DTH Omnibus Page 3
Thursday October 26, 1989
AY WIHW7
Bubblegum rock star infestations and
militant Mary Kay Rainbow goes on a date
' y friend Rainbow had a date
last week.
Which really surprised
me, considering that Rainbow thinks
all men belong to a sub-species of
the dung beetle.
"Hey, Rainbow," I asked her one
time, "What do you think about
men?"
She gurgled a response and hocked
onto the pavement.
"Even me?"
She gurgled a response and hocked
onto the pavement.
Rainbow is one of those funny
characters who, like a lot of Ameri
cans these days, is deficient in one
major area of her personality; namely,
her personality. So when Rainbow
has a date, either the guy's deaf and
blind, real dumb or real desperate.
"Male scum," she told me, using
her cute nickname for me, "I have a
date Friday night."
"Who with?"
"With a disgusting, perverted,
puke-o-rama, filth-of-the-planet man
type thing."
"You make him sound so attrac
tive," I said. "Why are you going out
with him?"
"He asked me."
Blind, deaf, dumb and desperate.
"Rainbow," I asked, trying to be as
delicate as possible, "when was the
last time a guy asked you out? Come
on, be honest, was it in the '80s?"
"When was the last time you asked
a girl out?" she retorted.
. "Leave my personal life out of this,"
IWI
A Freshman Odyssey:
I still remember lying in bed at
2 JO a.m. the night before I left
for school, wondering what UNC
was going to be like with that whim
sical poem going around in my mind:
'Ttwis the night before college and
straight through my door,
I heard my father giggling, "Ha,ha!
One more day, then no more."
My bags were neatly packed to suit
my image at school,
Shoes by Nike, backpack by Jans
port, I had to look cool.
I thought in my bed as 1 looked at the
time,
"Go to sleep, idiot and end this stu
pid rhyme."
So I did, and before I knew it I was
a freshman. Of course I was clueless.
Allow me to elaborate.
The first meeting with my orien
tation counselor was confusing. I
asked her how I could get involved
in some of activities and she said,
"To do anything around here you
have to go to the Union. The Union
has everything." With visions of team
sters and Jimmy Hoffa, I listened to
John Bland
I said, "we're talking about you."
"1980," she said, rather proudly.
"For the seventh-grade dance at
Willowdale Junior High."
"1980? Sheesh, you mean you
didn't even go to your prom?"
"HA!" She got this look in her
eyes, like she'd just swallowed a bottle
of Texas Pete. "Proms are for scum
sucking pigs like you who think just
because you ask a girl out and dress
up and take her out to an expensive
dinner and then dance with her
among a bunch of immature, mind
less children, you think that means
she owes you something, like cheap
sex in an cheap hotel room that you
aren't even old enough to be in!"
"Absolutely," I smiled, then re
moved her fist from my eye socket.
"So what did you do while all your
immature, mindless classmates were
having fun?"
"Sat around and read The Bell Jar.
And I loved every minute of it!"
Something about this troubled me.
Since the last time a guy asked Rain
bow out was sometime during the
Paleozoic era, I figured she had to be
in shock. She couldn't make any ra
tional decisions. She had started to
think like a regular girl! This was dan
gerous. Rainbow's the kind of woman
who gets militant about everything,
Bryan Tucker
the rest of the meeting. My O.C.
spewed off more initials than I could
keep in my head. I do remember R. A.
had something to do with housing,
TiA. had something to do with aca
demics, and S.O.B. had something
to do with her last boyfriend.
Then she said, "Okay you guys,
now I'm going to take you on a tour.
We will end the tour by going to
South Campus, and I don't know if
it's open now, but I'm going to try to
get you guys in the Dean Dome."
Being a moral dude I wanted no part
of this, so I took a tour on my own.
I wanted to see the Old Well, so I
asked another freshman where it was.
Big mistake! Not only did she not
know where it was, she didn't even
know what it was. I told her it was
very famous and you might find a
picture of it in the local newspapers.
She replied, "Oh yea, that's the place
where that poor Baby Jessica was
even tight shoes. If she started think
ing like a regular girl, who knows
what she'd get militant about!
Maybe. ..no, it's too horrible, but
maybe...Mary Kay?
Yep.
A few days later I saw her again.
She was wearing make-up! Not just
some base and a dash of lipstick, we're
talking the whole deal. She looked
like something out of a Poison video:
blue eyeshadow, caked-on beige base,
Revlon No. 4 red blush streaked like
Indian war paint and Cover Girl
maroon red lipstick lathered on so
thick it looked like she'd kissed a
can of Dutch Boy.
"R-Rainbow?" I stammered.
"Don't call me Rainbow!" she
shouted. "Call me by my Christian
name Laverne."
"Rainbow, quick!" I hollered.
"Think Buffy St. Marie! Think Glo
ria Steinem! Think Joan Baez! For
God's sake, think Phil Donahue!"
"Yeah, he's kinda cute, isn't her
"Rainbow, you can't do this! Come
on, let's go to a rally! Let's go protest
tuna! Or CIA recruitment! Or Play
boy! Or the High Kickin Heels!"
"Naah," she said. "I wonder who's
mixing with the KA's tonight?"
"Rainbow, please." I had to be very
careful with this one. "tell me the
guy you're going out with is in a band
or likes earrings and black outfits."
"Nope," she said, grinning like a
half-melted Barbie doll, "he's a Col
lege Republican."
It was worse than I thought!
O-Cs, Old
trapped, right?" I thought for a min
ute, decided it wasn't worth it, and
said,"Right".
I set off on my own and bought a
Daily Tar Heel from an upperclass
man who, fortunately, had them on
sale. I asked him where I could find
local nightlife, and he directed me
to a place called the Undergrad which
supposedly had many rowdy social
gatherings. I took his advice but got
lost and ended up talking to my room
mate for the rest of the night about
how much we missed things at home.
I told him I missed my high school
and the way my dad called me "stud
duck", and he could sympathize. I
was really homesick that first night.
The next few days I was prodded
to several orientation meetings and
activities. We were herded like cattle
to events such as Freshman Convo
cation. I still remember Brien Lewis
calling Carolina a "lullaby." To me
it seemed more like the theme from
Rawhide. Can you hear it? "Head 'em
up, move 'em out. . ."
The first week melted into the first
month as I went through drop-add,
the swimming test, football games,
At that point I knew what I had
to do. I had to perform an exorcism.
"Rainbow, listen carefully to me,"
I said slowly. "Repeat after me: All
men are scum."
"All...men...are...sc...sc...sc..um."
"Women will eventually rule the
earth."
"Women will... cook and clean and
do the Mommy Track!"
"Rainbow, stop! Pull yourself to
gether! If you don't, I'm gonna have
to slap you in a sensitive liberal
manner!"
Then she started gyrating and sing
ing "Electric Youth." She was pos-
She was possessed
by an evil Debbie
Gibson demon!
sessed by an evil Debbie Gibson
demon!
This was a tough one. This only
way to exorcise an evil Debbie Gi
bson demon was to start singing any
song by Ray Stevens in a very loud
voice. It's something I don't normally
do (except on weekends) but this
was an emergency.
She was to the third chorus when
I swung in with "Everything Is Beau
tiful," which has been known to kill
large numbers of bouncy teenagers
when sung right. The demon replied
Well and stud ducks
buying textbooks and all the other
exciting hells at U.N.C. I started
tough classes, where the startling
realization hit me that I had done
about as much work in high school
as the Prince of Monacco does at
Club Med. I barely made it through
midterms, and now that fall break is
Of course I was
clueless. Allow me
to elaborate.
upon me, I have had some time to
reflect.
Actually, it is only now that I re
alize how wonderful being a fresh
man is. Some people may remember
that first year at college as a blur of
mistakes and embarrassment, but for
me it's been a chance to strike out
on my own and experience new
things.
Daniel Manatt of Duke's student
newspaper, the Chronicle, admires
freshmen because they keep their
with "Out of the Blue" and I had to
counter with "Gitarzan." We were
going at it, chord for chord, until the
demon switched to "Lost in Your
Eyes" and I had to resort to my last,
most dangerous weapon: "Misty."
What happened next is a blur, but
I remember when I got to the second
verse Rainbow's face looked like it
had been hit with an industrial
strength iron. By the third verse the
demon was begging for mercy (and
so were the neighbors), but I had to
make the exorcism complete: I sung
the last verse like Perry Como.
That was all it took. There was a
huge explosion, and when I opened
my eyes there was Rainbow, back in
black, Revlon-less, standing angrily
before me.
"Have you ever heard of penis
envy?" she suddenly asked.
"Uh, yeah, I'm one of the few males
who suffers from it."
"Well, Freud was way off base with
that," she said. "I mean, it's ridicu
lous to think just because we don't
have them that we're jealous of all
men. And then he said you scum
bags have a castration fear."
"Yeah, especially around women
like you. You're not carrying around
that stiletto anymore, are you?"
"Got it right here in my bag, be
hind my mace and my blackjack."
I'm making sure Rainbow never
has a date again. I mean to tell you, I
don't ever want to have to go through
another exorcism of a Debbie Gi
bson demon. Unless I get paid.
doors open. He writes, "Your open
doors are a powerful symbol of minds
that the newness of the college ex
perience has forced open. To survive
as a freshman is to be able to walk
into a stranger's room and to talk to
a stranger who enters yours." Being a
freshman makes it easier to meet
people.
Manatt also likes the fact that fresh
men have not limited themselves.
They haven't limited their minds to
one field, they haven't limited their
social status, and they haven't lim
ited their friends. Being a freshman
means discovering something new
and exciting everyday.
I often wonder when the newness
of college will wear off; when the
stimulation of unique experiences and
interesting people will become com
monplace. I hope never.
Hey, You! Put
That Pen Down!
Joe Bob's review of Halloween 5
can be found this week on page 9
next to the Movie Listings.