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LIKE THEME PARTIES?
E-mail your submissions for theme party of the week to
thestatement@umich.edu.
PLAYBOY IS LOOKING FOR UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
COEDS TO APPEAR IN THE MAGAZINE'S MAY 2008
"GIRLS OF THE BIG 10" PICTORIAL.
AUDITIONS:
OCTOBER 8 & 9
How Michigan's
budget crisis could
ruin your weekend
little more than a week down 21 shots. Michigan driver's
ago, the state House of licenses, which are vertically
Representatives passed a oriented for people under 21,
motion to adjourn until the fol- expire when the owner reaches
lowing Monday. But because it the drinking age. When your
was 11:57 p.m. on a Sunday night, birthday finally rolls around, the
the total relaxation time afforded secretary of state offices will be
state legislators was about three out of commission, and renewing
minutes. Since then, bleary-eyed your license will be impossible.
lawmakers have continued to put Even though buying drinks with
in long hours, but they haven't yet an expired license is easier than
managed to balance the state's buying them with a fake ID, you
budget. still won't feel the rush of com-
If the gridlock holds until Oct. plete legality when you're tip-
1, the state government will com- ping back Blow Jobs.
pletely shut down. You'd think that with so many
What this means for the Uni- constraints on your weekend
versity is a little hazy. About 25 fun, there would at least be less
percent of University funding law enforcement, but both the
does come from Lansing- rough- city police and campus police
ly 1 million dollars a day. will function normally if state
Funding for public universi-
ties might be a casualty of the
enormous deficit. Or resolution A shutdown
of the crisis could mean more
money. could change
Maybe it will mean a midyear
tuition hike. Maybe it won't. your life
So the University's finances
are in limbo. That crisis may or
may not end up affecting you. But s r gways.
there are other, more immediate
reasons you should be aware of a
state shutdown abruptly ceases its support. The
The fallout might not be all state police will likely have fewer
bad. You might even get classier. troopers on duty than they usu-
Because liquor sales are regulat- ally do, but don't bank on it when
ed by the state, if the government you're speeding on the highway.
isn't up and running when Vil- Road patrols probably won't
lage Corner runs out of Bacardi decline dramatically.
Lim6n, they likely won't be able In addition to making the
to restock. As implausible as it weekend a little worse, a govern-
may seem, if all campus liquor ment shutdown would doubtless
stores sold out of liquor, the only add to the state's well-publicized
options left for Thursday nights financial turmoil. It would make
would be beer and wine, which it much harder for Michigan to
means that wine would be the salvage its crumbling reputa-
substance with the highest alto- tion, fund higher education or
hol content available in stores. keep educated people inside the
So while you may be used to tak- state. So if you're tired of wit-
ing a few shots of Jack Daniel's nessing Michigan's slow and
or Bacardi before leaving home painstaking descent into finan-
Friday nights, you could find cial ruin, you could always move
yourself pre-gaming with Char- out a few years earlier than you
donnay. were planning. For example,
And for those whose weekend you could go to Indiana, where
plans involved gambling, they'll the state schools aren't facing
have to do it online or in Cana- crippling budget cuts, or if you
da. The Michigan Gaming Con- can look past the malaise of the
trol Board, which regulates and Fighting Irish, you might even
licenses the Detroit's casinos, is enroll in a private university. On
planning on ceasing casino oper- the other hand, if you're not a
ations from Oct. 1 until govern- quitter, if you're one of the few
ment is up and running. loyal young college graduates
Finally, if your 21st birthday planning on staying in Michi-
is during the government shut- gan, it might not hurt to head
down, you can forget all your down to Indiana anyway, if only
hopes of being able to legally to stock up on Everclear.
BYRNE
From page 6B
heading to class like everyone else, I can't
help feeling that the Michigan experience is
a little different for me than it is for my fel-
low freshmen.
The other day on the Diag, I stopped my
bike and looked atmy fellow students, my new
peers and new friends. I saw bright smiling
faces, nervous frowns, and a group of friends
laughing as they walked toward Angell Hall.
But mainly, I saw kids. That's what everyone
looked like. Kids. A group of freshman guys
walked past me, and I wondered if some of
them have ever had to shave before.
I thought back to what it was like when
I was 18, fresh out of high school. I couldn't
recall.
By the time I was on that first convoy in
Iraq, I was 20 years old and had been in the
Marine Corps for 2 of my 4 years in active
duty. After the IED went off, we sat in dark-
ness for about an hour before finding out that
the truck's armor plating had stood up to the
blast and everyone inside Black 2 was OK
- just a little deaf. I thanked God. My friend
Josh had been in riding in the truck.
We started moving again and passed the
spot where the bomb had gone off. I looked
for the crater, but everything looked the same
color green through the night vision goggles.
And on we drove. And drove. And drove.
The cold desert wind cut through my
layer of military-issued camouflage and cold-
weather gear. And I had always thought Iraq
was hot. Apparently not in October. I ducked
farther behind my machine gun in the hopes
that I could absorb more of the heat com-
ing from inside the HMMWV. Whatever, I
thought. Things could be a lot worse.
F all on campus is a stark contrast to fall
in Iraq, and in different ways, it's just as
intimidating. Still, there are constant remind-
ers that my friends are overseas facing real
danger. A few days ago, I was walking past the
flag on my way to class. It was at half-mast,
I immediately thought it had been a bad day
for us in Iraq. I asked a passing group of girls
if they knew why the flag was lowered. One
shrugged and walked past as if it didn't mat-
ter. And why would it? It doesn't affect her at
the war
BLUMKE textboo
From page 7B The p
in thex
took our seats, a flight attendant you're n
spotted my friend sitting across the sittingi
aisle with a knife and aggressively at home
told him to hand it over. He quickly Kool-Aic
responded, "Look, lady, if you were involved
going where we're going you would last dep
want one too." pleasure
She didn't buy this answer and rocket a'
was only convinced the deviation Oner
from normal flight procedures was into my
OK when the pilot told her to drop cynicall3
the issue. distinct
That year, my Christmas, New ately fol
Year's Eve and 21st birthday were I leap
spent working on a flight line, sleep- of my ro
ing in a tent and adhering to Gen- friend w
eral Order Number 1: No alcohol. No We look
gambling. No pornography. No fun. thanase
Over the next four years, I we scrap
deployed with my friends. two M-16s ar
more times in support of Operation As a
Enduring Freedom and helped fight one ofn
all. I bit my tongue and kept on walking.
Freedom is funny in that sense. We have
the freedom to care and the freedom not to.
Walking through campus, you'd never sus-
pect the country was at war. Everyone seems
lost in his or her cell phone conversations or is
jamming out to their iPod, wondering wheth-
er to party tonight or do homework.
A s that night in Iraq wore on, someone
saw another IED. We stopped and wait-
ed for the bomb experts to dismantle it or
blow it up. Whichever came first. John, the
Iraqi translator in my truck, started asking
me questions about my home and my life. He
was astonished that I actually volunteered for
the Marine Corps and that I wasn't forced to
come to Iraq.
The driver, Bill, from the Bronx, laughed.
In the U.S., he said, people were generally free
to do what they wanted as long as it doesn't
infringe on anyone else's freedom. John said
he didn't quite get it. He told us about how his
father and older brother were killed because
they voiced disagreement with one of Sad-
dam's policies. The story left the truck in awk-
ward silence. We were saved by the order to
keep moving and Bill put the truck in gear.
Most of the conversations I have with peo-
ple at the University about Iraq go just about
as well as that conversation with John. Most
guys I've talked to seem more interested in
asking if I've ever killed anyone and most of
the girls can't seem to understand why any-
one would join the military.
So I sat alone in class that first day. I didn't
know anybody, and it also looked like I was
the oldest person in the room. Halfway
through the lecture, I noticed that most of
the students weren't paying attention. One
guy was passed out on his desk as the profes-
sor spoke. I thought back to the classes in the
Marine Corps where we learned about spot-
ting IED's and suspicious people around our
area of operation. I always paid attention.
Everyone did. It wasn't only my survival that
depended on it. It was also the survival of my
fellow Marines, my brothers in arms, and
most important, my friends. So far, I'm get-
ting the sense that Chemistry 130 isn't like
that.
A e had been driving for 10 hours when
the sun finally came up. I could barely
keep my eyes open as I stared at the side of
the road looking for anything that could be an
IED. I prayed that if we passed one I would
spot it before it took out any of the guys in the
back of the convoy. My best friend Rob was on
the machine gun turret of the truck behind
me. He was probably as cold as I was, prob-
ably colder because he's from East LA where
the temperature never drops below SO. I
was glad Rob had my back. We had been like
brothers ever since we met at our military
occupation school. We shared the misery, the
dirt, exhaustion in the field, laughs at the bar
and now the desert cold. He got me through
the worst of times, and I saved him when his
ass was on the line. Like brothers.
A few weeks ago, I got some solicitations
for a different kind of brotherhood. I made
my way through the maze of tables in the
Diag for Festifall, and like all new students
trying to meet people, I signed the e-mail
lists for a few groups I'll probably never join.
Frats?
"No," I tell them all, "I'm already in a frat."
"Which one?" They ask. I say "USMC" and
keep walking.
Eventually I gave up looking for a suitable
group. Whatever I thought I might find at
Festifall seemed to have been nonexistent.
But as I squeezed my way through the crowd,
headed back to class, I stumbled across a
modest setup with a sign that read, "Student
Veterans Association at the University of
Michigan." With a sense of relief, I looked at
the men behind the table and said, "This is
where I need to be."
A fter 11 hours on the road in Iraq, I could
feel the dust caked on my face and inside
my nostrils. My shoulders ached under the
weight of my Kevlar body armor and the
ammo strapped to it. Sleep, I thought. That's
all I need. Sleep. The truck slowed down and I
felt a sense of dread at the prospect of another
hour-long stop to search out another threat.
I peeked over the armor plating that sur-
rounded me and saw the scout vehicle was
parked on the side of the road ahead of us.
I waved to my friend in the gun turret as
we passed them. And then my heart leapt
when I felt the truck begin to turn. I could
see the familiar structure of a sentry post
ahead. The gate opened and a young Marine
Private, no more than 19 years old, waved us
through. I turned around and I was thrilled
to see the entire line of trucks follow us
through the gate. Even though I knew the
convoy would be the first obstacle of many I
would face in Iraq, it was over. And I made
it. I was home.
out for me as we did for each other
a plane while serving.
ne of the The next year and a half after
a faulty leaving active duty, I had feelings of
ould see worthlessness.Iwasgettingstraight
he pour- A's at the community college I was
eet were attending, but I felt as though I was
n, and I doing nothing with my life. I wasn't
contributing to what was going on in
ng. Even the world. Instead, I went to classes
own my and listened to lectures while my
bout the friends in the unit I had left behind
d a few were overseas.
me that Although I'm not deployed, I've
service found the undergraduate challenge
o school. is proving to be formidable in its
his is the own right.
When I got to the University of
f the mil- Michigan, I sat in class feeling out
ne of the of place, not only because I was five
because years older than most of the stu-
enough dents in the class, but because my
ldn't be experiences tended to set me apart.
ad those When I tell people I was in the ser-
I knew vice, their first expression is usually
looking See-BLUMKE, Page 12B
I'm now reading about in
Mks.
roblem with being involved
making of history is that
ot as safe as you would be
in Angell Hall or staying
'with the TV on, drinking
id. Although I was never
d in direct combat, on my
loyment in 2005 I had the
of experiencing my first
ttacks.
night shortly after settling
cot in the plywood hut I
y called home, I heard two
whistling noises immedi-
lowed by loud explosions .
t out of bed and came out
om at the same time as my
vho I was sharing a hut with.
ed at each other for no more
cond.Then,withoutaword,
mbled to find our Kevlar and
nd ran out the door.
non-commissioned officer,
my primary responsibilities
was the welfare of the younger Air-
men placed in my charge. Moving
fast, I checked the other huts in the
compound to make sure everyone
was out, safe and in the shelter of
the bunker.
When I opened the second door
of the second hut, I saw a surprising
sight. There, staring at me, were five
Airmen, , motionless, like deer in
headlights. I looked at them. Wide-
eyed, they looked back at me.
After a few seconds like that, I
shouted, "Move!"
Their response was nothing less
than hilarious. Each one took off in
a different direction, scrambling to
find gear and get out of the hut.
In the end, the rockets damaged
some buildings and a few vehicles,
but no one was hurt. There were
many more rocket attacks while I
was there. On my last night in the
compound, there were eight. But of
my experiences while deployed, the
one I remember most vividly doesn't
involve explosions.
I was standing under
with my arms deep inside o
aircraft's panels, changing
part. It was so cold that I c
my breath, even through tl
ing rain. My hands and fi
numb, my face was frozet
should have been miserable
But I couldn't stop smili
as the freezing rain ran d
sleeves I kept thinking at
paperwork I had receive(
weeks earlier informingj
I was approved to end my
commitment early to go t
I kept thinking to myself, T
last timeI will ever do this.
The decision to get out of
itary and go to school was o
hardest I've ever made. Not
of the fears of not having
money or because I wou
smart enough, though I h
thoughts. It was because
there wouldn't be people