- Quinnipiac men’s basketball drops home opener to Hartford, 68-54
- BREAKING: Finance chair Thomas Coe confronted by anti-child abuse activist, on leave from the university
- An Election Reflection
- Nation to Campus: Subjectivity and the Constitution
- Wasteful ways
- Students struggles at the polls
- So long, Rick Grimes?
- Will Part Time get the recognition they deserve?
- ‘Lotta ties, lotta ties’
- Crossing the line
Things to be thankful for
Advice from Andy
Tis the season of belt-bursting, turkey-objectifying, Tums-popping fun only had by those who call America home. As we approach—with fork and knife clutched tightly in hand—the holiday devoted to gluttonous thankfulness (a truly American holiday if there ever was one), let us first turn inward and say thanks to the unique people, places and objects Quinnipiacians should (and must) be thankful for.
Now let’s ensue on a turkey-trifecta of things Quinnipiac students should be thankful for:
Number one: Toad’s Place.
Oh, Toad’s. How wonderful art thou?
I believe I just heard the collective gasp of the entire university community. I can already hear students and faculty alike asking, “is this guy serious?” Well, actually, I am quite serious (well maybe).
As we hurdle toward finals week and the end of the fall 2014 semester, we must endeavor to give thanks to the place in which dreams, aspirations and hopes die—or are at least forgotten until Sunday morning rolls around. For all the grievances voiced against our froggy friend, we must also sing a song of gratitude (well actually we should probably drop a sick beat) to Toad’s—it is a club inextricably bound to the Quinnipiac student body’s DNA. We have a mutually symbiotic relationship with Toad’s; we give to it, and it gives to us—we offer monetary support, and Toad’s graciously offers foggy Sunday mornings and stories we will never tell our children. The little things in life truly are the things we should be most thankful for—so thank you Toad’s Place.
Number two: Java John.
So here’s the situation: it is Monday morning and you are already running late for your 8 a.m. anatomy lab. Dried toothpaste residue clings merrily to the corner of your mouth, bed head—born from a restless night of intermittent sleep while your roommate obsessively played Call of Duty—pushes your hair every which way and a stylish grey sweat suit gives you the physique of a grey blob. As you rush through the cafeteria—coffee in one hand and a sesame seed bagel in the other—the realization sets in that only one register is open: it is Java John. As you approach the front of the line, you notice the time: you are 15 minutes late now.
It becomes clear that the student standing in front of you has two pieces of fruit; Java makes it known that he does indeed have a pair (not pear, but a pair. Isn’t wordplay fun?).
As you place your breakfast down to be tallied up, you are reminded of how nice you are, (you really are so nice) and then are told—by last name, of course—to have a nice day after tapping your Q-card. As you sprint to class—in a moment of stress-induced clarity—the realization occurs that being late for class was totally worth it; cashiers are a dime a dozen, but Java John is priceless. So here’s to you, Java John. Thank you for making every purchase an adventure, moments we will never soon forget.
Number three: The (still) green grass.
How’s that even possible? It’s like 30 degrees outside. Seriously.
In all seriousness, students at Quinnipiac have much to be thankful for—the dedicated faculty, the hard-working maintenance, facilities and cafeteria workers, the administration, our friends and our families. Being a member of the Quinnipiac community should make one aware of how well we have it, and how the privileges we deem necessary cannot be offered at to many around the world.
So this Thanksgiving, let’s be thankful for all we have been given—and that includes Toad’s Place.