Day off would entice students to vote

The next time you see my beautiful mug gracing the Alligator, we will have a new president. No recount. No Supreme Court. Only our 44th president.

Would someone please pass Al Gore a tissue?

As Election Day draws near, I urge you to participate in the presidential election by either Barackin' the vote or doing whatever mavericks are supposed to do at the polls.

Unfortunately, many Gators may not have the opportunity to vote as a result of obligations on campus.

President Machen, I look to you for the solution.

Follow the lead of Bethune-Cookman University and cancel classes on a day where students can learn more by voting or watching election coverage than sitting in a lecture hall checking out the latest rumors on Juicy Campus.

I know Floridians have had the opportunity to vote early, but does voting early feel the same as getting to the polls on Election Day?

A professor of mine said being at the polls on Election Day really makes one feel like an American. Not to mention the fact that UF already cancels classes for asinine "holidays" such as the Friday before Homecoming weekend.

Sorry, Teach, I can't make it to class because I have to help my frat bros make jungle juice for our tailgate tomorrow.

I'm sure many students are already planning to skip classes so they can take in as much excitement as this Election Day can offer. Why not just legitimize their actions and keep everyone from suffering academically as a result of their decision to exercise their privilege to participate in the election process?

We are looking at a landmark election, where the next man who assumes the presidency faces a monumental task of righting the ship of America. There is an economic crisis, a world of social issues and, oh yeah, that little thing going on in the Middle East.

This election has sparked unprecedented passion that may not have existed in individuals in years past.

UF should build upon the newfound interest young people have discovered in the political process by canceling class rather than hindering their chances of being a part of the election.

Sure, the lines will be long on Tuesday, but this is not an election to take lightly. Babies will be crying, people will be chatting away on their cell phones and some crazy people may try to sway your vote, but there is far too much at stake not to suffer for a few hours and cast your ballot.

Six packs have been a mainstay throughout the entire election process; may as well bring one along while you wait in line.

Let me stress that this is not about endorsing either candidate. Rather, it is an attempt to ensure you have the opportunity to go to the polls to have your voice heard.

If you haven't already, go vote Tuesday. If you already took care of business, then grab some friends, order a pizza and take in the never-ending media coverage.

Amid the budget woes, maybe UF could even save a few bucks by closing campus Tuesday.

How's that for a thought, Bernie?

McCain needs to reinvent his image

The growing chants of “start the buses” resonate every time you pick up The New York Times, tune in to MSNBC or check out the latest poll numbers. Much like Clemson’s football season, the McCain–Palin campaign is for all intents and purposes a lost cause.

Thanks for playing, guys; shake hands and go shower up.

What is a politician — in this case, Sen. John McCain — to do when public opinion of him continues to plummet, and Sen. Barack Obama has just scored sympathy points for suspending his campaign to visit his ailing grandmother?

Yes, John, there are some legitimate reasons for suspending a campaign, but I doubt a follow–up would bode too well for you right now. Less than two weeks remain until Election Day, and there isn’t one last look into the Republican bag of tricks to save face?

For McCain to win the presidential election, he must toss the nation a curveball and channel his inner Jay Billington Bulworth.

The 1998 Warren Beatty film “Bulworth” focuses on the final weekend on the campaign trail with a senator who decides to let loose and start telling the nation how he really feels. Instead of sticking to the script, Bulworth begins to enjoy himself and have a little fun with his campaign — becoming a media darling overnight.

Hasn’t McCain pretended to do that the whole time?

I’m not talking about “straight talk” or more of the same humdrum language about being a maverick. He needs to spend a Friday evening clubbing with Curt Schilling in Boston, piss off some people using humor in his stump speech and find his own Halle Berry to have an affair with backstage. Sorry, Cindy.

Even if the real John McCain is a boring, tired old man, he must take the next two weeks to convince the American people otherwise. What does he have to lose?

The McCain campaign must transition from a litany of tired speeches and cliché one–liners to a nationwide rock tour full of shock and awe. It worked once, didn’t it, Dubya?

Like Rocky Balboa shrugging off Mickey in that old Lipton iced tea commercial when he was told “It’s over, Rock,” McCain needs to forget about all the naysayers and find it within himself to woo the masses.

Make an appearance on stage with Lil Wayne. Get a cameo on “Entourage.” Have a drink, John. Live your life.

I challenge anyone to chastise my suggestions for McCain without first looking at what he has done recently without making up any significant ground.

Baseless attacks on Obama about “pallin’ around with terrorists”? Accusing him of being a socialist? Calling into question the man’s religion?

Now that’s brisk, baby.

These ridiculous remarks ooze desperation, digging the McCain–Palin campaign into a hole so deep that nothing short of a Music City Miracle will keep them competitive Nov. 4.

My seemingly unorthodox tips for McCain might very well give him new political life and keep his campaign from being fully zipped up in a body bag. Excite the American people for once and become a larger–than–life figure — it has worked for Obama since day one.

A loss in the presidential election, and that’s all she wrote for McCain. This is his last shot. It’s either win now or face political oblivion; president or put out to pasture.

If McCain can channel the mentality of Jay Bulworth, then maybe he can entertain thoughts of a victory come Election Day.

‘Pacman’ the epitome of wasted talent

Wake up, Adam Jones.

Or are you back to “Pacman” now after your most recent debacle?

Really? Fighting your bodyguard? Your latest fiasco will cost you a huge sum of money and time on the field. Save your apologies for someone else, Adam.

You have been given several opportunities, but you still manage to channel your old self whenever there is a hint of trouble. In any other walk of life, you would be unemployed after the first mistake you made.

Because you’re in the NFL, you have been afforded several chances, but perhaps your time is finally up.

Why must you embarrass your teammates, humiliate the coaching staff and worst of all, humiliate the man who risked his reputation by giving you a contract, Dallas Cowboys’ owner Jerry Jones?

You’re playing for the Cowboys, one of the most storied franchises in the league. They are not the Cincinnati “Bungles.” You don’t deserve to wear any jersey in the NFL, let alone one attached to so many Super Bowl titles.

What is it going to take for you to finally grow up?

With all the criminal charges and foul play under your belt, it’s a wonder you aren’t already dead.

Do I need to list the countless talented young athletes who have gotten themselves into trouble and ended their careers with a leg amputated or zipped up in a body bag?

You are a talented young player who would be a welcome addition to any roster if we’re talking strictly about ability, but you are not a game changer. You are not worth the trouble your personality factors into the equation.

You cannot get mad at NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell. He’s the closest thing you have to someone looking out for your best interests.

If Jerry Jones had his way, you’d be suiting up on Sunday no matter what you had done. He doesn’t give a damn about you. All he cares about is the bottom line. In the NFL, that’s winning Lombardi Trophies.

You have to understand that as an NFL player, you are held to a higher standard than a chump like me. The verbiage gets repeated each time someone in the NFL makes an off–field mistake. Don’t put yourself in the situation to begin with. If you can’t handle your alcohol, don’t have a drink.

Is this too much to ask of a professional football player given the type of paycheck you take home each week?

I don’t have some quick remedy to fix your career, Adam. There is no over–the–counter solution that will magically keep you from turning into “Pacman.”

I’m tired of people asking how willing you are to make football your first priority and to let nothing else stand in the way of that. You don’t have to answer that question anymore — your latest stunt has spoken for you.

Your legacy?

You will be briefly remembered as nothing more than the poster boy for what to avoid on draft day. You will be quickly forgotten as a bundle of talent negated by the fact that you couldn’t avoid off–the–field temptations that have claimed the careers of promising NFL players like Lawrence Phillips and Michael Vick.

It’s only a matter of time before Goodell rips up your contract into a million little pieces.

Don’t forget to make it rain, Roger.

Rays' Story Transcends Tough Times

The sky is falling, and I really don’t know where to turn.

I seek guidance and stability in the trying days of an America where the word “recession” has grimly evolved into talks of another depression.

Where will the answers come from?

Certainly not out of the mouths of Sens. John McCain or Barack Obama.

We see barbs traded about nonissues from the past, resulting in a spectacle that makes a mockery of the entire election process.

Where are the news stories that put a smile on our faces and make us forget — if only for a moment — our stark realities?

I scoured the headlines only to find a murder–suicide in California by a jobless father, the ever–volatile stock market crashing to new lows and the homeless rate in Massachusetts spiraling of control.

In the wake of the media’s perpetually negative press seemingly only meant to overwhelm and undermine the average American, we can look 150 miles down the road to find an awe–inspiring story that transcends the world of sports.From worst to first in the course of one season, the Tampa Bay Rays defy all reasonable odds.Like picking Ben Stiller to win an Oscar or McCain to win the presidency, placing an unlikely bet in Vegas on the Rays to make the playoffs could get a man Gators season tickets for life.

How did the perennial cellar–dwellers of the American League East manage such a dramatic turnaround to finish the season with the best home record in all of baseball?

Did the off–season trade for Jason Bartlett and Matt Garza spark the change? Or maybe the success came from switching up their uniforms and dropping the “Devil” from their moniker? It’s more likely the team came together to play cohesive baseball and found an insatiable thirst for manager Joe Maddon’s Kool–Aid during spring training.

A team not necessarily dominant in any particular facet of the game, the Rays simply played consistently at their best, a true skill that even the most talented of teams cannot master. They are a self–described “fraternity” of players, devoid of discernible chemistry issues that often spell the demise for most teams.

As Americans, what lessons can we learn from the Tampa Bay Rays?

I look to the Rays and see the value of trusting and relying on each other.

America is hardly the Rays. We’re probably more like the Yankees — full of unrealized talent and potential squandered away because of a refusal to work together for the greater good of the country.

I do not foresee McCain or Obama having to perform a tour de force of sorts to fix America; rather, they are presented with an inimitable opportunity to use our country’s copious resources to their advantage.

In a time in which the two candidates should be sticking to the core issues on the minds of the American people, we find them refusing to sweep aside the petty issues of politics, using them against each other in a shameful, disgusting manner.

Why must McCain and Obama make this election about themselves when the true testament of a successful president will not be about an irrelevant past, but rather future accomplishments gauged by the overall health of the country?

America cannot afford to see an election won on smear campaigns when the course of this country’s future will be in the hands of one of these two men.

If the Rays can pull off the impossible, why can’t we?

Little man shouldering economic woes

All right, I’ve had enough with the “Barackin’ the Vote” and “McLeading the Polls.”

I’m so sick of these campaigns focusing on dim–witted sound bites and a whole lot of talk without any hint of substance.

Hey John and Barack: Quit the whole Main Street and Wall Street act because anyone with enough sense will tell you that you haven’t said a damn thing about the economy.


Where are the unsexy, not–made–for–TV stories about people like Brian Bryson that say more about the economy in 500 words than both candidates have said over the course of their entire campaigns?

Enduring the cyclical endeavor night after night, Bryson, a beer vendor for the Milwaukee Brewers, knows that the end of the season draws near. The visage of American struggle, his body coaxes his aching legs to take just one more step as sweat pours from his brow.

What is next for Bryson?

This cannot be the culmination of four years of hard work at one of the nation’s finest journalism schools, and it isn’t exactly what he envisioned after an internship with a prominent television network.

Bryson is America’s current economic woe.

He is one of the many faces of a downtrodden economy and a listless job market. He is a believer in false hope who has become the victim of political inaction.

Work hard for your dreams, his parents told him. He did just that with his aspirations of becoming a sports broadcaster.

He paid his dues, but for what?

Bryson could very well be your older brother, the kid down the street or a guy in your fraternity. He could be from New York, Chicago, Atlanta or a small town in Wisconsin.

He is every man from everywhere, left to fix the mistakes made by those we are supposed to be able to trust most.

I look at Bryson and hurt overcomes me. I want the best for my friend because I know he has earned so much more than this.

Sure, his grades could have been a little bit better and his resume more polished, but he is definitely qualified for a better job — one that doesn’t involve serving alcohol.

Now, a man with stronger convictions than anyone I know wants to give up on his dream.

I’m putting them on hold, he says, just for now, until something better comes along.

I see him maturing, adapting to his plight and no longer expecting the world to take care of him. Anything beats sitting around, he says. He just wants to feel better about himself; he’s tired of the constant rejection.

I just want to look him in the eye, shake him and scream at him until he comes to his senses.

Exhaust every option you can think of and then keep going, I’d tell him. Life is fleeting. Working a dead–end job that you don’t love will slowly kill you. Find within yourself an insatiable thirst for the job that I know you so desperately want.

Remember when you would play basketball on the driveway giving the play–by–play like you were in the broadcast booth at the Bradley Center.

To truly know what one wants to do with one’s life is a blessing that many spend years searching for but never find.

Brian Bryson is America. He is hope for renewal. A chance for a second shot.

Like our great country, his time will come.