0 0 0 9 Wensa, oe br14 0 7 - h ihga al I 8 Te MchganDaly -Wdedy ovme 4 007 landed herself a more than $1,500 fine. "She called the police on herself," he said. It seems like the only thing to do after having a counterfeit confis- cated is to shrug, bear it and start looking into changing your false citizenship to another state. How about Wyoming? JESSICA VOSGERCHIAN Student housing, Monastic living Catherine Street's most virtuous residents On Catherine Street in the heart of the student ghetto, there are two houses side by side that seem strangely well kept. The grass is still green, there are some flowers still blooming in an actual garden and it looks like someone even rakes once in a while. The inside is just as immacu- late. Clean dishes sit in a rack next to a sink, despite the absence of a dishwasher. There's nothing out of place and there's notrace of dust on any of the furniture. And sometimes, in the mornings and in the evenings, the neighbors can hear prayers and singing com- ing from the basement. The houses are home to the main office for Ann Arbor's chapter of University Christian Outreach, an ecumenical organization that hosts prayer meetings and bible studies, does campus mission work and supports a few student houses around campus where residents live together to try to support each other in living according to Chris- tian ideals. This isn't a student house, though. "It's a lot cleaner, for one," laughed John Hughes, 23, who graduated from the University in April. The buildings are home to Hughes and 10 other men most of whom are looking into embrac- ing a devout lifestyle with the reli- gious brotherhood Servants of the Word, the organization that owns the houses and that supports most UCO events. They get up together for a breakfast at 7 a.m., followed by prayer, eat dinner together and wash the dishes together. Some even share bedrooms. If complete the eight-year training process, they'll officially be part of the broth- erhood - committed to communal living and celibacy for life. Four of the men already have already com- pleted the training. There are just over 40 brothers in the world. Brian Laba, 28, who graduated from the University in 2000, is in his sixth year of training. He said that, for a while, most of his friends didn't quite understand his deci- sion, or they said they "admired his sacrifice," but Laba pointed out that though he was giving up comforts that make a lot of people happy, he wasn't giving up happiness. That idea would probably be hard to grasp for his neighbors - the two houses are hemmed in by student housing, and there often loud house parties on the block. "It doesn't make sense to a lot of people. But if you look at some of the guys who've been living this way for 25 years, you can see it's not a bad way to live. It's inspiring to see the joy that they have," Hughes said. In the basement, once you walk past shelves filled with food bought on the modest budget provided by Servants of the Word, and by the washing machine and through a makeshift gym full of aging exer- cise equipment, there's a carpeted room that's sparsely decorated with a wooden cross in the front and a guitar and some boxes in the corner. The men come here - or to the similar room in the other house with a piano in it-- to pray and sing together at least twice a day, every day of the week but Sunday, when they go to their own respective churches of different denomina- tions. "It's kind of like monastic life in downtown Ann Arbor," said Hughes, who hasn't decided wheth- er he'd like to pursue the brother- hood. By design, there's no dishwasher in the kitchen. At night, after din- ner, when the residents do the dish- es together, it's less a chore than an exercise in community living - and maybe music. Owing to the diversity of the res- idents - there's one from France, Lebanon, Mexico the Philippines, where Servants of the Word also has houses set up - the men sing a variety of music while they do the dishes. But '70s folk legend John Denver, who sang "Take Me Home, Coun- try Roads" has proved an unlikely standby. "If they don't know John Den- ver - " Laba said, "They learn it," Hughes said. "It's part of the train- ing. -ANNE VANDERMEY OSU at Ashley's The biannual hostile takeover of a State St. bar Whenever anyone from the Uni- versity plans to travel to Columbus for the Michigan-Ohio State game, there are always those grave, anec- dotal scenarios about Ohio State enthusiasts attacking Michigan fans on sight. Take the e-mail last November from Dean of Students Sue Eklund and Alumni Association President Steve Grafton, which sug- gested that fans headed south drive a car with "non-Michigan plates, if possible" and, once there, to "keep your Michigan gear to a minimum, or wait until you are inside the sta- dium to display it." Cut to that weekend at home in Ann Arbor two years ago. Brian Carlson, a bartender at Ashley's Restaurant & Pub on State Street, said that on the Friday before every home game against Ohio State, the proportion of out-of-town fans at the bar rises as high as 80 to 90 per- cent. But that night was a new low - the Ohio State cheerleaders were there, and they were doing what they do best. "They were leading the entire bar in a cheer," Carlson said. With the huge number of fans from Colum- bus there, he said, there are never enough Michigan fans to drown them out. As an additional sign of their rev- erence for Michigan football tradi- tion, Carlson said he recalls patrons from OSU throwing ketchup. One table splattered it inside menus. No word on if the fans dared to wear scarlet and grey. "Maybe it's because Ashley's is a really unique bar," he said of the OSU fans' affinity for the signature pub. "I don't know." Whatever the case, he said, Michigan fans haven't done much to combat it. "It would be nice to see Michi- gan fans come in Friday," he said. "Or, win or lose, to come in after the game Saturday." Then again, that might not be the best idea. Maybe it's time Eklund sends the campus another nervous letter about how to deal when Buck- eyes come to Ann Arbor. -JEFFREY BLOOMER n its infancy, Michigan club lacrosse was just that - a club. John Paul played for the team in the late '80s and early '90s and remembers the social aspect of the game. Who won or lost was irrelevant. More than likely, the big winner was the guy who could hold his booze the best. "We used to hop out of the van, carry a keg out of the back and just play," Paul said. Times have changed inthe past15 years, though. Paul traded in his tap for a clipboard, becoming coach of the Michigan Club Varsity Lacrosse team, and in the process, developed some lofty ambitions - actual var- sity status. His team now acts as a virtual varsity squad, practicingyear round with a professional coaching staff and providing services that range from academic support to yoga and detailed speed training. In early October, the men's lacrosse team hosted defending Division-I National Champion Johns Hopkins in a scrimmage. Their coach, Dave Pietramala, cited the Wolverines as one of the nation's top club teams. The Johns Hopkins varsity team, with some of the best scholarship lacrosse players in the country, was pitted against a team whose play- ers had to pay $3,500 dollars a year just to participate. To the surprise of some, the Wolverines mostly held their own, losing 9-1, with the Johns Hopkins Blue Jays playing their starters for most of the game. But for Paul, the final score was meaningless. It was the scores of media covering the event that were important. It was the 2,100 who packed Elbel Field who mattered. It was the exposure of Michigan club varsity lacrosse as something more than a club. "Whether it's three years from now or 15 years from now, division one lacrosse at Michigan is inevi- table," Paul said. "The waythe sport continues to grow, and all of the selling points that we have for it, it's going to happen." But the path to becoming a var- sity team is more complicated than it might seem. For it to happen, Paul will have to ceaselessly lobby the University and undergo a long and complex formal review process no team has even attempted - though more than one has the talent tobe a varsity sport - since 2000. The University has 25 varsity teams now, what will it take for it to get to 26? A she walks down State Street to his office at Weidenbach Hall, the last thing on the mind of Michi- gan Athletic Director Bill Martin is the addition of a new varsity sport. He's got enough on his plate with the construction of luxury boxes at Michigan Stadium about to begin, groundbreaking for a new soccer complex on the horizon and the looming questions surrounding Crisler Arena renovations. But when Martin became athletic director in 2000, updating facilities was low on his list of concerns. The department was in debt, and then- President Lee Bollinger had given Martin the responsibility of getting athletics back in the black. Even so, before Martin was hired, Bollinger and the regents had signed off on a plan to add two new varsity sports, men's soccer and women's water polo. "I looked at the budget, which was about 5 million dollars in the red, and said, 'The first thing I See NEXT PAGE DON'T BE A SLAVE TO THE AL-TRADE-A BANKERS OFF THE WALL A sampling of campus graffiti Flush the toilet you nasty female, no one wants to see your by-product! Bi-product. Learn to spell it's U of M ... Do you expect to find love scrawled on the bathroom wall? YESTERDAY, I TOOK A CHANCE. I TRIED TO FART, BE AWARE: USE OF BATHROOM AND I SHIT MY PANTS. MAY RESULT IN CONTRACTING THE CLAP - THE MANAGEMENT Girls: Please return seat to upright position. Thanks. - The unisex bathroom in Rendez Vous Cafe Perhaps you should learn to spell before you critique others If you come here for the foot- ball you better be on the team. Otherwise, you're an idiot. WOw PEOPLE, PLEASE BE NICE! THIS LOOKS LIKE MY HIGH SCHOOL BATHROOM! - The women's bathroom near the fishbowl PHOTOSBY ZACHARY MEISNER