6B - The Michig9 Daily - Weekend, etc. gazine - Thursday, Decem 2, 1999 0 0 a 0 0 Theochigan Daily - Weekenetc. Magazine - MAKE THE MOVE: GARAGE DOOR OPENER TO I LETTERS TO THE PORCELAIN GODDESS Swarming among what seems like chaos but is really just the end-of- semester effects, students can get bogged down in the approach of due dates, making the finish line seem as if it's an extra mile away. Students should 'go that extra mile' like so many teachers have encouraged and praised their best performers. So in the course of abating the downpour of last-minute papers (and snow), mending next year's scheduling glitches and sorting through what now appear to be archaic class notes to prepare for finals, a few trailblazing students might go that extra mile and study a person's tale never read before; take a breath and read between the lines. For female students, each day the Mason Hall women's restroom relieves physical needs and satisfies mental concerns. After all, the bath- room stalls serve hundreds of women daily. Eventually, just about everyone shows up. Though walking to the bathroom can seem an indiscreet trip - once within the walls of the stall, there is no choice but to read the dialogue on the stall written by so many women - soon the bathroom visitor no longer eschews her anonymity, for on the stalls rests engrossing dialogue and personal memoirs to be read. "I read romantic novels, is there anything wrong with that?" I can imagine a freshman asking this question; I picture a sheltered inno- cence in the author of this question. Maybe she wants to make sure that she isn't the only person finding reading plea- sure in sexual- ly explicit books. I am tempted to tell her to read Judy Blume's "Forever", and then she'll realize how many girls enjoy books Nicole Pearl State of the Arts containing sultry descriptions. Spending just a few minutes in a women's bathroom stall, or rather, a women's " sanctuary"' is therapeutic Impulsively challenging peoples' perceptions of their realities, vul- nerable thoughts are cast onto the stall. The words seems to breathe a delicate release of sincerity in hopes of receiving a prophesy from an unknown listener. Sometimes they do. "Keep breathing. If women use their intelligence, they'll prove their intuition." This piece of advice serves to inspire a fellow student of mine. And it beats the 1950's, TV- dinner-era style of advice offered by the notorious byline of Abigail Van Buren, syndicatedly known as "Dear Abby." In the bathroom, people aren't forced to gorge themselves on the over-consumption of fake altruism that is debasing today's society. After suffering through every infomercial claiming to ignite one's positive psychic channels and each new self-help product which is real- ly a money-making scheme, the most faithful words of advice are received when people take that extra effort to notice what's right ahead of them. The letters on the bathroom stalls enable a better option for personal expression than publicly submitting insecurities for all members of soci- ety to analyze. Writing bathroom messages has developed into a culture for women who have burnt their tongues on all the blase "coffee talk" in this world. These females write on the stalls to make the private public, but their exposed messages can still remain in a private domain. Releasing uncensored secrets for only other women to see, these writ- ers safely seek help, for they are shielded from admitting an identity, from threatening peer competition and from the demand for political correctness. The women's bathroom is more than a public service of conve- nience. It's like the unassuming -i geode, protecting its inner gem - pure and raw. "What if you know you're not a lesbian, but you have a crush on a woman?" The individual who claims a section of the stall wants other women's attention and sugges- tions. This place, constantly echoing the sound of flushing water, is a haven for cleansing the self. The bathroom stalls breed female per- spectives - unbiased and unre- strained. "How can you be so in love with someone and one day it just fades away?" She receives her response from a fellow nameless voice, "I say, if it was truly love, it would never fade away. If it does, rethink what you thought you had." This collection of abandoned female voices that wildly covers the naked space on the stalls is a mas- querade of diverse activities - questions, answers, advice, philoso- phies, arguments, conversations. Photo Illustration by JESSICA JOHNSON/DAILY LSA senior Sarah Eaton writes one of poet Ezra Pound's poems on a stall. discusses bathroom talk, but no one pretends it's invisible. Even for women who are disaffil- iated from the writing on the stalls, these intimate messages eventually become part of their bathroom ritu- als. Open-ended inquiries such as, "Anyone interested in God?" invite reaction from anyone. And next to this question is a poem written by T.S. Eliot. These stalls never cease to provoke, reassure, or at least, entertain. Public bathrooms usually become I think that, along with baseball, apple pie and stepmoms, the teenage garage band is an American institution. Pretty much everyone has a friend who played in a band at some point in their high school life . They're the one that always begins nostal- gic stories with. "Yeah, one time, when I I1 was jamming with my band..." Kind of like that flute girl in "American Chris Kula Pie," only real- Unsung life. Most of those Ann Arbor aspiring rockers trade in their guitar picks or drum- sticks for textbooks and beer bongs and follow the grander pursuits of a college education. Others, much to the chagrin of their parents, never leave the basement stage and end up playing with the same group of guys until they're 40, always waiting for "the audience who really gets what we're doing, you know, man?" And some poor schmucks end up writing a humor column in a news- paper. "Hi, my name is Chris Kula, and I played in a garage band." Yeah, I admit it: I spent the latter part of my high school days playing drums in a laughable five-piece ensemble called The Jive Prophets. Good name, horrible band. We would rock out in nothing but the finest parking lots, church family centers and living rooms of Kentwood, Mich - you know, the really prestigious gigs. Now I consider myself a pretty funky drummer these days and I still play around whenever I get the chance, but I. can very easily remember the dark days of plaster- ing my suburban hometown with flyers for a coffeehouse show that ended up drawing upwards of seven people (and that figure included about two of our loving mothers). So I thought that I'd share some of the insights I collected during my tenure as a garage superstar with1 anyone who's ever claimed to be inc "an up and coming local band." Listen up, legends-in-training, these are the musts:I N Find a name that evokes aE unique image. If your specialty is blinding-speedI thrash metal, a name like Rabid Death would suit you just fine. And if all the thrashers in your band happen to be Jewish, you could always go with Rabbi Death. Or if1 vacuous, candy-coated pop is your thing, you might want to think about something like, oh, I don't know, Goo Goo Dolls. Of the band names I've come across in the recent past, my person- al favorite is that of a group from Kalamazoo called Beowulf Scantron Test - every l1th grader in the nation can relate. A close sec- ond goes to the guys from Sexual Chocolate (Pop quiz: What Eddie Murphy movie does that name refer- ence?). In publicizing your band, always refer to your sound as "inno- vative," "exciting" and "completely original," and let people know that you are "quickly making a name for yourself in the world of (insert genre here)." Just don't be surprised when you're talking to the bearded rhythm guitarist from another local band and he tells you his band's style is "totally innovative yet really excit- ing with songs that are completely original" and that his band is "quickly making a name for itself in the world of jam bands." It's probably just a quirky coinci- dence, kind of like how every other band also seems to have their "first full-length album currently in the works" or are "currently in the plan- ning stages of their first national tour." U In the world of rock 'n' roll, you must look the part. For modern alterna-rock outfits, this means: Short, spiky hair; thick, black-framed glasses (preferably with yellow-tinted lenses); clunky black boots; and tight, shiny, but- ton-down shirts. There's a rumor andaily. corn going around that Warner Bros. is giving out record deals on the basis of clever facial hair, so get creative with the Mach 3. Hippie rockers, you must wear: Birkenstocks, year-round without fail, even in the cold rain and snow; stained khaki shorts in the summer, stained khaki pants in the winter; a ratty Grateful Dead tour t-shirt circa 1989; and a hemp necklace thick enough to strangle a fully grown llama. Ska kids? It's simple: Pants so large they block out the rays of the sun, causing it to be too dark to see your mock Star Wars t-shirt that reads "Use the Skank, Luke Skawalker!" Interestingly enough, the black- hooded sweatshirt is virtually the only article of clothing that can traverse basically any musical setting, from indie rock to trance. Except, that is, for Celtic musicians, who are forever clad in green suits and derby hats and spend their days skipping around with sham- rocks in their hands, singing and whistling gaily about how squeaky clean they are because of their favorite brand of soap. * Find yourself a female bass player. This suggestion is for the male- dominated funk-rock bands who are looking to add something special to their style. A girl who can hold her own in the guy's world of the funk and lay down some serious grooves is, in my mind, quite possibly the most appealing rock 'n' roll image I can dream of - there's just some- II I-es I I. = ar r ue f MULTI COLOR SPECIALISTS " ARTIST ON STAFF * RUSH ORDERS " NEAR U OF M CAMPUS 1217 PROSPECTANN ARBOR 665-1771 FF with this d. ,4 http://www.tshirtstudio.com .1 "Smash the KKK, strive for social justice." Testimonies of women's secrets spill into the room; it's a separate community that bears blunt truths and honest guidance. No one J sort of a last resort for those people who can't make it to their own facil- ities in time. There is that disgusting chance that you could end up going into a stall while your teacher is partici- pating in the same human act on the other side of the wall -- a very uncomfortable situation. But once sitting on the toilet, you might read a question that you would never ask but always wanted to know. "Is it normal if I haven't had an orgasm?" The public bathroom suddenly feels more like home. In these stalls, women can silently make deep con- fessions to strangers in hopes of gaining another female's insight. You could become a regular just like this woman who follows the sagas on her stall. She writes, "When did this stall stop being interesting?" (All quotations taken from the ground floor bathroom stalls in the Mason Hall women's bathroom.) -Nicole Pearl is a Weekend, etc. editor. Contact her at pearln@ unich. eda. www.michig, JOHN GUESS AGENCY INSURANCE FOR EDUCATIONAL EMPLOYEES Many UofM employees have saved on insurance costs 6935 Fosdick [Saline] 734.429.2707 734.429.1032 [fax]