Welcome UB freshmen! If you're reading this, I congratulate you for hauling yourself out of bed and on to campus this fine Wednesday. Some of you may have even arrived at class during the "morning," that is, during the hours after midnight and before noon.
Those of us who are lucky enough to commute to campus in our own private vehicles are very familiar with this "morning" concept, because we must arrive at 4 a.m. each day to get en queue for a parking spot within 10 miles of our classes. (Right now an administrator somewhere in Capen Hall is preparing to tear his hair out at that comment, having spent what I'm sure was too much of our money trying to figure out this whole parking dilemma).
So, while we commuters, part-time and otherwise "non-traditional" students have some adjusting of our own to do, those who are living in dorms for the first time are facing a real challenge. I'd like to guide you all through an exercise now, if I may. Faculty and staff, this will be good for you too. Take a deep breath, now.
Imagine, if you will, all the people you know; friends, acquaintances, that kid who won't stop coughing three rows ahead of you - everyone. Now imagine the people you know who aren't jerks.
Having significantly narrowed the pool, now think carefully about which of those people you would be able to spend one continuous week with. Now imagine you must spend that week in a box about half the size of a Baldy Hall restroom. Puts the whole roommate thing in perspective, doesn't it?
I'm sure all you freshmen are tired of all the anti-drinking, anti-drug, anti-Playstation-when-you're-supposed-to-be-studying-for-those-classes-I'm-paying-for propaganda. Don't worry; I'm not about to bore you with such warnings. You'll smoke and drink and eat junk food and die before the age of sixty if you really want to anyway; it's no skin off my nose.
Now wait just a minute, I hear you cry. AIM is supposed to let me keep in touch with all my pals from home and, best of all, it's free! Ladies and gentlemen, nothing is ever free. You will pay for your addiction (and that is what it will become) in blood, sweat and tears.
AIM is a gateway drug to hardcore websites like http://www.theSpark.com and other online pastimes like Web logs and networked games such as Everquest and Counterstrike. I guarantee each of you who read this will visit theSpark if you haven't already and spend at least 20 minutes of perfectly good time taking meaningless "personality tests." Consider it a lesson; it hurts me more than it does you.
Contrary to popular belief, the worst thing about AIM is that it's free. Couple that with "free" electricity in the dorms and before you know it your brand new Dell will be on for 30 days straight and you'll have been "away from your computer" for nearly half of them. Imagine if crack-cocaine were free and came with little smiley faces. That's AIM.
Symptoms of an addict. Symptoms include red, watery eyes above circles that indicate severe lack of sleep. Watch the suspect closely for twitching or jitters when he or she is forced to be away from his or her computer for any length of time. If the suspect changes the away message more than five times in one standard hour, you may want to consider intervention.
Stopping the madness. If you or someone you love should display any of the above warning signs of AIM addiction, you may need to take action. Wait until the addict must leave his or her computer to answer nature's call, and then defrag the hard drive. He or she will thank you later. Be sure to escort the addict or alert library staff in areas of public computer access to thwart attempts to use Web-based derivatives like AIM Express or Quick Buddy.
Forewarned is forearmed. For some of you, it may already be too late. Those of you who have resisted must be strong. The future of humanity is in your hands.
