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THE CLUSTER, FEBRUARY 24, 1989-PAGE 7
Small Town USA
I was bored with our bcautimous campus (Poetic License
Number 234-b5-7864) last weekend, so like many of us here
at Mercer I decided to leave the confines of my adopted
residence hall away from home and travel north to the great
unknowns of small-town-USA. I chose for my destination
the city...ah, town...ah, village of Walnut Grove, Ga. t
population 250 (give or take a mutant.).
In order to prepare myself for this infiltration of the
stupid...I mean simple life. I went shopping for my small-
town-USA disguise. I found, in the Army-Navy surplus store
a suitable hat. that worn low enough on the head could hide
my ethnicticity (see poetic license above) and, therefore, save
my hide. And in case that wasn't enough I treked down to
Paul's Magic and Fun Shop and purchased the "latex extra
finger gag" to simulate a proper southern upbringing.
Thusly armed, or fingered if you will, I set forth in my
vehicle of horizontal transport. Now my choice of automobile
was not the wisest because it did limit just where 1 was allow
ed or even able to go in small-town-USA. You see, I don't
drive a pick-up truck. So right there you realize that I can
only reach approximately one-third of the places a native can
reach. Plus, the fact that I drive a french car (a LeBaron)
places me at somewhat of a disadvantage. I just don’t fit in.
But nevertheless 1 set forth on my journey somewhat
hungover from a previous night of. ..um studying (Give me
a break; my mother's got a subscription.). Now for those
of you who don't know where Walnut Grove is, it’s between
these two dots on the map of Georgia. It doesn't have a dot
of its own, but they're working on it. If you still don't know
Bubba
Ochoa
where it is consider yourself lucky and never try to find out.
So there I am, on the road heading for small-town-USA
and suddenly I'm heading away from small-town-USA. I
think I blinked. So 1 slammed on the brakes, almost getting
rear-ended by a truck loaded with 3000 chickens, and spun
my car back around, heading once more for-small-town-
USA. Well I missed small-town-USA three or four more
times until I finally stopped at a boiled peanut stand to ask
for directions and maybe get a glimpse of some local color.
Well it turns out that the boiled peanut stand was Walnut
Grove’s city hall and the vendor was the mayor. When I ask
ed him where the rest of the toym was. he replied in a tongue
that wasn't English. Fortunately. I brought my Hick-to
English dictionary so with some effort I was able to translate
his words. It went something like this:
Me: A lot has been mentioned about enrollment projec
tions. Who has been determining the enrollment projection*,
since 1982? y
Him: Well, 1 don't know that I can give you a full descrip
tion of that, exactly who has played what role in enrollmei.t
projections since 1982. There have certainly been a lot of
people involved in that process, but the more important point
is that those projections have been constantly too optimistic
in certain programs. '
Me: Who exactly saw these projections? I understand that
people are saying they never saw these enrollment
projections?
Him: You know, 1 really wouldn't...that would be specula
tion on my part. I really wouldn’t try to identify who knew
or didn't know. But that to me would be submitting. Do you
want to buy some peanuts?
So I bought some boiled peanuts. It's amazing that you
can take such an innocent thing like a peanut, soak it in dir
ty salt water in a very unhygenic steel drum, stirring it with
a two-by-four and scooping it out with an old coffee can.
and have it come out tasting quite so bad (Mike Provan has
promised me a boiled peanut night next Thursday.).
Well so much.for small-town-USA. I left with my neck
unstretched and only a stomach-ache, so I considered myself
extremely lucky. Later that night I discovered that the local
color was a puke-green with matching odor (Boiled peanuts
just don't agree with me.).
My advice to you future travelers: Don’t go to Walnut
Grove or any other place that still uses confederate money.
But if you do I’ll lend you my extra finger so you can fit in.
(I wish to apologize to any of the residents of Walnut Grove
that may find this offensive when they read it.) (Right, like
they can read.).
Roland Ochoa is a columnist for The Cluster.
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