I was at the ATM and my car wouldn't start.
Dad: What do you mean it won't start?
Me: It won't start. Nothing. It won't start.
Dad: Are any of the lights coming on? Is it making a vroom vroom noise and then dying or what?
Me: No, no vroom vroom. Nothing. It's not doing anything. I'm turning the key and everything is just black. Nothing's happening. It all went black.
Dad: It can't just not be doing anything. It has to be doing something.
Me: It's not doing anything. It's dead.

Only convicts and suicide victims get to choose how they die. The rest of us are just innocent victims of the Grim Reaper's death lotto wheel. Not even my 84' Cadillac Cimeron got to choose its fate on that day -- it was just making a quick stop at the ATM. Only lunatics are given the luxury of crafting their own death. Most recently, Timothy McVeigh, convicted of killing 168 people in Oklahoma City in 1995, suggested in a letter to The Oklahoman newspaper that his May 16 execution be nationally televised. In December, McVeigh surprised many with his decision to stop appeals against his death sentence. According to officials from the Federal Bureau of Prisons, a nationally televised execution is unlikely to happen, while a closed circuit telecast for the benefit of the victims' relatives is a possibility. McVeigh suggested the nationally televised execution after questioning how a closed-circuit telecast could be done fairly. In his letter, dated February 1, he wrote, "because the closed-circuit telecast of my execution raises these fundamental equal access concerns, and because I am otherwise not opposed to such a telecast, a reasonable solution seems obvious: hold a true public execution -- allow a public broadcast."

The only thing that seems unfair to me about this whole situation, nationally televised or not, is why this guy gets so much power in controlling his own death? You know, I'm really not looking forward to dying either, so is there some way I can get a lawyer and just appeal the whole death thing? Even my '84 Caddy got a second chance at life thanks to my dad's mechanical talents. I should at least get my day in court, just like McVeigh. Maybe plea bargain a little bit -- some community service for a few more years of playing shuffle board in a retirement home in Florida. And go ahead and bring the cameras in, too. I've got no problems with that, either. In fact, you can even strap me to an electric chair and do me in that way. Whatever looks best on TV and whatever will get me wedged behind Survivor II: Australian Outback on Thursday nights. Maybe we can even figure out a way to kill me and work it into the show. Like maybe the castaways can throw me to the wild dingoes.

Or maybe there could be an immunity challenge where Jerri, the aspiring actress, will have to develop a recipe to turn me into beef jerky and pass me out at tribal council. Of course, Kimmi, the avid vegetarian, will have to pass on that one. None of this could ever happen, of course. Why? Because only lunatics get to choose how they die. Us regular folks get to just go along with our lives until one day we get knocked down by cancer, or heart failure, or even better, a Ryder truck full of explosives. And poor people have it far worse then anybody. About a week ago I interviewed a woman who had developed and beat breast cancer. Of course, her story is far more complicated then that. While fighting breast cancer she also produced an improvisational theater troupe to help others in their fight, developed an art exhibit and multi-media performance in which she starred and toured throughout the Hampton Roads area, and created a portfolio of poems and pictures documenting her fight which has since shaped into a manuscript with the hope of becoming published and passed out to cancer patients in hospitals.

It is all very noble. I truly believe that. But what is unsettling to me is the fact that this woman is very financially well off. Rich people get cancer and write poetry and books about it. They choreograph interpretive, rhythmic dance numbers chronicling their tragic demise and throw cancer parties in their well-furnished oceanfront homes. That's what rich people do. Poor people get cancer and die. You go over their house one day and they are bundled up on the couch, wrapped in plaid blankets and watching M*A*S*H re-runs. You know they are dying. They know they are dying. But no one talks about it. Not even a whisper, much less and interpretive dance number. It's bad enough that newspapers only cover poor people when they break the law, revolt, or hurt someone. They were ignored in life; do they really have to be ignored in death too? I don't want to go out like that. But I don't have the money to throw a cancer party or even put on an off-off Broadway play.

If I had a choice on how to die -- I say, go simple and go alone. Alone meaning without a disease or a person taking credit for your demise. I would want to be walking down the street somewhere and suddenly my whole body would give out. Everything would just give out at once -- my heart, my mind, my nervous system, the whole shebang. I want to die while experiencing life, not death. No pain, no fears, no regrets, no worries. No disease to curse, no person to blame. My body would just suddenly collapse straight down to the ground. I imagine it to look a lot like Christopher Lloyd at the end of Roger Rabbit when he drops his human suit to reveal that he really is a ‘toon. Of course, my parents would have to be notified.
Dad: What do you mean she's dead?
Doctor: That's it, she died. Just like that.
Dad: Was it her heart? Her lungs?
Doctor: No. She just died. Everything just stopped working all at once. She just went black.
Dad: Went black? Hmmm, that figures, just like her car.

I have always known that my mouth is my best attribute. I use this wonderful thing to make my point and I have learned how to manipulate it to let people know just how I feel. So instead of being a passive complainer about my financial fate, I went to Richmond on Jan. 31 to let my opinions about the Tuition Assistance Grant (TAG) be known. The TAG is a non-need based program that was founded approximately 25 years ago and has grown from $500 to $2,800 a year. It is a grant that is offered to all Virginia residents attending an eligible, private college full time. However, since it is such a tight budget year, TAG faces cutbacks, and students like myself, who rely on this funding are faced with possibly losing some of their educational money. This year VWC students and faculty decided to invade the Virginia General Assembly 2001 session.

Three Musketeers, Tay Ames, Sherri Shumato and I, joined the team, lead into battle by Kevin Clary, director of alumni relations, and Timothy McDermott, vice president for institutional advancement. We were ready to take Richmond by storm. We hopped into Tim's mini van and after a short pit stop for gum and gas (essentials for any trip), and we were on the road looking forward to what lay ahead. We were on a mission and dressed to impress.. My mission statement: I wanted my $3,000 grant and no Congressman was going to deny me that money. After arriving in Richmond at 9 a.m., we enjoyed a quick bite to eat and headed for the General Assembly. Down the hill, and back up again, that pretty much summed up the commute between all of the buildings. I would love to get my hands on whoever designed the floor plan. They failed to put the buildings together, but rather, decided to space them out to kill anyone's feet. Ask Tay, she'll gladly tell you about her aching feet. Before we even got inside, we ran into Sen. Randy Forbes and began our lobbying process.

"Senator Forbes, can we talk to you for a brief moment? I'm with VWC and I would like to tell you how much I have appreciated your support of the TAG. I would also like to tell you how important it is to me that I continue to get this funding and your support is greatly appreciated." Pat on the back. Smile and support from Forbes and we are on our way again. After this successful first attempt we were feeling pretty good and ready to conquer the world. Kevin gave us a few inspirational words: "Do not stand in the middle of the halls. Everyone is running here and there, so stay out of his or her way. Now, let’s go get them!" And get them did we. Throughout the morning we talked to various senators. We were guaranteed support from Sen. Nick Rerras, Sen. Frank Wagner, and Sen. Randy Forbes. "I support the program for a number of reasons," said Sen. Nick Rerras. "I believe that it is right to provide some financial assistance to the working families of the Commonwealth as they work to provide a college education of their choice to their children.

These grants create a beneficial climate of competition between public, private, and religious institutions of higher education. The people of the Commonwealth deserve to have many quality choices." I was impressed by Sen. Rerras and was glad to have his vocal support. We left him with a VWC note pad. Inscribed on it: Thanks for TAG! We were not alone on our crusade. We were joined by fellow colleges and were seen in packs throughout the General Assembly building. We all wore massive red buttons on our shirts, "Thanks For Tag". This simple phrase was seen everywhere you turned that day and invited many questions about it. I was amazed at how many people did not know about the program. However, I can safely say that Tay made it a point to tell everyone what it was and left no stone unturned. She even got the attention of the school kids running around and took a moment to tell them all about it. Tay, you rule! I believe that we made a great impression on the senators and delegates that day. We were even introduced on the floor by Del. William P. Robinson Jr. when we were watching the proceedings. I must say, however, that I have never seen so many adults playing with e-mail and their computers as I did at the proceedings. I am glad that they are not wasting our tax dollars on such things.

After the lobbying was done, we visited Dominion Towers and joined Alumna Susan Luther for lunch. We toured the Governor's mansion, an old medical classroom, and monument alley. All together, it was a fantastic day. I learned about our political process first hand. I was actually pretty impressed with the representatives. But what impressed me the most is that they took the time to discuss our concerns with us. For some students, the TAG may mean being able to attend VWC or having to attend another institution. Without the TAG, "I would have been a few shades darker from all of the car washes," said Tay Ames. "And I would have had to raise $4,000 instead of $2,000." In the end, we presented ourselves well and supported our cause. Kevin Clary summed up the trip best in the elevator when he stated, "Although we are Talented And Gifted, TAG stands for Tuition Assistance Grant, and we would appreciate your support."

OK, so I am not the most diesel guy in the world. I'm not arguing that. I don't bench 315 lbs., or squat over 400 lbs., but that doesn't mean that I don't like to work out. In fact, I like the feeling I get when I'm done with my workout. You know that swollen, sore sensation. I like how when I get in the shower, I can barely wash my hair, much less reach my back. The next day I groan and agonize over the pain, then go right back and do it all over again. Like many other students, working out is part of my daily routine. But, finding time amidst my hectic schedule is as day-to-day as my bedtime. So, convenience is a necessity. Especially since I don't have a car and I’m trying to juggle at least three extra-curricular activities, not to mention a full class load. So when I do find a little time, I want to be able to go and lift. But there is one little problem, the weight room is not always open. I don't have time or transportation to go elsewhere.

The weight room is open daily from 12 p.m. till 3 p.m., and then it opens again from 7 p.m. till 10 p.m. Women's Soccer and Tennis Coach Jeff Bowers and Assistant Men's Basketball and Men's Tennis Coach Jeremy Marx are in charge of the weight room, located in Pruden Hall. According to Bowers, they would like the weight room to be open from about 8 a.m. to 12 midnight, but it is not possible because of lack of help. Currently the work study program mans the weight room during the given hours. "Right now there are only a certain number of work study students, and we are trying to work around their schedules," said Bowers. "There has to be someone in the weight room when people are lifting because of insurance reasons." That explains why the weight room can't be open all day long. The college can't afford to pay a full-time worker to watch the weight room, so that is why it is left to the work study program.

"It is for your own safety that someone is there when you lift," said Bowers. For example, if someone was to get pinned under the bench and no one was in there to help, and that person got injured, the school would then be liable and would have major insurance problems," Bowers explained. "But because of hours and the poor equipment in our gym, many VWC students have resorted to memberships at outside gyms, such as Bayside Recreation Center. Virginia Beach Recreation Center passes can be obtained at a minimal charge of $35.00 a year. A charge that is very reasonable considering the quality of facilities provided." If you ask me, out of the twenty-some-thousand dollars a year we pay to go here, the least they can do is pay the $35.00 a year it is for us to use a facility that has adequate equipment as well as reliable hours. According to Bowers, the new Batten Student Center will contain a "state of the art, top notch exercise center." The center will include a weight center, an aerobic center, and a cardiovascular center. Approximately $250,000 will be put into the exercise center alone. The plan is for the room to be open from 6 a.m. till 12 midnight, but that is still tentative. Regardless, the weight room is going to be state of the art, and very convenient for everyone. Students will just have to tough it out for a few more semesters until the Batten Center is complete. So, whether you can find time in your schedule to make it to the campus gym, or if you have to resort to a local fitness center, help is on the way. It just won't get here until December of 2001. So until then, I will endeavor to muscle up in our own weight room, despite the hours.