A day in the life

It occurred to me this week as I was sifting through news applicable to this column that I have only two or three of these little missives left before I graduate. In between the increasingly desperate search for news that isn’t filtered by big media bias, my campus e-mail account occasionally reminds me of this with advertisements for graduate school seminars, job interview workshops and that all important senior gift.

I’ve given a lot of thought to what I as a senior owe my alma mater and I’ve come to the conclusion that a new plaque, bench or sculpture may be a noble addition and well in keeping with tradition, but it isn’t really enough for me. I want to know that when I leave, the steps I took to encourage a more informed discourse on this campus will continue to resonate. A previous class gift (or alumni donation, I can’t remember which, offhand) reminds travelers every day as they exit Hughes-Trigg that there’s a great deal to be said for starting new paths for other peopl e to follow, instead of blithely wandering along the well-worn highways of thought and purpose.

But I really hadn’t the faintest idea what I could do to ensure a legacy worthy of SMU, even with all its faults, especially since I’m laden with plenty of my own special failings. That’s when I took a good long look at my cache of saved columns, a hoard that has grown to 46 single-spaced pages, and thought to myself, “Why shouldn’t this go on long after I’m gone?” I mean, I can’t really afford one of those nice bricks, nor do I like the idea of having my name stepped on every day as people grudgingly enter Fondren Library. True, there is something almost poetic in being remembered by a solid stone helping make the reluctant journey towards enlightenment a little easier to take, but come on! A brick?!

So after much thought, I came up with an answer I think I can be comfortable with. I’m sending out the call now to whoever wishes to assume the challenge that These United States needs a new writer. Ignore the double-entendre there for a moment and consider the opportunity. In order to do that though, I should tell you what goes into an average column so that you’ll have some idea what standard you’ll be held to. In that spirit, I’ve decided to do a sort of day in the life of a column. As you will see, that day is rarely limited to 24 hours.

But there is a significant limit on space. Originally, I could not expand beyond approximately 900 words, but that has since been negotiated as high as 1,200 in one rare case. Brevity is the soul of wit and you must remember that there’s got to be enough room on one page for a cartoon, editorial, letters to the editor and frequently another columnist.

So last Thursday, I was in touch with my editor, Jonathan Dewbre, about wh y my last column had been delayed (an annoyance you’ve got to endure every now and again) and I found out that it hadn’t come through as an attachment to his account, so it would have to go through on Friday. This is also the day I typically begin searching the news for the next week’s column. By this time, it was next to impossible to find anything that wasn’t coming out of Israel. When Tuesday rolled around, about 15 hours of searching hadn’t turned up much that I could string a readable narrative out of and still put These United States next to in print. Fifteen hours is the average and it’s sometimes very difficult to find that time. That means you’ve got to keep your eyes peeled for things going on in your backyard, like senate runoff elections or the appearance of a war criminal.

And the occasional crisis frequently gets in the way, so be on your toes. By now you’ll have heard about the fires in Shuttles Hall, which had all of us outside for roughly an hour as police and f ire marshals investigated. This was around 6 a.m. and it was followed up by a fire drill at about 1 p.m. To the would-be columnist, events like this should be ripe opportunities for getting the full story. Remember that as a columnist, your opinion is just as much a part of the story as the data.

For example, I really paid for missing out on Rudy’s visit to campus, mainly because I figured that if press aren’t welcome, then I’ve got more important fish to fry. But I wasn’t paying attention; otherwise I would have remembered the student forum. So there I am, missing out on a golden opportunity to find out some more about that sticky New York federal relief fund from a guy with a real stake in seeing the Big Apple get what it deserves.

And here again is a case where someone went above and beyond to get the story. I won’t give out any names, because I can’t be sure whether or not this was told to me purely in confidence, but regardless it’s a pretty cute story. One of our p hotojournalists managed to get herself and a group of other press folks a chance to catch Giuliani on his way out of the Student Center with a neat ploy involving a cell-phone that reported sports scores (including the Yankees, who were winning at the time 7-1). Giuliani made no effort to avoid them or their questions and it was quickly revealed that he had no idea that press were not welcome at his speech. Giuliani figured that if that’s true, it must be an SMU or a Tate thing, because he believes in a free press.

It was a wild week, all things considered, with stories emerging every ten minutes. Maybe the coming weeks will tell us more about Turner’s shot at becoming NCAA president, the role of faculty advisors in student programs or exactly how it was that Shuttles Hall nearly burned down. Anyone who wants to take this spot will have to have that nose for opportunity, a superior command of the language and the dedication to get the story out on time and within the lines.

They should also have my contact information, 214-768-5314 and [email protected], because if anyone wants to get their hands on my column without my approval, they’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers.