our own hands.

By Janiece Jackson
Arts & Entertainment Editor

Have you ever dealt with a subtle case of anxiety in which all that is in you wants nothing more than to swiftly make it through the day, yet an incontrollable lackadaisical force overpowers you? I know that feeling far too well. Not only have I defeated my ultra laid-back alter ego; I have mastered a little trait called “all togetherness.”

For the greater part of my 22 years in existence, I battled with lack of motivation. Forget about completing tasks; getting started on them was the hard part! At one point, my parents thought it would be a good idea to change my last name from Jackson to Procrastinator.

I had good grades in school. All I set myself to, I completed and quite well. However, there is no doubt in my mind that motivation, time management and a little extra “umph” here and there would have made my early years of learning fundamentally enjoyable and less mandated.

So shortly after high school and early into my college experience, I decided to alter my way of living. My then current employment at a health facility had quite an impact on my uncompromising need to change.

Being surrounded by sound bodies, minds, and souls, forced me to realize that perhaps I too needed to be one with myself and all aspects that make me who I am. It just seemed like a great notion to be a little more on point. If I could find great motivation in taking care of myself, perhaps I could find even more joy in punctually and fruitfully completing and presenting all that was expected of me.

From that point on I took matters in to my own hands. I took advantage of my gym membership, transformed my physique, and became girlishly athletic. I love waking up and having a great mini-workout in the morning. It allows me to productively make it through the day, and turns my vigor off just in time for a great rest.

At one point in my life, I faced an indescribable case of exhaustion, in which I wanted to give up on all that was before me. The four to six hours of restless sleep were simply not enough to help me make it through my work-filled day. I could no longer live a life that lacked peaceful slumber, so I prepared a schedule for myself that would get me back on a timely and healthy track. My schedule provides adequate time for all of my responsibilities, including the recommended seven to nine hours of sleep.

It’s a common misconception that in order to be healthy we have to give up eating anything that taste remotely yummy and stick to eating things that taste like chalk and grass. However, I realized that chocolate frosted & rainbow sprinkled donuts, and a Capri Sun were far from being a part of a well-balanced breakfast. I scheduled a free consultation with a nutritionist and got some great tips on how to balance my diet. As a result, I now know which foods give me energy to help me sprint my way through my to-do list, and which ones keep me wondering, “Where should I begin?”

The difficult part about changing your lifestyle is coming to terms with yourself and realizing that it is necessary. Once you have taken that step most things in life begin to flow with pleasant consistency.

If nothing else in life, we are presented with an opportunity to take complete control of our physical and emotional states. Unfortunately, we are not provided with an owner’s manual at birth that explains how to systematically live our lives. However, we are blessed with the ability to live up to the highest standards.

Come join me in living a life of healthy bliss. It is important to know what is good for you as an individual and what will keep you on your feet and ready to march forward. I don’t regret changing my lifestyle and what I allow to be a part of it. After all, it’s my life; why not take control?

Little Piece of Home

Sometimes to get ahead you just need a little piece of home to push you through.

By Ashley Chapman
Senior Staff Writer

Let’s take a little trip down memory lane, that broken, painful, tear-flooded lane. I HATED high school (though I secretly miss the simplicity of it all). The only thing that makes high school bearable is your best friend, and the same thing goes for college.

Going into a new school was an extremely nerve-wracking experience. I did not want to go to college - I actually wanted nothing to do with it. I was perfectly comfortable living at home, waking up at six in the morning, going to high school—dealing with the ridiculous drama, then going home and doing whatever.

But when I tried to tell my parents I didn’t want to go to college, they, like many parents, didn’t want to hear it. So we decided to “ease” my way into college and it seemed best to go to a community college first. It would be cheap, close to home, and I wouldn’t have to deal with an annoying roommate. The only problem was that my best friend was attending Western Connecticut State University. Shot to the heart.

None of my other friends were planning on going to HCC either. They decided on an array of different schools. One went to NYU, another to Marymount, one to Post University. I was mortified. I felt like a lost puppy. Who was going to be my study partner? Who was going to sit with me in the courtyard? These ridiculous questions, which were my main concern, flooded my mind. And before I got the answers, school was in session.

Well, first day of class was an experience in itself. I called my mother when I was two seconds away from the building, flipping out. I couldn’t get myself to turn into the parking garage. She told me to basically suck it up and just deal with it. I dealt with it by hanging up with her and calling my best friend, Jessica. Talking to her made me feel more at ease. She was my little piece of home intertwined in that very cell phone. As we were talking, I ended up in front of my class. It was the moment of truth. It was game time. I was officially a freaked out college student.

The whole year is still kind of a blur. I went to class, did my work, got good grades and counted down the days until all my friends were coming home. I was not myself at all. I was rather quiet, which is unlike me, and I didn’t really go out of my way to make friends. Some people may say that I was insecure, but I don’t think so. I just think I was broken hearted, to be honest.

I called Jessica every day. We would talk about how much we didn’t like school, our problems that were going on, and her new friends. I went to go visit her a lot, but it wasn’t the same. Then I made it my mission to grow up and apply to Westconn.

In the midst of applying, working retail, and doing my school work, Jessica called me and was telling me about what was going on in her life. The conversation ended with her telling me she was moving back home and going to enroll at HCC. We both were really excited. We both had declared the same major when we were around five, so we knew we would be taking basically every class together, and our grades would boost. That’s the thing with having a true best friend. A best friend makes up for your shortcomings. And that is exactly what happened.

Stepping into school with Jessica felt like stepping into a new life. We actually wanted to learn, and we looked forward to class. On my off days, when homework was the last thing on my mind, she pushed me. When she didn’t feel like going to class because she was too tired, I showed up at her house with a coffee in tow to give her an extra little boost. It was amazing, and still is.

We have been going to school together now for three semesters, and we obviously have taken every class together. Of course, there are times when we goof around, or take the day off—but we always do really well. I really can’t stress enough how important I think it is for people to feel comfortable at school. My comfort is Jessica.

10 Years Apart

A Story of Two Brothers
By Rob Sheftic
Staff Writer

On a crisp autumn day in the fall of 2001, a fourteen-year-old boy is outside playing with his neighborhood friends when he sees his older brother stop by to see the family, shortly after moving out of the house. As his older brother walks up the driveway and past his younger brother with a “ hey what’s up little bro” the boy realizes that there really isn’t much a brother-brother relationship going on here; in fact, there hasn’t been any type of relationship going on at all. The one thing that stands out between them is that they’re both sporting their favorite football team by wearing their New England Patriot hats.

When you and your brother are ten years apart, in most cases it will be difficult to really form any kind of bond. When you’re ten and he’s twenty, you’re really not going to be spending much time together or hanging out because there’s just too much out in the world that a twenty-year-old can be doing. You as the younger brother have your own friends,. and there just really isn’t any reason that you would be hanging out with a twenty-year-old. There isn’t much that you can talk about because with an age separation like that, you’re each experiencing completely different things and you couldn’t possibly relate to each other. One thing that we did have in common, and really all that seemed noticeable was that we were each brought up to be fans of the New England Patriots and up until 2001; that was all my brother and I had.

That same day in the early fall of 2001 as my brother was getting ready to leave, he asked me a question that 1. I had never heard before and 2. Left me in shock... he asked me to come over the next day and watch football with him. Now just the question alone had left me with a feeling I really never felt before. My brother who looks forward to every Sunday, watching his team go out onto the field and compete, and here he is asking me to be a part of that with him. I played it "pretty cool" simply saying “yeah that sounds good, I'll see you at game time." Meanwhile, inside I'm ready to burst because I'll get to experience a Sunday during the football season with him. As I went to sleep that Saturday night, I remember finding it very hard to shut my eyes because all I could do was imagine what the day would be like ahead of me.

The sun came up that morning and I simply couldn't sit still. I had to go for a morning run just to get moving. I was just too excited to sit around and wait for game time to roll around. I arrived fairly early to watch some pre-game with him, and the rest is all history. Since that day in 2001, there have only been two or three instances where we didn't watch the Patriot's games during the football season. There just isn't much that's going to stand in our way of not watching the games together. From blizzard weather conditions during the winter all the way to a severely sprained foot (where I could not drive and he came and picked me up.) If I count it up, that would make this on-going season the seventh season that we continue our tradition.

What makes this whole story perfect for me is that it’s more than just football. Since that first game together were able to talk about anything that not just brothers would talk about, but best friends. We talk on the phone or text message now nearly every day. In 2005 he was married and I was the best man at his wedding, and shortly after his wife had a baby boy. I am proud to be the boy’s Godson. Day in and day out you see a relationship that for about sixteen years just wasn’t there. He’s always there if I need to talk, as I am there for him. For me it’s really tough to put into words that you can understand, it’s simply just been a blessing and a joy for me knowing that I now have that brother that I technically always had, but that I now have that brother-brother, actually more like best friend to best friend relationship.

Perfection?

The Truth about Christianity
This article challenges the misconception that Christianity and perfection are somehow linked.

By Sarah Hooper
Senior Staff Writer

“He who thinks that he is finished is finished. Those who think they have arrived have lost their way. Those who think they have reached their goal have missed it. Those who think they are saints are demons.” (Henri Nouwen, The Genesee Diary)

As a little girl, I didn’t believe in impracticable things, at least not for long. I saw the world in small increments and, unlike other kids my age, the impossible seemed impossible to me. Everyone talks about their view of God as a child, but I didn’t really know God.

Make it personal; It’s about you and God!

Photo courtesy of www.holyghostonline.com

My Nana, my great-grandmother was the first person to talk to me about God and to take me to church. I was eight years old. Her impact wasn’t from the things she told me about God or the church she brought me to; it was who she was. Looking back, she seemed different from the rest of my family,having been the only Christian.

It was a span of nine years until I went to church again. My Nana died and any hope she had in me breaking the generational curses in my family seemed to have gone with her. God and the whole idea of being a Christian appeared unattainable to me; so when I walked into church again at 17 years old I felt completely out of place. I was a colossal screw up and my background wasn’t filled with Sunday school and youth groups. As these thoughts multiplied, so did my feelings of inadequacy.

If these people only knew who I really was, what I come from, and what I’ve done. What was I thinking coming here? My sins wouldn’t even compare to theirs. Four years later, I now know I was wrong. What separates Christians isn’t sin: it’s repentance.

Romans 5:12 says, “For all have sinned and fall short.” Therefore, the connection between Christianity and perfection is a myth. The belief that once you except God in your life you never make mistakes again is untrue. Becoming a Christian doesn’t mean you stop being human or suddenly have it all figured out. This fallacy is what made me feel insufficient and what I think separates people from God in general.

Two years ago, my faith lead me to do something that I alone would have lacked the courage to do; After 19 years of silence I wrote my father a letter and initiated contact. Two years later, I can barely remember a time when he was gone. That transformation revealed to me the power of prayer.

This past year has been the biggest test of my faith since I’ve become a Christian. Now I am forced to figure out what Christianity means in my life.

Someone told me once that relationships are always in constant motion, always moving, whether it’s forward or backward. A relationship with God is no different.

I think for so long I only saw what was above the surface. However, accepting God isn’t about image, it’s about relationships, a relationship with him. Therefore, your childhood, your past mistakes, even your future ones, are not enough of a reason to not know him and they don’t make you different. Your relationship with God will never be perfect, because nothing is, but it will flourish.

My ability to make colossal mistakes still creeps up on me. The little girl who couldn’t look ahead is still there and because I had no picture of God as a child sometimes he feels unattainable. However, the realist in me knows that when I was 17 years old my life changed forever.

The October Chase Begins: A Baseball Playoff Preview

WEB-EXCLUSIVE!
By Rob Sheftic
Staff Writer

These pitchers will be looking to carry their teams to the promised land.
Photo courtesy of www.sportsline.com

As the dog days of summer have come to an end ,and the cool crisp October nights begin to take place, the long awaited baseball postseason begins. From February to September baseball teams go through a daily grind just looking for one thing: to be able to play in October and obtain a World Series Championship. The American League and the National League will both be represented when the playoffs begin, with each team vying for that opportunity to pop the corks and toast the champagne when all is said and done.

The American league is all set with Boston, Cleveland and Anaheim winning their divisions. The wild card spot is filled by the dreaded New York Yankees, meaning, yes boys and girls, it will be yet another October where both the Red Sox and the Yankees will be heading for the ultimate prize: a chance to play in the World Series.

In December, Boston was declared the favorite to win it all this year. They made the biggest splash during the off-season when they signed free agent Daisuke Matsuzaka, a Japanese pitcher who joined a pitching staff that already featured starters Josh Beckett and Curt Schilling. The Red Sox also have one of the youngest premier pitchers in the sport to pitch their ninth inning in Jonathan Papelbon.

With all their pitching as well as an offense that still has names like David Ortiz, Manny Ramirez, and Kevin Youkilis, it seemed as though Boston would have an easy trip through the season, into the playoffs, and to a second World Championship in four seasons. The Anaheim Angels, Cleveland Indians, and, especially their century-long rivals, the New York Yankees will all be looking to derail Boston’s chances of capturing another World Series title.

The Anaheim Angels in the post-season is becoming a nice tradition for all their fans, having won their third divisional title in four seasons. Led by slugger Vladimir Guerrero and his 27 home-runs and 125 runs batted in, he will continue to be counted on to be one of the most feared hitters going into the postseason. One aspect that Anaheim has that none of the other teams going in can compare to is their speed. Chone Figgins, Orlando Cabrera, and Reggie Willits all finished in the top 20 in stolen bases this year according to espn.com. These three will be looking to reach base and run havoc around the base paths causing problems for any opposing pitcher.

The Cleveland Indians are one the most surprising teams to be heading to the playoffs this year. This will be their first playoff appearance since 2001. The main reason Cleveland is heading into October is because they have the best one-two punch in starting pitching that baseball has to offer. C.C Sabathia and Fausto Carmona combined to win 37 games this season. Sabathia posted a career high in earned run average (ERA) with a 3.21 according to sportsline.com. Carmona also had an ERA of 3.06. Each pitcher has consistently shown the ability to dominate and will be tough to beat. Throw in the fact that a team could potentially see these feared starters two times each in a postseason series and that could make life hard for the opposing hitters.

What kind of October would it be if the New York Yankees weren’t apart of it, besides a pleasant one? All kidding aside, the Yankees are back yet again. They started out their season pathetic by fans’ standards as well as Yankee standards. After the all-star break, that was all forgotten. The Yankees were one of, if not the, hottest team in baseball during the second half of the season. They even came as close as one and a half games behind the Red Sox. Although they were unable to catch them, they easily won the wild card. One name carried their offense through all the struggling times and all the way to their postseason clincher: Alex Rodriguez or, what most people will be calling him when this season is over, MVP. A-Rod only led all of baseball in just about every category: home-runs (54) RBIs (156) and slugging percentage (.645). Nobody is discrediting the season that A-Rod put up, but in the back of every Yankees fan’s mind is the fact that since A-Rod has arrived in New York, his offense has disappeared in the playoffs. If he can’t produce in the playoffs like he did during the season he will undoubtedly face more public scrutiny. I know which way I’ll be rooting for.

The National League had what some people may think of a “below average” season of sorts. The Chicago Cubs tied for the best record in the league with 90 wins while each team to win a division in the American League won at least 94. One quote that everybody who has a mind for baseball repeats in their head once the playoffs start is, “Once you get to October, anything can happen.”

That’s the exact mindset that the Cubs are taking as they head to the playoffs chasing a World Series Championship, a championship that has eluded them since 1908. Chicago’s offense was exactly what was expected of them after bringing in prized free-agent outfielder Alfonso Soriano. He recently set a major league record for home-runs by a lead-off hitter in the month of September with 14 according to chicagocubs.com. After Soriano follows Derek Lee and Aramis Ramirez both of whom had solid offensive seasons each hitting above .300 respectively.

There’s one key for a team to be successful in the postseason and that’s successful pitching. Chicago will feature a one-two combo of Carlos Zambrano (18 wins during the season) and Ted Lilly (15 wins). Those two pitchers coupled with Chicago’s potentially powerful offense lineup could be the reason the Cubs win a Championship for the first time in nearly 100 years.

Arizona is also a team that caught many by surprise. The Diamondbacks really don’t stand out to many people, but they do one thing that’s essential: they win ball games. They have an ace pitcher in Brandon Webb who, during a span between July and August, went 49 innings without allowing a run, which lasted five consecutive starts. They don’t have a flashy offense like some of the other teams, but they do enough to win the games they need to. They don’t make many errors, they run the bases well and they know how to finish out the games led by closer Jose Valverde and his 47 saves.

In one of the most memorable “collapses” in baseball memory, nobody will ever forget what happened on the final weekend of the baseball season. The New York Mets had a seven game lead in their division with 17 games left to play on September 12. The Mets had seemingly punched their ticket to October since there was no way any team could let that lead slip away.

WRONG! The Mets went 5-12 during their last 17 games only to see the Philadelphia Phillies catch them leaving each team with identical records heading into the final game of the season. The Mets never showed up to play and were bludgeoned by the Florida Marlins 8-1 while the Phillies took care of the Nationals, easily winning 6-1. Since the beginning of the season the Mets were assumed a shoo-in to be playing when the postseason began, proving once more to everybody out there that no lead and no team is a guarantee to make the playoffs. The Phillies never stopped playing out their season, and due to an embarrassing collapse on one team’s part, they will be one of the eight teams left playing in October.

The Colorado Rockies and San Diego Padres took a different approach then the other teams did in making the post-season. For only the seventh time in baseball history the playoffs were not set in stone after the 162 game season. With Colorado and San Diego tied with the same record, a one-game playoff had to be played after the season concluded with the winner getting the final spot in the National League. In one of the most entertaining games that I’ve watched in a long time, these two teams weren’t ready to go home after the traditional nine innings. Both teams were tied heading into the 13th inning when San Diego scored two runs to go ahead in the top-half of the inning. Colorado was down to their last breath and it wasn’t getting any easier when San Diego’s prime time future hall-of-fame closer Trevor Hoffman coming into the game to do what he does best: finish the game and send the opponents home packing.

Colorado had a different idea. Backed by a home crowd that never stopped cheering since the beginning of the game, the Rockies ran off a string of three hits and a sacrifice fly to surprise everyone and punch the final ticket to the 2007 Major League Baseball Playoffs.

One month...Eight teams....One trophy...Enjoy the ride

Don't Be Ashamed of Your School: Pick Your Head Up and Have a Little Pride

By Melissa Pinto
News Editor

The author, Melissa Pinto, outside HCC.

Due to a jam-packed Spring 2007 Issue 3 (a record-breaking 32 pages long!), the picture above didn't make it into the print edition, but it was too good to waste...

The full text of Melissa's editorial is repeated below.


I've done it. I know a lot of you have done it. When someone has asked you, “Where do you go to school?" you made a face, shrugged your shoulders, and replied, "Housatonic."

Enough is enough. Pick your head up, and say it with a little pride. "I go to Housatonic, and it's not bad like you think it is."

About two weeks ago I overheard a conversation. Sadly, it was a family member of mine. As I listened in on a conversation between an over- zealous family member and my younger brother, my temperature began to rise. I heard him say, "And don't think you are going to that Housatonic school. You are going to go to a real college."

Never before had I had much feeling on what people thought of where I currently studied…until then.

HCC gets a bad name solely based on ignorance. People assume because we are in downtown Bridgeport that there must be thugs, drugs, and violence roaming the campus. Odds are, if you're silly enough to believe that, you probably haven’t been downtown recently. Growing up in the area, I’m proud to say that the area gets a little better every year. In my opinion HCC's campus has only added value and a better reputation to the respected area. Never has there been a single day in the two years that I've attended HCC that I've been afraid to walk down the street to the deli on my break, or to walk to my car after dark, contrary to popular belief.

Ignorant people also assume because we here at HCC are just a community college, that it's not a "real degree". Like hell it's not. I work just as hard as Joe Shmoe who goes to Quinnipiac. I still pull all-nighters, and write long, outlandish 15-page papers. The difference is, I'm not paying $30,000 a year to do it. I'll pay my small tuition for two years and save my money before I'm forced out the doors and into a high priced university.

By the way, Joe Shmoe is just a number. At UConn or Southern, Mr. Shmoe is known solely based upon his social security number and gets lost in a sea of a hundred faces in his freshman English class. My English teacher knows my name here at HCC. He knows I'm there without a sign-in sheet or having to read roll call, and, to me, that counts for something. Not only am I graded on my written tests, here at HCC teachers have the ability to factor in your eagerness to learn.

On top of all of this, here at HCC I found my inspiration: a teacher. As corny as it may sound, when I came here, I was uncertain of my future and or career, lacking motivation and just going through the motions. One fall day, upon walking into a new classroom, I came across a teacher who would soon change my life and, more importantly, my way of thinking. Because of the student-teacher relationships that HCC prides itself on, I was given the gift of a teacher who cared. Most friends I know who attend large universities were never lucky enough to have their inspiration placed right in front of them.

Recently I have been accepted in a well-known, reputable school in New York City. Not only did I get accepted, I was awarded a large sum of money to attend. The humdinger is, two years ago, this university would have not only slammed their door in my face, but would have had quite the chuckle too!

HCC gave me an outlet to work hard, bring up my grades, and finally make a name for myself. I feel that, in some cases, high school students don't comprehend the severity of "grades" until it's too late. In my opinion, school is an area of life that you aren't able to prosper in until you are ready. HCC gave me a place to finally "be ready" and to erase the times when I was not.

Although starting in the fall I too will become a Joe Shmoe, and probably just a number in a crowd, for two wonderful years, HCC gave me a place to just be me, and that is something worth being proud about.

Wanted! (Click on the image to see a larger version)

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. – A Prolific Author Remembered

ONLINE EXCLUSIVE!



By Brandon T. Bisceglia
Staff Writer

I first chanced upon the works of Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. in the fifth grade, when my class read the short story, “Harrison Bergeron.” It was the story of a society that had decided to literally cater to the lowest common denominator in every possible way. Strong people were laden with weights. Intelligent people had buzzers in their ears to periodically interrupt the reasoning process. But one man overcame these shackles, finding that working against them made him more powerful than he could otherwise be. In a world of restraints, he refused to acquiesce.

This tale of freedom was not only uplifting -- it was told with an intriguingly imaginative flair. Soon after reading the story, I began wading through Vonnegut’s other quirky novels: Cat’s Cradle, Galapagos, Timequake, and so on. Each book had a serious poignancy that shone through his amusingly anecdotal style. It kept me looking for more from the talented, if cracked, writer.

The most personal and controversial of his fiction works was Slaughterhouse-Five, which was in part a fictionalized account of Vonnegut’s experiences in Germany during World War II. There, an extremely fortunate event occurred – he was captured by the Germans and became a prisoner of war. This was fortunate because his duties incidentally saved him from annihilation when the Americans firebombed Dresden, a cultural hub with no conceivable military significance beyond being in Germany.

For years, Slaughterhouse-Five was banned from schools and libraries for its gruesome imagery and anti-American sentiments. It inadvertently raised him to the status of counter-culture icon. The catch phrase (oft repeated in the novel), “So it goes,” became timelessly popular in literary circles. Today, the book is required reading in many classrooms.

On April 11, 2007, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. died. He had suffered brain injuries from a fall in his Manhattan home a few weeks prior. He was 84.

The spirit of this irascible man would be impossible to reproduce. In his own time, there were few authors with the same inventive, curiously dark humor. He scribbled pictures of wide-open beavers – both kinds – in his novels. He dubbed Manhattan, “Skyscraper National Park,” because it seemed to him as if New York City had sprouted from the ground. He smoked, calling his habit a, “fairly certain, somewhat dignified, form of slow suicide.”

Though he primarily wrote fiction during the 1960s and 70s, his focus during the last 20 years of his life shifted heavily to non-fiction. In 2000, he taught advanced writing at Smith College, and in November of the same year, was given the title “State Author of New York.” He had, by then, over 20 books in print. He had taught at Harvard, been awarded an MA by the University of Chicago (for Cat’s Cradle’s contribution to cultural anthropology), and acted as President of the National Institute of Arts and Letters. He had adopted his sister’s children when she and her husband had died suddenly. He had been married several times, and had once attempted suicide with alcohol and sleeping pills. There was little the man had not experienced.

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. was not unfamiliar with death. He had written about it in many ways. On one notable occasion, he wrote a secular requiem. He told a reporter from New York Magazine that he wanted to present something that didn’t require the fear-provoking notions of heaven and hell. Instead, he built it around the idea that, “There’s nothing to fear in the afterlife, so I just had everybody sleep, ‘cause I like sleep.”

What made him a true satirist and an inspiring human was the underpinning optimism he retained within his dark attitude. He claimed that he wanted his epitaph to read: “The only proof he needed of the existence of god was music.”

It is a shame he did not live to see it.

So it goes.

The Inside Story of the Student Senate

The hard working Student Senate Secretary (me) at work.
(Photo by Rebecca Starke)

ONLINE EXCLUSIVE!

By Shanar Fraser
Staff Writer

The Student Senate is a wonderful club to join that teaches all about politics and the procedures that go on in our government. It is made up of a group of students, and what they do is govern the clubs, plan events, and serve as the voice of the students.

To become a senator, all you have to do is have fifty of your fellow students fill their name on a sheet of paper. After that, you turn it into Shante Hanks’ office. Then you go to an executive board meeting, and they put your petition on the agenda for the following Wednesday’s meeting. You go to the Senate meeting, and they give an interview of sorts, then they vote you in or not in. That is the process of becoming a Senator.

After you have served a least a year as a regular Senator, you can be nominated for the executive board. The seats on the executive board are President, Vice President, Treasurer, and Secretary. The other positions that the Senate have is College Senate Representative and Foundation Representative.

I first got to know the Senate as a club rep for the Black Student Union. After about a year, I wanted to join the Senate. Shortly after I joined, their secretary resigned, and they needed a new one.

I nominated myself for that position, but it was on an interim basis until they got a new secretary. That was back in 2005.

Then the spring elections came around, and nobody was running for Secretary, so I nominated myself to be the official secretary. It was in 2006, and I won that election.

Then in 2007 I did not run for anything, but the Secretary once again resigned, and in mid-semester I asked the president if I could fill that vacancy, and he said yes. So once again I became the interim secretary.

Some of the committees that I was on include the Activities Committee and the Finance Committee. I helped to plan the Student Senate Luncheon and Appreciation Day. I also went up to the capital to meet other Senators from other schools.

Some things the Senate could work on are planning some more events for the night students, and discussing stuff in a timely manner.

What the Senate does well is helping out other clubs when they need help, and being there for the students, like when a student needs help with something they come to the Senate.

The Senate is really a great club to be a part of. It gives you some leadership abilities and gets you to the higher levels in the school. Plus it allows you to help your follow students.

So if you do not have anything to do, or if you have some free time on your hands, then the Senate needs you. Stop by the Senate office, which is in C110, to pick up an application.