Hi 64 / Lo 52
|Volume 68, Isssue 106,
Friday, February 28, 2003
SGA saves the day, our lungs
In its relentless pursuit of whatever they're currently pursuing ? relevance, perhaps? ? the bright lights at the Student Government Association have once again come up with a winning proposal: banning smoking within 25 feet of the entrance to any campus building.
Houston health code already prohibits lighting up there, as Sen. Kim Black (an honors student!) pointed out to the SGA Senate when she mentioned her bill. The health code's being ignored, as you might have noticed walking near any building, but I'm sure SGA will succeed where the city of Houston has failed.
Considering the valiant effort SGA is making at shoving the wishes of a self-important (if very vocal) minority down our throats, I, being as self-important and vocal as they come, have one more smugly sanctimonious suggestion about what goes on near building entrances.
Now, I understand that many of you are attending the University of Houston after release from nearby institutes for the mentally unstable and intellectually indigent, so I'll attempt to explain things in a simple, easy-to-understand manner. However, as I'm an English major, I can't promise anything.
First I'd like to discuss briefly the nature of building entrances and the space immediately in- and outside them. The purpose of this space is a simple one: to allow people to enter and exit the building.
Many of you are already aware of that purpose, I'm sure, since I see thousands of people daily using the entrances for just such things. However, on any given day, I also see many people standing in front of the doors, on the stairs, or in other places that block the free flow of pedestrian throughput.
This blockage results in what I like to call "clogs," groups of people who'd like to move through the area but can't, because a bunch of smurfwits are in their way.
I like to carry around a canister of Lysol's "Crisp Lenin" scent to deal with these "cloggers." When one of them is in my way for no apparent reason, I spray them with the crisp, clean scent of communism.
The other day, I was in Science and Research 1, where, being an English major, I spend the majority of my day trying to move from the elevator bank to Agnes Arnold Hall when a group of cloggers wouldn't get out of my way, so I sprayed them with my Lysol.
One of them was so angry with me he threw his Starbucks cup at me, spilling mocha frappuccino all over my favorite pair of ripped jeans and tempting me to open up a can of whoop-tush and chastise him in a clear, firm voice, but I was already late to my principles of drug action class, so I just followed Paul's advice and let it be.
Salnave, a senior history major, can be reached at email@example.com.
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