April 3, 1997

Stereotypes: Do you dance to bongos?
Jeremy Ball
Assistant Features Editor

We apologize for the long delay in our series, but I think that this week's stereotype of discussion will make up for it.

What about those hippies?

My curiosity is not without good reason. Just today in passing conversation I heard someone refer to a classmate as "that hippie girl".

Hippies are everywhere. Chances are that if you're reading this then you either are a hippie or you know three or four people who are.

But before I even start (or before someone tries to tie me up with hemp rope) let me reiterate that the purpose of this series is to break down stereotypes.

That's hard to do, though, without making fun of the stereotype first.

So, shall I take a second to define exactly what I mean by the stereotype of a "hippie"? OK. Here's the test. Do you: a) own and wear hemp jewelry b) allow your dog to run free on the mall and spend all of your time there c) wear those shirts that look like aprons without any backs d) play any form of bongo or think that "drum circles" are cool e) own any Dead paraphernalia f) have a desire to dread your hair or allow your hair to go unwashed for extended periods of time g) reek of petchulli? If you answered yes to more than two of these questions, then you might fit the description of a stereotypical hippie.

That being established, the question is this - why? Modern hippies were, after all, not always hippies. No matter how hippie you are now, if you're honest with yourself, at some point you thought that parachute pants were cool and that Ronald Reagan looked like your grandpa. You're just like everybody else!

Are hippies just another group of college kids subtly rebelling against society and yet finding themselves all looking like each other? Or does the lifestyle reflect personal convictions?

Melissa G. Bost, a freshman from Raleigh, says that the stereotype doesn't really bother her. In general, she feels like the hippie lifestyle is something that reflects her beliefs and interests.

"I wouldn't really call myself a hippie but if someone were to stereotype me that's probably what I would be called".

Bost says that she feels that the modern hippie movement has a spiritual side which she likes. She also adds that many hippies are concerned about the environment which she also values.

"I'm not trying to live back in the "hippie days". If the stereotype is that I'm friendly, peaceful and happy then I'd say that I am all three of those".

But, Bost says that she is not lazy or drugged out. She is, after all, working to complete a college degree and is planning to teach kindergarten.

There are many things about the hippie stereotype which Bost doesn't like. "Petchulli smells like dirt", she says. She is also quick to add that she does bathe regularly. "There something to be said for hygiene".

Bost also says that she likes the Dead but they're not her favorite band. "I like Phish too but I've heard a lot of bad things about the following they've attracted now".

"A lot of people say that "hippie is a state of mind" but that there are a lot of hippie hypocrites", Bost added. Bost says that she also can't stand the hippie jive. "People come up to me and say "hey man, that's some diggidy-dank, what's going on brotha'" and I'm just like shut up."

In the end, it's pretty clear that it is pretty silly when certain judgments are made about people based upon their external appearance. Bost added, "People are so much more than their stereotype. You can be judged by what you look like or who you're with or where you are, but it's not really who you are."

Just because someone likes different things doesn't make them lazy or a drug addict.

This writer found Bost to be very well informed and articulate. If that's what a hippie is, I'll trade in my Doc's for Birkenstocks any day.

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A day in the life of a parking enforcer
Jeff Sprouse
Staff Writer

The pale blue Parking Enforcement Blazer pulls up behind a Volkswagen Jetta with a kayak strapped to the roof. Ri Nakamura, parking enforcer, checks the vehicle's sticker, and immediately knows he's got a freshman dead to rights.

From a window high in the Coltrane Residence hall come the usual chants. "Traffic Nazi!", "Get a real job!" the faceless hecklers shout.

Nakamura calls for a tow truck. While he waits for it to arrive, the vehicle's owner emerges from the building. His head is down and he keeps saying, "Dude, Dude, I'm just picking up some of my friends."

Nakamura just shakes his head. "Well you should have gotten a loading permit from the traffic office," he says, while trying to call off the tow truck.

But it is too late. The tow truck has been dispatched. In a way though, the freshman is lucky. While he still has to pay the $20 summons, he'll save $20 on the tow by "settling" the matter with the driver.

"I don't like to find freshmen, it's a lot of bucks. I put four kids through school and know how it is. But he is depriving someone who paid good money for that spot from getting it," says Ri.

Prior to ticketing the freshman, Ri had to ticket another student who had parked behind Coltrane, right in front of a "no parking" sign. The student came running out (It's funny how the appearance of a traffic vehicle can bring so many people to their cars).

At first, the student took the ticket without argument. But as Ri pulled away, the student could not resist the human urge to transfer blame. "I would have parked out front but it's full. Maybe if you did your job and got rid of some of them I would not have parked illegally."

But its all in a day's work for Ri Nakamura. Only on the force since October, he's heard all of the excuses and knows all of the tricks.

Like leaving the hazards on. "All that means to me is that I should check for an emergency. That's like leaving a sign on your car that says give me a ticket."

Or the ever popular backing in a spot to hide the fact you have no permit. "Do that and be sure we'll check it out."

Other tricks Ri is wise to include the note left on the car saying "batteries dead" or "keys locked in door." "We can offer assistance in these situations. Often times if you sit and wait, sure enough someone will come along and start the car right up."

Contrary to popular opinion, Ri is not an ogre. Far from it. Tall and lanky, a gentle voice and disposition, he does not fit the stereotype of the fat, dumb traffic cop who could not get on the real police force.

Nor is he mean and vindictive. He does not take pleasure at the misfortune of others. "I try to treat everyone with respect and I expect them to do the same. After all, it's just a job."

Ri came to Boone three years ago from New York City to retire from a job at a major bank. When finances became a little tight, Ri took the job as a parking officer to supplement his income.

While there was over $400,000 collected in fines last year, the university currently only has five "temporary" parking officers and three student officers. Temporary is in quotations because although these people work 40 hours a week, they do not receive benefits nor any sense of job security.

They are severely understaffed, according to Ri. But this does not mean your chances of getting a ticket are less, because they cover a lot of ground. So take the bus, park where you're supposed to, or steal official state license plates because they can park wherever they want without recourse.

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Market boy to the rescue
Jason Foster
Reporter

If you've ever journeyed into the campus convenient store, The Market, you've probably seen Bryan Tinsley. He's the tall guy that usually works behind the counter. Actually, there are two tall guys who work there, but he's the one with black hair.

Tinsley works in The Market from 4:30 to 6:30 p.m. and then 10 p.m. until midnight on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. He also works from 4:30 until 6:30 p.m. on Tuesday and 5 p.m. until midnight on Sunday. It seems he works as much as the full-time employees at The Market.

"I like to work," says Tinsley. "It builds character and the contact I have with other students makes it all worthwhile."

Despite this good attitude, there is a sad side-bar to this story: most people who shop at The Market don't even know Tinsley's name. They simply refer to him as "Market Boy." They don't say this to his face, of course, because that would be too sad. That is just the way the common student may refer to him in a casual conversation with his/her friends.

Although it seems he may have been stripped of his identity, this doesn't bother Tinsley. He thinks it's kind of funny whenever he's walking across campus and he hears someone say, "Hey, there's Market Boy." While this may seem like something that rarely occurs, Tinsley says it's a fairly common occurrence. If they don't use the above phrase, it's usually something similar.

By now, you are almost certainly feeling sorry for Mr. Tinsley because of the trauma he experiences being "the man without a name." But let's think about it. Is being known as Market Boy really all that bad? The name does evoke a certain superhero-like flavor. Can't you hear it now?

"Faster than a speeding bullet. More powerful than a locomotive. Able to stock Crunch ‘n Munch in the blink of an eye. It's Market Boy (insert Superman-esque theme music here)!

By now you're probably thinking, "Wow! This is an interesting article—I want to read more!" Well, I aim to please. Here you go...

Tinsley might just have to be a superhero to work all those long hours at The Market. His job is, in his own words, "very intense." You're probably thinking, "What exactly does the Market Boy do?"

Well, he basically sits behind the counter and runs ID cards through the register—real life and death stuff. He has also been spotted doing other things from time to time.

"It can take a lot out of you," says Tinsley/Market Boy. He hopes his will to work hard will carry over into his professional career when he graduates. He's a computer science major, by the way.

Tinsley quickly dismisses any talk of his superheroness (Is that a word?)

"I'm just like everyone else," he says.

Isn't that what they always say?

Even though he thinks being a superhero would be cool, Tinsley says that the title of Market Boy isn't as powerful as Superman or Batman (though I think it's a better name than Aqua Man or Green Lantern), and the powers that would come with such a title aren't that impressive.

Though he didn't mention any specific powers, I have racked my brain to come up with some possibilities. Here they are, in no particular order: 1) the ability to guess the exact price of something without ringing it up, 2) the ability to make good rubber band balls, 3) the ability to learn the eating habits of loyal shoppers, 4) the ability to become very good at the Kevin Bacon game, 5) super-spelling. I don't know why I chose super-spelling. It seems like an obvious choice, though, doesn't it?

He's right, though. Those aren't too impressive, except maybe for super-spelling and the Kevin Bacon thing.

Well, you judge for yourself. Is Mr. Tinsley a superhero? Is he really just an employee at The Market? We may never know.

What we do now know, however, is his real name—Bryan Tinsley.

So from now on, whenever you're in the market and see a tall guy behind the counter (the one with black hair) say, "Hello, Bryan Tinsley."

Eventually, the word will spread and the label of Market Boy will finally be shed.

I suppose an actual picture of Tinsley would have really made this story complete, but I thought it needed a little irony. Mr. Tinsley would probably agree with me, or maybe he wouldn't. I don't know.

[back]

Going postal: One man shares his story
Jeff Simms
Reporter

The ASU Post Office certainly has to be one of the busiest two or three centers of activity on campus. Since most of us are in there at least every other day, most of the faces have grown increasingly familiar. Hopefully, this will help us to learn more about who these people actually are.

If you've ever bought a stamp or picked up a package, odds are you've met 31-year-old Rick Wallace. Wallace, a Boone native, is one of the smiling faces behind that mysterious counter waiting to help solve our postal problems.

Wallace said that he has been with ASU for almost seven years, and added that he'll probably "be here until the ripe old age of retirement."

When asked what he enjoys most about working in a university atmosphere, Wallace quickly responded with, "meeting students on a one-to-one basis." That answer was repeated several times while I spoke with him, as Wallace genuinely seems to love working with college students.

"(Dealing with) kids is really enjoyable for me," he added.

Wallace also commented that, "Overall, it really pays off when people compliment your attitude." He repeated more than once that his positive interaction with students is the most rewarding aspect of his job.

Wallace also spends a great deal of his spare time volunteering with the Watauga County Parks and Recreation Department. He officiates Little League baseball, softball and basketball, working with kids ranging in age from 10 to high school age.

What else does he do with his summers off? He doesn't get them. Wallace, and the rest of the ASU Post Office staff work all summer long, though he hardly seemed to mind.

"The same operation goes on, you just see us a lot less," Wallace concluded with a smile.

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Cult suicide helps spread comet feaver
Jeff Sprouse
Reporter

The sharks smell blood and they are in a feeding frenzy, myself included. The 39 Heaven's Gate members who committed suicide are the prey. Any news program, newspaper or magazine promises full coverage of the tragic event.

Journalists are searching in every corner for dirt, no matter how relevant. Like the headline of Monday's Watauga Democrat, "Cult Leader Lived in Boone."

It seems that Herff Applewhite was the musical director at Horn in the West in 1963, long before he joined the cult.

Just think, you may have eaten at the same restaurant, sat in the same movie theater seat or urinated in the same urinal as the now dead cult leader. It chills the bones to think you may be connected in some strange way.

But he was not weird back then, nor was he in the limelight. To get noticed he and his followers had to kill themselves.

But first they had their beliefs. Formed in the early 70's, the cult believed that a spaceship would take them out of this realm to the "True Kingdom of God." They spent their time preparing for this exodus, wearing baggy clothes to de-emphasize gender, and surfing the web.

After a failed reunion with a UFO in the late 1980's, the cult bided their time. Then came the appearance of Hale-Bopp, and the rumors of a UFO hiding behind it. "Hale-Bopp's approach is the ‘marker' we've been waiting for," the cult stated on their web site.

So they took their exit from this world. Strangely, it coincided with the Christian resurrection week. It is both sad and tragic. But they died with the firm belief that they were going to a better place.

Is this a precursor of things to come? As the millennium approaches, as the comet flies through the night sky, can we expect more general weirdness? I think so. Just look at history or log on the web.

Since ancient times, comets have always been an excuse for general mayhem. Kingdoms fell, rulers got killed, and wars broke out whenever a comet graced the skyline.

Nor is Heaven's Gate the first group to commit suicide over a comet appearance. In 1910, when Halley's comet came towards earth, astronomers detected poisonous cyanide gas in its icy tail.

People, thinking the world was coming to an end, started killing themselves. In America, at least eight people died by jumping from bridges and buildings.

In fact, the word "disaster," comes from the Latin for "bad star."

As far as the end of the millennium, people always freak out over a change in the date. Just look at Yeat's poetry and his crazy notion about the circular nature of time. "What Rough Beast Slouches towards Bethlehem."

So, not to worry y'all, the end of the world is not near. There is probably no UFO hiding behind Hale-Bopp, but I can't be sure. And if there was, there is nothing we can do about it. So just sit back and enjoy the freak show.

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