Sodexo makes improvements, BUT

I think that in all fairness the people working at Sodexo deserve at least a clap or two for improving the quality of food in the Lair. Between Quiznos and the new salads, I don’t have to go to my next class with my stomach screaming, “Why did you eat the Loco Nachos? You’re crazy!” Ha. Ha.

Anyway, Sodexo doesn’t often get credit for doing things right, and I figure: Give credit where credit is due.

1) Now, about the charging for cups of water …

There should be reusable, washable plastic cups for us to drink water from. I’ll never get over having to pay 25 cents for a blue Pepsi Co. cup.

2) And about those occasionally long lines …

Nobody wants to wait in line. Figure it out.

-Alex Tandy

Viable vigilante justice

“You may be asking yourself: Do I feel lucky?” and with a slight grin he clicks back the hammer of his magnum, “Well, do you punk!?” If you don’t know this line from this beloved American classic “Dirty Harry,” then your obviously not a fan of tough guy movies. In that case, you’re probably more familiar with lame “chick flick” movies like “Pretty Woman,” but I digress.

Anyway, if you’re an average red-blooded male like me, when you watch movies like “Die Hard,” “Braveheart,” or “The Boondock Saints” you feel a pressing need to either grab a giant pistol (or depending on the movie, a huge sword and kilt) and go out a blow away some bad guys. These movies get the testosterone flowing, and they make the idea of pursuing justice with a manly vengeance a truly appealing idea.

But in reality, you simply can’t go out and be a vigilante, simply because society frowns on the idea. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying we should all have the right to put somebody down if they harm us, because that unfortunately allows ordinary individuals to take the law unnecessarily into their own hands. For example, if I was in a bank and it was being robbed, and I grabbed a security guards gun and started shooting, one of two things could happen. First of all, just like a movie, I could miraculously shoot all the bad guys, and then get to be hero, and then promptly hook-up with the beautiful girl who was standing behind me in line.

But the other thing that could happen is that I could accidentally hurt the wrong people and make the situation much worse. I am not a cop, so I have no reason to step in and make matters worse. In other words, we all can’t go around being the tough guy and beating up anyone who crosses the line because in the end you will end up crossing the line yourself. Yet what I will say is this, if an injustice is occurring, the worst thing you could do is nothing.

As Edmund Burke said, "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." So don’t go out and be the jerk beating up everybody left and right, but at least do the right thing, and stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves.

Photo from MCT Campus

There will be blood, really

I've always had an aversion to needles, especially the kind that doctors jab into your arm in order to suck out a pint of blood. That's why I couldn't believe myself when I agreed to donate blood last week. A few weeks ago, my roommate was taking sign-ups for his service org, and asked if I'd do it. I laughed. "Why not?" he asked. I didn't really have a reason, which ended up being my fatal mistake. "Would you let the doctors draw blood from you if it would save your life?" he asked, innocently. Of course I would. "Then why not let them do it to save other people's lives?"

Damn.

So I signed up and forgot about it – until last night. My roommate told me to make sure to drink lots of fluids and eat a good meal in the morning. I was touched at his care and concern, until I realized why he was telling me that. Then I was panicked. I went to bed apprehensive and woke up weak-kneed and nauseous. (And that was before I ate a Sodexo breakfast.) My appointment time arrived, and I texted "I love you bye" to my mom and went to St. Rob's Auditorium, where the bloodsucking was set to happen.

I filled out forms that detailed my medical history, and was more than slightly-tempted to answer "Yes" to questions that asked me about paying for sex in an attempt to escape. I decided against it, because I realized that if I died giving blood, my parents would likely see that form and would be left wondering forever. After that, I was greeted by a very kind nurse who spoke very bad English, and she detailed conditions under which I should not donate. I prayed I heard her correctly.

She pricked my finger and took blood from there without really telling me why. "First time?" she asked. I replied yes. She just laughed, which did little to console me. When she was done, I got up as if to leave – that wasn't so bad. "Oh, no," she laughed. "We use a much larger needle to take blood from your arm after this." Of course, her English was flawless when she said stuff like that. She led to me a chair that reminded me of the chair I'd sit in if I'm ever sentenced to lethal injection, and another happy nurse came and started rubbing my arm down. She told me not to look, so of course I looked when she jabbed an enormous needle into my left arm. I felt a bit dizzy, but then regained my composure and tried to look cool as a pint of blood was taken from me.

It was over in about 10 minutes, and I was told to hang out for about 15 minutes, probably in case I started dying. I went to the cookie table and took more than I was supposed to and had a seat. It really wasn't that bad. The most painful part was when the nurse removed the tape that held the IV in place from my hairy arm. As I sat, some cheery person told me that I saved three lives with my pint of blood. "Well, not yet," I said. Nobody likes a literalist.

That aside, saving three lives is certainly worth the anxiety I experienced beforehand. I used to hate it when people pressured me to give blood, so I won't do that. Instead, I'll just encourage you, tell you the cookies are really good and ask you the same question my roommate asked me: Would you do it to save your own life?

---José Martinez

Photo courtesy of JHeuser| wikicommons

Facebook falters and regains balance

With this innocent post a few weeks ago, the ubiquitous social-networking Web site Facebook announced an "update" to its terms of use. No big deal, right? Not too many users were even aware that it even occurred.

Soon thereafter, however, some media outlets began to dig a little deeper, and what they found was pretty shocking to a number of people. Under the new rules, you forfeit any and all rights of control over content you post on the site, even after you've deleted an account. The Consumerist was the first to break this revelation.

Word spread quickly, and before they knew it, Facebook was flooded with angry responses from people all over the world. It didn't take long for Mark Zuckerberg and his crew to cave in to the pressure. Now, they've revoked the changes, and have promised to include more user input in future decisions.

Where does that leave us, the average college student who logs in without fail every day? If we don't pay close attention to what Facebook, or any other site we belong to, is doing, then we run the risk of losing individual content control. The challenges of cyberspace are numerous, but this is definitely a battle we can't afford to lose.

Not all P-Safe tickets are created equally

It's high noon and right about now you're out of luck for parking. Cruise through U-Hall: full; Speed through Drollinger: not an open spot in sight; Cringe upon arriving at Hannon lot only to find that there is a parking spot at the opposite end of campus adjacent to the Children's Center. Aside from that debacle, finding parking isn't the only issue but really avoiding that white receipt-like paper folded in your windshield wiper from our friendly P-Safe officer.

There are so many opportunities to be one of the lucky ones to have this paper bestowed upon your car; such as not parking in your assigned spot, parking outside the lines. Shouldn't this lame Dodge Neon get a ticket?

Absolutely it should! Unfortunately, it did not because this parking fail occurred at night so of course leave it to P-Safe to not be around Drollinger at the time to make the ticketing magic happen. Of course, earlier in the day, my car was ticketed. Why? Because I parked in Drollinger and my spot in is Hannon Lot. Call me crazy, but shouldn't our fabulous Dodge Neon here be getting the ticket too? I mean look at how it's parked?!?! It's clearly screwing someone out of an already subcompact spot. Trust me, when Homer Simpson made a parking fail, it was brilliant, this is just annoying. It doesn't matter if this was at night, P-Safe, ticketing should be a 24/7 thing not just something for P-Safe to pass the time from 7:00 am to 4pm on weekdays.

---Faiza Mokhtar

Don't cancel my class. Thanks.

Why are teachers allowed to cancel classes? While most students rejoice upon reading a sign stating, "Class has been cancelled today," posted to the door of the classroom, I think there is a much bigger issue at play. Without falling into the "I pay 40k a year and therefore deserve X" category, I find it to be a major sign of disrespect to the students and to the University when teachers cancel classes. Family emergencies aside, professors, I believe, should not be allowed to simply decide that class should not meet on a particular day.

In almost any other profession, not showing up for a meeting or for an entire day without giving their co-workers or clients proper notice, and a reschedule would result in automatic discipline (lost pay or demotion). Imagine if a pharmacist decided not to show up to work one day and simply left a note on the counter announcing the day off; the outcry from customers would be overwhelming. Why does this rule not apply to professors?

If a professor asks me to take his/her class seriously, then I expect the same from them. Cancelling class with a simple note on the door without offering to reschedule it or temporarily offering more office hours for the lost time is a big slap in my face. We, as students, should demand more from our professors. Next time a teacher cancels class (again, family/health emergencies aside), I urge you to demand an answer.

---Sean Tierney

3 Ways to Improve the Lion's Den

Bring back the old espresso machine: I'm a bit of a coffee snob, but it really doesn't take more than a Jamba-juice-enhanced-pallatte to realize that the new "fully-automatic" espresso machines in the Lion's Den make crappy espresso. It's not normal to find a sludge of water and coffee grinds at the bottom of a double shot, as these machines regularly output.

Respect my mug: I'm pretty happy with the Lion's Den's new green disposables, but still, for an establishment that puts out so much container waste per day, there are certainly no-waste solutions. How about this? If I bring in my own ceramic mug and you fill it with coffee, give me a coffee for less. It's not that novel of an idea -- we've seen it at all sorts of corner coffee spots. Instead, the closest the LD gets to a mug program is one where you buy their proprietary, over-priced thermos.

Real apple cider: Sometimes I really need a non-caffeinated drink and the Den is slim on those. Especially during the Winter and Fall -- we have to get some hot apple cider in there. It's a perfect specialty drink for a place like the Den. But none of that heated apple juice crap that they serve down in Uhall. I want a real tangy, un-filtered, cloudy beverage.

Love, Chris Lesinski

What's Your Phobia?

We are all scared of something, whatever it may be. For me, I had to confront my worst fear a few weeks ago. I was getting ready to head to the beach and was going through my usual routine of getting all of my gear together. I went to my apartment balcony, grabbed my towel, which was drying from the other day, and then walked back inside, and threw it on my chair. That’s when I turned around and saw a good three-inch spider jump down from the towel. I swear on my life, that that nasty little devil looked up at me for a split second, and then took off running towards my refrigerator.

To be honest, I did absolutely nothing, mainly because I hate spiders with an utter passion. I am almost positive that he knew I wasn’t going to anything, and he must have been laughing in his little spider brain. Anyway, I can’t stand these nasty critters whatsoever, and I know I have always been that way since I was a kid. It’s the way they look, and all those extra legs, that just sends shivers down my spine. I hate to say it, but I can’t walk down the reptile aisle at PetCo, because I know that one of those little tanks has one of those god-awful tarantulas just sitting there, all hairy and disgusting.

But on that note, I have no problem with any other creepy crawlers. I am cool with snakes, other bags, rats, and any other nasty little bugger you can think off. So why am I afraid of spiders? I have no clue. I thought about it though, and I guess that a lot of people have their own particular phobias. My girlfriend is afraid of heights, and my dad hates cockroaches. They don’t really know why, they just know that they do. So I guess I really don’t have to be too embarrassed about my little fear. Some day I’ll get over this though. I’m not sure how, and hopefully I wont have to go the ridiculous extreme of buying a pet tarantula to do so, but I know that one day I will.

---Stefan Slater

Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Administrative pay cuts should be rule, not exception

With all of the hullabaloo over the stimulus package on Capitol Hill this week, it was another somber reminder of where the American economy is headed, with or without governmental intervention.

Back here on the bluff, students and families are preparing for financial aid season; it’s a safe bet that some of them will be unhappy with what eventually transpires.

Every university across the country is bracing for some harsh realities. More transfers, fewer applicants and reduced matriculation rates mean less income. Perpetually ballooning budgets and jumps in tuition won’t do anything to alleviate the pain.

Given the current climate, some university officials have decided to tackle the situation head on. In December, Stanford’s highest-ranking administrators announced they would be taking a 10 percent pay cut in 2009 (including President John Hennessy who makes around $700,000). Stanford Provost John Etchemendy said in a letter to the school they would be “irresponsible not to prepare for this eventuality.”

Any way to address budget concerns is a positive step.

LMU has announced a hiring freeze for all non-academic staff positions, but I wonder if the shot-callers around here would be willing to consider pay cuts. It’s hard not to notice the nice cars they drive, so we can assume they’re doing OK for themselves.

When next year’s tuition is announced within the next few weeks (something I luckily won’t be paying), get ready to ask some serious questions of those who handle the money at LMU, and reap the benefits.

--- O.S. Borboa

I wonder why you suck at life

Wondering is what I do. I’m sure the phrase “I’m beginning to wonder” can be found in more than a few of my articles.

Today, I’m wondering why so many students at LMU don’t seem to care. How can some of them pay $40,000 and be OK with never going to class? How can some students turn in papers written on Martin Luther King Jr. when two weeks of lecturing was spent on Martin Luther, the man credited for spearheading the Protestant Reformation. Does the 95 Theses ring any bells? No, nothing? Not even a church bell? Well, this girl in question basically wrote a paper that was 450 years off from the subject material; she wrote about the Civil Rights Movement, not the Protestant Reformation. Failure confirmed.

What’s the point of going to college, if you aren’t even going to pay attention? I’m not asking for everyone to be a super-duper, outstanding, A+ student, but I am asking for at least B- students. Getting a B- shows that you’ve at least applied yourself to a level above apathy. And apathy is just a plain waste. Too many young, and even older Americans would love to switch places with our privileged bums. They’d love to receive a higher education, but they didn’t have an opportunity to do so.

Essentially, though, your life is certainly not my life. I won’t tell you how to live it. You can waste as many opportunities as you want. But then I’ll probably tell you: “You suck at life.”

Dead and Gone: Men's Basketball (and their fans)

Unlike T.I.'s single which chronicles his personal metamorphosis during his house arrest, the men's basketball faces the fact that their chances of not being the worst team in the nation and having worst season in school history are pretty much dead and gone. I realized this months ago with the poor shooting percentages, the lack of defense, the ever revolving injury list, and a coach who resigned only go to the NBA shortly after; I stopped caring and believing. With the embarrassing loss against Pepperdine Saturday, it's pretty much a lock now that the men's basketball team is on its way to the record books, but for all the wrong reasons.

Photo: Courtney Toomey/Loyolan

There's another thing that's dead and gone as well are the fans (or lack thereof). The Pepperdine game is one of the biggest games of the year for LMU and that shows in attendance. With the exception last season, since 2002-03 season, on average about 3,000+ of us pack Gersten where the largest attendance was in the 2006-07 season with 4,005. Now I wouldn't exactly say we packed Gersten this past Saturday because only 2,385 of us bothered to show up (I was not one of them). Correlate this with our atrocious record, this will makes sense because honestly who wants to see a losing team? To add, a losing team that has a greater chance becoming a laughing stock than a decent finish. With six games left in the season, this begs the question: Have we left our team for dead and gone? The answer is a resounding yes and hope that next season doesn't suck as much.

In the meantime, you're better off watching women's basketball, where they have a winning record.

---Faiza Mokhtar

Another Saturday Night

If you’re currently a freshman, or a prospective incoming student, I feel bad for you, I really do. With the new policy of ticketing loud parties immediately, instead of first giving a warning, the greater Loyola Marymount party scene is going to die, and possibly a quick death at that. That means, because of the year-round equivalent of Ebenezer Scrooge and his inability to appreciate the fact that others have a better thing to do with their Friday nights than throw obstacles into the lives of the others, an important part of the college experience is going to be excised out of the average student’s life. Sure, not all college students party. In fact, even many of the ones that do are not part of the scene that causes a bit of a ruckus. Or, according to the LAPD as of a couple weeks ago, a hellish maelstrom of thumping music, drunken screaming and white crowd noise worthy of a $1200 ticket. If I blow through a stop sign or a red light, I pay a lesser ticket than what was given to homeowners last night that happened to entertain a large crowd.

The thing about rowdy, large parties is that, for most undergrads, it’s their only opportunity for the rest of their lives to be in that kind of atmosphere, to blow off steam and stress with dozens of their peers, to experience a kind of energy that will never be found again in their lives after graduation. It’s an experience that needs to be had to find a proper balance between the pressures of schoolwork and the looming real world, to enjoy the last minor shreds of irresponsibility, to know it so that it can be grown out of.

For those miserable homeowners that feel the need to call in the cops on a gathering of students, and I can say that the ticketed party I was at last night was neither particularly boisterous nor crowded, they are forgetting the joys of a time period when you could feel that you were amongst 50 of your friends, when you could forget your finals week by embracing your peers, when it’s not about the life outside the party but the one where you can lift up a beer and savor the life inside. You see, freshmen, incoming students, you’re not going to have that within safe walking distance of your college, free from threat, free to enjoy yourselves. You may, if you look for it, find it a dangerous car ride away, in unknown territory, among many that you don’t know, and there’ll be a house in Westchester where someone will go to sleep without a sound outside then or even maybe in the morning, when due to circumstances you don’t make it home.

- Leonid Leonov

Getting paid to do what you love?

I was taking out my surfboard from my car in the parking lot at El Porto when the guy parked next to me got out of his car, walked up to the parking meter, and let out a series of swear words that would make an army sergeant blush.

Let me explain, see recently the amount of time a quarter could get you there went down from fifteen minutes to ten. So for an hour in the water, you have to drop a $1.20. If you’re in the water pretty regularly, like I am, it tends to rack up rather quickly.

But that aside, the guy did let out at least one interesting nugget of insightfulness, and that was, “They don’t pay us to do this!”

Well, he is right, he and I don’t get paid to surf, but then again, I am not a pro. But it got me thinking, what if I was paid to do what I love? I love to surf; so getting paid to do it would be great, right?

But then I thought about it, and I figured that there would be a lot of pressure on me to make sure my surfing was fantastic. If I was getting paid to do it, I couldn’t really afford to have an off day out in the water. I would have to be top of my game every time I went out. But over time I really think I would stop seeing surfing as fun and more as work.

I am only saying this because we all figure that getting paid to do what we love would be great, and that it should be a major goal for a person to achieve. But if you mix your passion with the stress and pressure of bringing home a check, you might forget why you love that particular activity so much. So if you ever get paid to do what you love, what ever it may be (save for killing people), remind yourself from time to time why you love that passion.

---Stefan Slater

Restoration of hope in student-kind

I don't often lose things. I carry three things on me: cell phone, wallet and keys. I check my pockets to an extent that you might believe I have OCD. After all, it can't be that hard to keep track of three things, and I'm 22, not 12.

You can imagine my surprise when I was standing in line at Chipotle and a guy asked me what my name was. I was beginning to think I was going to be famous. I looked over my shoulder to see if he was talking to the guy behind me, and I then swiveled back, "Who me?"

"Yeah, what's your name?"

I replied with surprise, "Alex." With that, he handed me my wallet. My world fell apart as if he had passed a baton of doom – not the leather wallet I had grown to love. How could I lose my wallet? I then became overwhelmed with graciousness and offered to buy him his meal. He refused.

About two weeks later, I pick up a voicemail on my phone from Public Safety. They let me know that my wallet was found and returned to their office. Once again, my mind was blown. My thought proceeded in the same way as before: How could I lose my wallet? And how could it possibly have been returned to me?

I've been dubbed a pessimist by many, and their title is probably well warranted. I expect the worst in order to avoid disappointment. I certainly don't expect to get things back that I've lost, especially things that have value.

Maybe I need to have a little more faith in my fellow students. (Our mission statement says something about that, right?) *Scratching my head*

Maybe they will do the right thing. Maybe I'm losing my grip on pessimism. Probably not.

-Alex Tandy

Welcome to the Loyolan Staff Blog!

The opinions presented throughout this blog are from various staff members of the Los Angeles Loyolan. In their being personal opinions, they do not represent the opinion of the unified product that is the Los Angeles Loyolan.

The writers of this blog will be discussing relevant campus issues, through the means of either campus or national news. Yes, the recession does affect you, and yes, a writer may post something revolving around this topic, as long as it is relevant to the student body.

Please feel free to comment on any of the articles presented – but do, in the interest of a belief in the progression of human beings, refrain from flaming with derogatory and hateful language. Those comments will be happily deleted.

Thank you and enjoy.