October 22, 2012 • A POSITIVE PRESS PUBLICATION • VOL. 3, ISSUE 5
Automatic For the People
written by fourth-year, Paco Payne
Automatic for the People typically brings to mind songs by R.E.M. like Nightswimming, Man on the Moon, and Everybody Hurts. But to the Classic City it brings to mind something else. It brings to mind the sign carelessly swinging outside of the iconic green building down Broad Street--Weaver D’s. Just a short walk down Broad Street from the Classic Center, Weaver D’s has been serving Athens comfort soul food for over 26 years. A nationally recognized restaurant, Weaver D’s has been on my UGA bucket list since my first year on campus. Recently, I had the joy to finally eat at this restaurant and to get a chance to talk with Dexter Weaver, the founder and owner
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As I walked into the small green building at the bottom of the hill I was welcomed with a southern aroma of fried chicken and cornbread and I was greeted by a kind man who asked, “Hey boo. What can I get for you?” I ordered fried chicken with green beans and macaroni and cheese and took a seat at one of the indoor picnic tables, where I finished my plate, while licking my fingers clean. The fried chicken was some of the best I’ve ever had and the macaroni and cheese was amazing.
After I finished I sat down with Dexter and asked him why he started his restaurant. His response was simple: “People liked my food.” Dexter started out in fast food and slowly started to make his own food and sell it around Athens out of his car. When I asked him why he keeps his doors open every day Dexter replied, “Because we do what we love and love what we do.” There was no insert about money or fame. Dexter simply does what makes him happy and luckily it makes his hungry customers happy as well. The atmosphere and kind staff along with the delicious food to enjoy make for an experience not to be missed, so come on down the hill to the little green building on Broad and enjoy a true Athens staple. There you will meet Dexter Weaver and the rest of his wonderful staff who will be waiting to serve you delectable soul food that is truly automatic for the people. |
My Long-Term Relationship with UGA
written by second-year, Alex Carruth
I love UGA, and because of this love, I have my own daily affirmation: “I love the campus. I love the students. I love the staff. I love the sports. I love the clubs. I love the buildings. I. Love. The. Whole. Campus!”
When I first came to UGA I had no idea I would fall as deeply in love with it as I have. On our first date when I toured as a senior in high school, I knew it was love at first sight. The southern hospitality mixed with an urban side was enough to make me know UGA was the school for me. I counted down the days ‘til we would meet again and waited with great anticipation to call Athens home. Now in my second year in the Classic City, I am happy to say UGA and I have recently celebrated our two-year anniversary and two of the best years of my life. Since we started our relationship, this place has only become more and more beautiful. I have become infatuated with beautiful North Campus and its tradition, the amazing spots to study (and nap) both on and off campus, and have found myself awestruck every time I find somewhere new - like the koi pond by the Forestry Resources Building. What can I say? UGA is beautiful. However, looks are by no means everything; the school has also taught me many valuable lessons. |
For example, I have learned that there is no better place to be on a fall Saturday in Athens than in Sanford Stadium cheering on the Dawgs with 92,746 of my closest friends. There is also no other way to get around campus than by being packed in with what seems to be those same 92,746 closest friends on an Orbit bus. It has taught me there is no better way to be greeted than with a hug from Ms. Sandra, no better places to people watch than Tate Plaza and Jittery Joe’s, and no other mystery quite as mysterious as who the Bolton Creeper is and why he seems to live there. I will also always remember the first time we stayed up all night together when I had to study for finals in the MLC the first time, and our first fight a few months ago when freshmen got priority on season football tickets.
As UGA and I celebrate more firsts together, campus gets better looking every day, and we spend more time together, our relationship grows stronger - reminding me of how lucky I am to be able to grow old with ‘the fairest of the Southland.’ I may know my days in this long-term relationship of four to five years are numbered, but my commitment to UGA, my commitment to The G, will last a lifetime. |
The Power to Empower
written by fourth-year, Ellis Edwards
Kiva is my favorite thing on the internet. I don’t use it daily, I don’t have friends or followers there, and it doesn’t make me more productive. In fact, at Kiva.org, I’m not really even the point.
Kiva.org exists to “connect people through lending to alleviate poverty.” Kiva is a website built to make micro-lending easy by connecting people who have needs to people with money. Micro-lending is based on the idea that in much of the world, a boost of only a few hundred dollars opens new doors and opportunities for the working poor. Suppose a father in Peru needs to buy a motorcycle. He doesn’t need a handout from an American on vacation, he just needs a loan. If he can get a loan for a motorcycle, he’ll have transportation; if he has transportation, he can get a higher paying job. With a motorcycle to get to work, he is able to make enough to pay off the loan. At the end, he has both a means of transportation and a new job with better wages. And the lenders who supported him aren’t out a dime. All he needed was a boost. Now suppose this father’s name was José and he had a 10-year-old son. And suppose I had twenty-five bucks in my bank account that I didn’t need for a few months. I’m sure you see where this is going. On May 24th of this year, fifteen lenders pitched in to give José a $575 loan for his motorcycle. Through Kiva, I was able to lend my excess to José to give him the boost he needed to improve his life. This is the most innovative and world changing use of the internet I |
have ever been a part of. Kiva isn’t a social site the way we think of it, but it connects people in the best way for the best reasons. That’s what makes it my favorite website.
But the best part? It truly is a loan! When José has paid back his loan, that same twenty-five dollars goes back into my account, ready to enable someone else’s dream. So here’s the action piece: as we approach the season of giving, I dare you to visit Kiva.org. I dare you to find twenty-five dollars that you’re not using. I dare you to lift up someone you’ll never meet. In fact, I think you should start today. Leveraging resources through the internet has never been simpler. You have the power to empower. Happy lending! |
The Italian Woman
written by third-year , Austin Blouin
I’d never considered that leather could smell good. It’s leather. Skin. Epidermis. There’s something gross about that. That said, I was in Florence and everything seemed to smell better.
“What do you think of this one?” My friend looked at me for approval. My first thought was of the cow whose outside he was wearing. I thought of the Chick-fil-A cows, and how people can’t really wear chicken so even if we ‘eat mor chikin’ they still have something to worry about. The poor things. But that leather sure does smell good. My second thought, “Eh, it’s okay. Try another one.” Suddenly, from the other side of the store: “Why do Americans care so much about what other people think?” Daydreams cut short, my eyes shot to see the owner of the leather shop standing beside a waist-high rack of biker jackets. She was a short, slim Italian woman. She looked young, but you could tell her age by the way her eyes retreated a little inside her. It’s like all the stories, people, and lives she’d seen over the years had worn them away. She continued, “I’ve had this shop for years. |
Twenty, thirty years ago, Americans would walk in here and know what they wanted. But now… always this trepidation… ‘What do you think? How does this look?’”
She looked at my friend. “How does this jacket make you feel? Because if you feel good about it, you should take it. If you don’t, then you shouldn’t. It’s as simple as that. You Americans claim to pride yourselves on your individuality, but you can’t make a single decision for yourself. Why?” Woah. What kind of sage is this woman? She is either an astute cultural observer, or a phenomenal saleswoman, or both. I was floored. It took her two seconds to say something I’d been trying to phrase for twenty years. I didn’t have an answer for her question, and ever since that moment in Florence I’ve thought about it. Her comment pointed out a serious disparity in our culture’s thought process. We all want to be individuals, but every day we filter our personal decisions to appeal to others. We weren’t this way before, so what happened? How did we become so acquiescent that a woman in Italy was concerned? |
I have yet to answer these questions, but I have realized something: I aim to please too frequently. I never make anyone mad. As silly as that sounds, it’s something I’ve started to change, because I was starting to feel invisible. I was camouflaging myself with my actions. What’s the point of buying a jacket that nobody will notice? Of going after a job that everyone wants? How is that you?
Truth is, people hide because they’re scared. They don’t believe they can stand up to challenges that will inevitably seek them out, so they fall in line and disguise themselves with homogeneity. Maybe it’ll work – but if it does or doesn’t, you won’t feel good about it. Challenges shape us, mold us, and make us who we are; making bold decisions is the first step to tackling them. So don’t settle for a smelly, average leather jacket. Get one that will knock people’s socks off so frequently that shoes will be scared of it. Mine is red. |
The Peanut Man
written by second-year, Ryan Sichelstiel
It’s the most magical place on Earth, north of Orlando of course—the Georgia National Fair. Every October, the Fair sets up camp for two weeks in my hometown of Perry. Most towns and schools have homecoming football games, but we have the Fair. The thrill rides that have aged with me, the feeling in the air that screams “fall has arrived,” and the smell of the overly-priced, yet mouth-watering food are just a few reasons why I consider the Fair to be so magical. This year, however, the magic was a bit different.
Last weekend, a few of my friends and I packed up the car and headed south for the closing weekend of Perry’s biggest event. Since my friends came along, this was the first year I did not go to the fair with Mom and Dad. I was not the only one to find this realization nostalgic: my wallet did too. I knew the Fair and all of the wonderful rides, food and games added up in cost, but I did not realize how much until I checked my balance prior to acting like there was a hidden money tree behind the Ferris wheel. |
Every year, I close my parent’s tab at the fair by purchasing a bag of the best boiled peanuts in the South. I attempted to carry on this tradition solo, but after walking up to the cash register and losing my breath once I found out that a small bag of boiled peanuts cost $7.00, I kissed this annual feast goodbye. As I turned away, the cashier asked, “Everything okay buddy?” I embarrassingly responded, “Yeah, as much as I’d like to, I just don’t know if this poor college student can spend seven bucks on peanuts.”
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All of a sudden, I felt like I was in one of those heartwarming, but cheesy movies—I put my head down, began walking back to my friends when I heard, “Well, here’s to me maybe calling you ‘boss’ one day.” I turned around, looked up, and my long-awaited bag of boiled peanuts was in the air, preparing to land right in my hands. Once I caught this gift that looked like it was dropped out of heaven, I looked at the man at the register, said “thank you,” shared a simple, genuine smile and headed on my way.
I’m challenging you to do something good—a random act of kindness, if you will. Out of the entire weekend I spent road-tripping with some of my best friends, the one moment that truly defined the weekend was when the peanut man and I exchanged smiles. Do something good, even if you only give something as small as peanuts to a stranger. Tickets to some of my favorite rides, $20.00. Gas to fuel the road trip, $80.00. Being on the receiving end of a random act of kindness, priceless. |
Book Review: The Alchemist
written by third-year, Nick Toomey
The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho ranks at the top of my short list of books to read once a year. Timeless literature is something we all seek, but I swear to you, I’ve never been so compelled to re-read a book immediately after finishing it as I was with “The Alchemist.” There is enormous depth to this short novel, more than can be measured
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with just one single read.
The plot follows a young Andalusian shepherd boy named Santiago, a boy who yearns for another path than the one laid out before him by his father. After receiving prophetic advice from a gypsy, the boy boldly sells his flock, says goodbye to his family, and leaves the south of Spain in search of a fabled treasure hidden within the ancient Egyptian pyramids. Initially a desperate search for worldly pleasures, Santiago’s journey unearths even greater discoveries within. He meets a wonderful gypsy woman, a king, a glass salesman, and an alchemist, each offering their own value to Santiago’s ever-growing view of the world. Thematically the plot bursts with world-shaking knowledge, but Coelho drives home one core concept again and again: “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” |
This simple, enchanting tale is an ode to consciousness and the power of intent. Culture to culture, “The Alchemist” stands as a timeless testament to our ability to dream and follow our intuitions as life unravels before us. The book is about embracing our unique Personal Legend and urges us to take charge of this wonderful story we are telling every day. Take charge of your story by making it one worth telling and as Coelho poignantly writes, “Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will will find your treasure.”
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