"Dome afterglow" still remains
Mike Marchand
A semester ago, I began attending classes at Notre Dame. I even confessed in my very first column on September 13 that I had "the standard, goofy, freshman-like, first-month-at-Notre-Dame-and-just-can't-believe-it grin on my face." I was told that that would wear off eventually and I would come to realize that Notre Dame is not the Utopia I thought it would be. So I thought I would review the events of the last semester and see just how much "Dome afterglow" I still have left, if any.
My first couple of weeks of classes was a cornucopia of confusion. I didn't know where my classes were. One of them was in a room in O'Shaughnessy Hall that looked like a storage closet. I didn't know how to purchase football tickets. I was absolutely stunned by the $350 I spent at the Bookstore, only to find that I ALSO needed to purchase "course packets" at not just one location, but two: the Copy Shop at LaFortune and the Copy Center in O'Shag. I had to wait in a long line and fork over $79 to get a parking permit, only to find that it was for the most out-of-the-way parking area, C1/Joyce South. I found out that lunches at SDH cost a whopping $7 a pop and dinners were $8.81. I had problems figuring out my e-mail account and web page. I was forced to drop the storage-closet class because I was late or absent three times in the first week and a half.
I finally caught some breaks in the second week of September. In that week, I landed auditions on WSND's "Nocturne" program and WVFI. My brief comments about the Michigan game made the Letters To The Editor section of The Observer, and I was offered a position as a biweekly columnist. For the next few hours after that, all I was capable of saying was, "Whooooo!"
However, the euphoria was short-lived: I didn't get on Nocturne and WVFI's broadcast was limited to students-only by the Administration. Then there was the football season. The worst part was seeing Notre Dame "fans" who supposedly pride themselves on pride and good nature throw tantrums and call for Bob Davie's head on a sharpened stick because of mistakes his players made.
Despite the off-the-field turmoil that reigned this season, I don't regret buying my tickets, attending every game, or watching every play of this year's team. Just being able to shout, "We are ND!" while actually being a part of the ND family was worth every penny and moment. Although the team's 5-7 record will not go down in Notre Dame lore as a great season, the comeback victories over Oklahoma, USC, and Navy will forever mark them as a team with great heart and class. Fellas, on behalf of the few true fans, thanks. And to those of you who feel that your worth as a future Notre Dame alumnus hinges on the record of the football team, not only do you have the wrong mindset for going here, you don't even DESERVE to be here. Go to Florida State, where you know those pesky things like character and doing the right thing will be sacrificed for football excellence and, the primary objective above all else, winning.
My semester ended with possibly the most grueling two weeks of my life. Four papers and four final exams filled a fortnight that saw me go from a mild-mannered Notre Dame student to a snarling, irritable, cranky insomniac. Staying up until almost 7 a.m. to finish an American Literature paper probably didn't help matters any. Mind you, this is in the middle of DARTing for spring courses and all of the hosing that that entails. And, after the semester ended and I received less than $40 back for over $400 worth of books, the sanctions that the NCAA leveled against the aforementioned football program made it open season for sports pundits to slam the University AND its students. We're apparently arrogant snobs. Did you know that?
Finally, the new quasi-millennium arrived, and we were all shocked to learn that our computers, cars, coffeemakers, pacemakers, and cerebrums all still work and were unaffected by Y2K, although I was hoping that my bill would be whatever twenty-some thousand dollars was worth in 1900. And, in the midst of weather more representative of Saskatchewan than South Bend, I passed by the Golden Dome and reflected on my turbulent first semester. And, I'm pleased to report, the Dome shone just as brightly as it did in late August. Or, at least it would have, had the sun been out.
Mike Marchand is a junior English major who is currently stuck in a snowdrift near his horrible parking spot in the Joyce South lot. His column normally appears every other Monday and his e-mail address is Marchand.3@nd.edu.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Viewpoint Stories for Tuesday, January 25, 2000
