The Michigan Daily Thursday, September 22, 1988 Page 5
By Veronica Woolridge
The Planet Earth. Somewhere in time.
A Saturday drama takes place. Septem-
ber 10, 1988. The drama proves to be a
socially alarming, controversial incident.
The autumn moon, proud of its grey-
groomed surface gleamed in the blue-blood
sky. The gleam dreamed on Ann Arbor and
its "knight" whose breastplate was sten-
ciled with joy - that vivacious decoration
of mirth that arrives with dusk and
knowledge that the day is done.
When the day is done, students go out
to play. Students dance, jog, eat. They
sleep, shop, study, dream or take one of
those UAC mini courses like bartending.
Yes, students drink. You may even
say... students party.
The party was at a house. The house
was located on a presidential street. The
party consisted of many students joyfully
welcoming themselves back to college.
Nothing new. So why should this
} particular party be highlighted as an
exception? All over the city that night,
students were rolling out the welcome
This particular shindig ignored noise and
order ordinances. The fiesta defied any
was facing a potentially tragic situation.
The major dramatic question of a con-
troversial situation. Why? Why did a stu-
dent "piss on" or "piss off" a pedestrian?
Apparently a University of Michigan Stu-
dent "pissed on" a pedestrian from his
porch steps. The Student was at a party
and the pedestrian, I assume, was an Ann
Arbor Resident walking down the street.
I'm not certain if the "piss" was literal or
connotative. However, the distasteful ac-
tion aggravated the Resident and caused
him to be uncontrollably incensed. The
Resident stood underneath the superficial
glow of a street lamp and screamed out
obscenities, curses and threats for nearly
and hour. He shattered glass as he inter-
jected exclamations of fury into his
"My fuckin' dad worked his ass off for
fucks like you! Your Dad pays for every-
thing. You don't know nothin'. Why are
you sitting on the porch. Come out here
and fight you fuckin' asshole, cockroach,
p*****! I'm out here in the light,"
screamed the Resident. As the man
screamed, sounds of laughter, muffled
voices and snickers arose from the porch
of the party house.
Each Fall, students invade Ann Arbor
and "piss" all over the townies. Students
leave their excretions to be cleaned-up.
during the summer by those who survive
the invasion of wealth, class, prestige and
attitude. There is a student attitude that
boasts: Ann Arbor would not be the
thriving metropolis that it is, if it were
not for the students. Because of this atti-
tude some students assume Ann Arbor is
their personal playground or toilet. Be-
cause of this attitude many students eat,
study and excrete in Ann Arbor without
digesting any of the insatiatable products
which add to Ann Arbor's stylish unique-
ness. One product is the Ann Arbor Resi-
dent. Residents are people who live and
work in Ann Arbor - year round. The
residents are the people who can't wait for.
students to skip town each summer.
1 + 1 = 2 - Townie plus student may
equal two. But townie and student are both
people. We all bleed.
The incensed man, with Saturday night
blues, pointing the finger at upper class,7
bourgeois students: "My fuckin' Dad
worked his ass off for fucks like you!"
My special acknowledgment to the man:.
I know how you feel, my Daddy did too.
Editor's Note: The Perspectives column
will appear every Thursday.
sense of social etiquette. But defiance was
okay, for now. I felt secure in my quiet
house. I felt protected in my second story
berth. When the noise became disturbingly
obnoxious, I closed my bay windows and
upped the volume on my stereo. I relaxed.
But, during a pause of a musical se-
quence, I noticed that the merrymaking and
din - students successfully inebriating
themselves - had suddenly ceased.
I re-opened my windows. I glanced up at
the sky. I momentarily watched a star,
stay. Then I sat down on my sofa. I lis-
tened. The noises from the street had as-
sumed an alien disposition. No longer
happy, careless and dreamlike, the street
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