With great thanks to three concussions, and multiple hits to the noggin during various activities, I can’t extract much.

The earliest memory that I can recall is sitting in the nose-bleed section of a Chiefs versus Jaguars game and thinking how phenomenal the entire thing was.

Here were 22 grown men, duking it out on a 100 yard battlefield and laying their bodies on the line, all for an undying passion for sport; or so I thought. Since that experience, the mantra of professional sports in my mind has been all about the winning, all about being the best in the league for bragging rights and giving everything you’ve got for a simple win.

But I’ve witnessed events in the past six months that have contradicted my childhood vision of professional sports.

On shows at pre-season training camps, players demand trades and playing the free agency field to switch onto teams and just join up with their buddies to dominate; these are two of the many things that make me realize how wrong I was about pro sports.

Nowadays it’s all about the money. All about the politics. Its all about how to make the most money, not about who can get the most wins.

I’ve realized that pro sports isn’t what I had always hoped it would be.

Professional sports is all business, and I don’t like it.

I’ve played a variety of sports in my day. I pretended to be Michael Phelps in the pool, Alfonso Soriano with the bat, and LeBron James on the court. I played soccer with orange pulp in my teeth on Saturday mornings, and have watched every NBA game on Christmas Day since I can remember. I have seven editions of Madden, and more baseball cards than you could ever imagine.

As a kid I always wanted to be a pro athlete. Like every other little kid, I started playing sports for the love of the game, and that’s why I still play today. I don’t run 10-in-60’s for this school so that I can get paid more. It never crossed my mind until recently that sports may be something like a business.

But honestly, what would happen if pro athletes got paid as much as say a lawyer? Or a teacher? How many players would stay in the league?

It seems like the older I get, the more selfish and greedy the players get.

Darrelle Revis is arguably the best corner-back in the NFL. He’s also one of the most selfish and greedy players that I’ve ever seen or heard of. Because of his ego, he is currently in a holdout with the New York Jets. Revis is due for $1 million for this next season, but since he thinks that he is God’s gift to the game, he wants to be paid $162 million more. At the moment, he has no job and isn’t any kind of role model for young athletes. He obviously isn’t playing the game of football for a profession because he loves it—he’s in it for the green.

This is just one instance of how players always want more money, and always want more attention. I feel like half of pro players strive to be on MTV Cribs rather than be on ESPN or gold in their teeth rather than a championship ring on their finger.

Sports is a business. I have to keep reminding myself of this day in and day out. I just don’t want to accept it.

Why is the third string quarterback the #1 selling jersey for the Denver Broncos? Why did LeBron James leave the Cavs?

Because sports is a business.

Players like Tim Tebow, LeBron James and Alex Rodriguez bring in bank just by the name on the back of the jersey. And the name on the back of the jersey brings in money for the name on the front of the jersey. It’s as simple as that.

Though they have shown their talents on-field, they are celebrities in the public eye and because of that, people want to see them because they are “famous.”

It’s almost like the players are the product, and the team is the company.

I play basketball at East and I don’t get paid a cent. In the two years I have been at this school, I haven’t seen one player quit because they don’t get paid enough, they don’t get thrown the ball enough, or they don’t get enough playing time. Why can’t professional players do the same? Why can’t they find their roots?

LeBron James leaving the Cavs for the Heat in July this summer was a business move. He had an opportunity to play with a better organization, and possibly get a NBA ring, so he took it.  He gets more money from the Heat and Cavs, he gets to play with better players and his friends, who wouldn’t take that job?

It’s just like if you are working at one law firm, and you get offered to go to a better law firm, would you do it? You’d be kidding yourself if you said no.

Sports is a business.

The discovery of happiness I acquired when I watched the Chiefs Jaguars game long ago isn’t what I thought it was cracked up to be.

Sports is a business. But I’m not near ready to accept it.

What this small BBQ joint lacks in style and appearance, it makes up for in its quick, home-style ribs and sandwiches.

The chimney was smoking as I pulled up to the little stone building (which used to be an A&W’s drive-thru in the 80’s) located just west of the 75th and Metcalf intersection. It was quiet and uncrowded, with no waiting in line.

The service was the fastest out of all the stores I had been to before, with the cashier shouting back my order to the cooks right after ordering.  My pulled pork and fries came out two minutes later on a lunch tray flanked by two full bottles of ketchup and barbecue sauce. With a drink, the whole meal cost a little over $8 total.

The sandwich itself was a little dry, but it was salvaged with plenty of the surprisingly sweet BBQ sauce. Only bits and pieces of pork remained after five minutes of eating. And as for the fries, tasty as they were, they lacked the freshness of the Five Guy’s fries. They looked like the type you find in the frozen foods section of the grocery store.

Wynadotte: Good barbecue at the expense of not-so-good atmosphere.

Great Harvest

The name gives it away. Great Harvest bakes fresh bread and cookies daily, with generous free samples available at request. In-store soups aren’t available while it’s still hot outside, but come fall they’ll start the cooking again.

The store itself is located in the center of the Corinth shops, on the same block as the recently opened BRGR. Although it has some diner-style swivel chairs and a small bar, there are no true sit down tables.

The store produces five basic breads daily, and the other types depending on the day of the week. The “samples” are actually full pieces of the bread on display, which makes for a nice snack to add to your meal.

As for the sweets, there’s a bounty of different choices — from Alpine Cookies and Mountain Munchies to Biscotto and Cinnamon Rolls.

I went with a piece of Woodstock and an all chocolate cookie, only $2 total (the bread was free). Both were fresh made that day,  and extremely soft.

It may not be a place to stop for a full lunch, but if you’re looking for a cheap dessert or an extra addition to your lunch to tide you over for the rest of the day, Harvest is the place to go.

Cafe Provence

Quietly tucked into the shops of Prairie Village, Cafe Provence  comes in on the higher-end of open lunch options, with a formal selection of French cuisine to choose from.

Perhaps a little too formal and cozy for a half-hour lunch break.

With a countryside mural wrapping around the walls of the entire restaurant and fully set-up tables  the atmosphere is relaxed, formal, cozy. Although the restaurant does feature a lunch menu, it isn’t exactly fit for a high school wants; it  seemed more fitting to serve a business meeting. The prices follow the same suit; none of the lunch items go for under $10, and that’s not including drinks or a side item.

I went with a salmon salad, or “Salade de Saumon Fume” as it was called on the menu, partly because I had trouble recognizing any of the other choices. The wait time was longer, around 10 minutes, due to the fact that it was a true sit down restaurant. Also portions were also smaller than I had expected. Although the food was excellently prepared, I wouldn’t suggest this as a go-to lunch spot for the seniors. For the sake of your wallet, very special occasions only.

C Jack’s Sidewalk Cafe

Another small independent PV restaurant, C Jack’s Sidewalk Cafe is a perfect bet for a quick, inexpensive meal. It’s contemporary, light and laid back, and the cafe itself already has some established ties to East, employing several students and displaying new works of student photography every month.

The menu offers a variety of options including soups and salads, sandwiches, wraps, paninis and pastas. All the individual meals and the combinations — say a soup and half salad, or half sandwich and cup of soup — range from only $6-9, a pretty thrifty buy compared to Provence.

The Fajita Grilled Wrap I chose was made right after ordering, and the freshness shined through. The chicken was largely sliced and succulent, and that combination of that and the fresh vegetables made for a delicious wrap despite the generous amounts of chipotle sour cream gobbed inside. Along with the caesar salad, it made for a quick, fairly healthy meal, all in under 20 minutes. C Jack’s wins as my personal favorite in the PV area.

Five Guys

Let’s be honest here. If you’re looking for some comfort food, some well cooked burgers and fries, Five Guys is the place to go. Walking into the simply decorated, red and white checkered restaurant in the former Ward Parkway McAllister’s Deli, it reminded me of summer cookouts- the smell of cooking burgers, sizzling fries, crunching peanuts and the comforting sounds of classic rock playing softly in the background. I was waiting for American flags to roll down from the ceiling and bald eagles to land on my shoulder; this place was simply American.

I ordered a regular hamburger (beware: regular hamburger means two patties, you’ll have to get the “little hamburger” for one patty), regular fries, and a drink. The price- almost $10, a bit on the expensive side for open lunch.

The meal itself, pricey as it was, couldn’t be topped by any other my past burger experiences. Perfectly cooked, juicy, loaded with onions, lettuce and peppers. And the fries? Thick, generous cut, natural flavor,  fried in peanut oil, loaded into a 12 oz. cup. I had enough for the drive home, the taste of America lingering with me. Simply delicious.

View a map of all these places with travel times from East.

I don’t intend to hurt any feelings, but I find it a bit redundant to reflect back upon the past four years of high school in writing my senior column. It has been done in some way, shape or form in every senior column in the history of high school journalism.

From, “My class rank sucks; don’t make the same mistakes I did,” to “Avoiding voice cracks during choir solo tryouts,” and even “I still don’t understand why ordering milk at WPA dinner is socially unacceptable,” they have all been done before.

In 2010, I aim to write something different. Instead of reminiscing on the past meaningfully, I will attempt to foretell the future meaninglessly.

For example, I don’t have a wormhole that tells me the Royals bullpen will blow a 3 run lead in the 8th inning on July 9 against the White Sox (I don’t need one for that, anyway). But my mom has always told me that I have darn good foresight, like the 4th of July when I specifically told my cousin that scotch-taping two M80s and a 50-pack of Black Cats to a measly Moonbeam Missile wasn’t a good idea. For the record, it nearly veered into the bed of a neighbor’s Silverado.

In the next couple paragraphs, that foresight will help unveil the next four years of life on Earth. Pay heed the following dates, because permission is granted to take any of this information to Vegas.

July 11, 2010 – Zinedine Zidane makes a surprise return to the World Cup final, this time in the press box with legendary British commentators Martin Tyler and Andy Gray. After becoming upset with Gray’s usual negative demeanor, Zidane headbutts Gray, forever impairing Gray’s trademark Scottish brogue.

Oct. 2, 2010 – Rock artists Nickelback release their newest album, “Reason for Taking the Dark Road.” Due to a lack of commercial success with the new record, Nickelback calls Radiohead’s “pay what you want” bet and ups the ante. The band decides to ask fans how much Nickelback should pay them to download the album. In essence, “How much can we pay you to take this from us?”

Nov. 14, 2011 – Apple releases their newest gadget, a mobile video gaming device dubbed the iPwn. The iPwn is Wi-Fi capable, fully holographic and 3D enabled, providing a visually nauseating experience.

Apr. 22, 2012 – Apple releases an updated version of the iPwn, the iPwn 3G. At this point, you should know to never buy the original Apple gadget in a series, because six months later they release a smaller, faster and much better version of the product.

Dec. 21, 2012 – The world ends. Short term solution – find your way onto a deep space probe. Long term solution – learn how to make Mars biologically habitable. Hint: the best bet is to inject greenhouse gases into the atmosphere to raise the planet’s average temperature up from the normal -81 degrees Fahrenheit. Good luck.

Remember, the remaining events are theoretical, considering the world already ended.

June 9, 2013 – The ultimate infomercial product, the “ShamOxiWeight,” hits cable programming. A seamless combination of the ShamWow!, OxiClean and Shake Weight, the ShamOxiWeight resembles a hand-operated convulsing dish towel soaked in Pine-Sol. It soon becomes a part of infomercial folklore for its renowned ability to remove stains, soak up residue and tone flabby forearms simultaneously. The tag line – “For just $19.95, it has never been so easy to eradicate grass stains from a pair of jeans and blast your triceps at the same time!”

Dec. 6, 2013 – Avatar II is released. After some of the biggest days in box office history, the general population soon discovers that, like its predecessor, the plot has been stolen from a “Pocahontas” movie. In this case, the victim is “Pocahontas II: Journey to a New World.”

May 10, 2014 – With his pitch count nearing 220 and his arm swollen to the size of a well-fed boa constrictor, Royals starting pitcher Zack Greinke is removed from his first-ever perfect game in the bottom of the 17th inning. Trying to avoid the still shaky bullpen, the Royals bring in their stalwart, Joakim Soria, despite the fact that he is on the DL with a torn right rotator cuff. Soria must pitch the ball lefty, which turns disastrous when the hitter hammers the ball out of the park.

To gain insight from that series of unimportant events would take some real effort, which, I suppose, is exactly what I set out to do. At least I tried to do something different, something that Nickelback can’t say about themselves.

On that note, seniors of 2010 and fellow senior columnists, see you in the future.

Between enrolling in college, paying for your first college classes, buying the necessities for your dorm and saying goodbye to your high school friends, you probably don’t have the time to think about how to buy your college textbooks. Buying textbooks is easy. All you have to do is go to your college bookstore and ask the salespeople how to buy their grossly-overpriced books. This is a great method….if you want your college to cheat you out of a hundred bucks. There’s actually a better way of buying books that’s only a little time-consuming but will save you lots of money.

First, you start at your college’s bookstore. Not to buy the books, but to look for a series of numbers stamped on the back of the textbooks, known as the ISBN number. After you find those numbers, write them down and then go to a computer and visit www.amazon.com. Look on the site for the textbook search and choose search by ISBN number. Enter in the ISBNs of your books (you can search for more than one book at the same time).

You will probably find several books that are one edition below the books your college’s bookstore sells. They’re almost exactly the same thing your professor expects you to use except instead of costing $150, these books cost as low as $1.50. Your professor usually teaches out of the most recent edition, which college bookstores usually sell, but professors usually understand that not all students have the most recent edition. If your professor insists on using problems from the most recent edition, you can still keep your “primitive” edition of your textbook and ask the cute classmate who sits next to you to let you copy down the problems.

But before you buy the cheap books off of Amazon, you should do a Google search for “college textbooks” and (the city and state your college is in). This will help you find the bookstores that sell books for your college at a discount price. Call these stores up and ask them how much they are selling these books for. Beat the Bookstore, a college bookstore in Lawrence, typically sells its books for whatever the best deal on www.amazon.com is for that particular day. If the bookstore offers you an amount that will lead to you saving money on shipping, ask the manager if you can order your books from the phone and pick them up when you visit your college for orientation over the summer.

If there’s still a book that costs more than $50 on Amazon, you don’t have to give up and buy from the fiendish college bookstore…yet. You should just show up to your first day of class and ask your professor, “What are we going to use our textbook for?” After your professor answers you, follow your question with, “How often are we going to use the textbook?” It is very important that you do not ask, “Do we need to use the textbook?” You probably won’t get an honest answer if you ask it like that because some department deans won’t allow professors to tell students they do not need the book. If your professor says the book won’t be used often, you might not need it. Instead, you can check copies of the book out from the campus library or from the resource centers of the department your class is in (i.e. the English department’s writing lab for a literature or writing class or the math resource center for a math class). Or again, you can copy down the problems from the cute classmate who sits next to you.

If your professor says you have to use the book about once a week and you have tried searching for your book online and through bookstores that aren’t affiliated with your college, it’s time to cave in and buy your book from the college bookstore. Our only advice to you is to not buy an electronic book that costs $10 less than the new books or a customized brief book. These deceptively look like you are saving $10 to $20, but you’re actually losing about $30 because you cannot sell these books back at the end of the semester.

After a semester of adapting to college homework, social life, and professors (who you, of course, looked at performance reviews of on www.ratemyprofessor.com before your first day of class, rather than blindly signing up for a professor and hoping it’s one who actually hopes you pass your classes), you will want a little money back at the end of the semester, right? The important thing to know is that selling back your textbook is also an important money-saving process just like buying your textbook. Instead of rushing to the bookstore that sold you the cheapest book you bought online, you should visit every local bookstore and ask the cashiers what their stores are willing to pay. You will be surprised at how much more generous some book sellers/buyers are. A little bit of searching can get you $50 back.

While you have learned a few tricks of the trade from us, there is still much, much more you need to learn about getting by in college. Grades are different. Homework is different. Even the clubs you got involved in in high school can be intimidating by the new air of professionalism your club officers might expect out of you. Don’t read this column and think you know everything about college. Ask your older cousins, siblings or older friends about navigating college. Ask them anything from how to get an “A” in college to what a permission code is and why asking your professor for it before you enroll for your courses will save you valuable time during orientation.

And most importantly, make sure they teach you to wash your laundry.

But it just so happens that a team of women – not men – have pulled off one of the greatest accomplishments in college sports. I speak of the Connecticut women’s basketball team. The Lady Huskies haven’t lost a game in 750 days. Their last defeat was to Stanford in the national semifinal on April 6, 2008. Since then, the team has achieved two consecutive perfect seasons of 39-0. According to my math, that’s 78 wins in a row. Yet they get back-seated to most other sports strictly because they are women.

The Connecticut women are only 10 wins shy of tying the NCAA record of 88 straight, set by the UCLA men’s team from 1971-1974. But their astounding streak has been overshadowed in the sports world by “more important things,” like Tiger Woods’ oopsie-daisies and John Wall shimmies.

The only difference between the feat of the 70s Bruins and this Lady Husky team that one word: Lady.

The Connecticut women deserve more credit for their unfathomable feat. Since the 1970s, there have only been two back-to-back champions and one unbeaten team in the men’s game. Perfect seasons just don’t happen in modern-day men’s basketball. Imagine Duke not dropping a game in the last two seasons. The accomplishment would undoubtedly be hailed as the greatest feat by the greatest team in college basketball history.Yet now that UConn has pulled off this inconceivable task, and we barely hear a peep.

Coverage this month has focussed too much on athletes’ personal lives, NASCAR and everyday MLB, rather than giving legitimate props to the Lady Huskies for achieving two straight perfect seasons.

The neglect starts with the underappreciation of UConn head coach Geno Auriemma.

Retired UCLA men’s coach John Wooden won 81 percent of his games over 40 years, piling up 885 wins and only 203 losses. He was arguably the sport’s greatest coach, having lifted 10 national championships. But what about Auriemma?

He has won 85 percent of his games in 24-year career, having accumulated 160 more wins than Wooden did in his first 24 years as a coach. Auriemma has won seven national titles, been to 11 Final Fours and captured 15 Big East championships.

But if you say the name Geno Auriemma, people may think you are casting a Harry Potter spell before they think of the women’s basketball coach.

To put the Connecticut women’s dominance into perspective, let’s compare them to the 2007-2008 Kansas Jayhawks, one of the most balanced collegiate teams in recent memory. Their season ended with a national championship and a 37-3 record. Their average win margin was 19 points and they shot 50 percent for the season, a feat that hasn’t been reached by any other national champion in the 2000s.

This doesn’t even compare to the Lady Huskies and what they’ve done the last two years.

In their 78-game span, Connecticut shot 51 percent and won every game but one by double digits. Their average margin of victory was 32.7 points. This dominance is basically unheard of in modern sports. Most teams are hard pressed to win by 30 a couple times per season. Connecticut averaged it over the span of two seasons.

I was on the East sophomore basketball team this year and we started 10-0. Though we didn’t finish the season undefeated, I learned a thing or two about what it takes for the perfect season. In order to maintain stay undefeated, a team needs three things: consistency, team play and drive.

Connecticut has all of these to a tee.

UConn has gone 78-0 since April of two years ago without missing a single beat. They have only won one game that was decided in single digits, and that was the championship game this year. This shows their consistent play and ability to avoid a mid-season slump two years running, a rarity in the game of basketball.

One thing I love about UConn is how they play as a team. They are extremely unselfish: four players on the 2010 team averaged in double digits. The team also dished 19.5 assists per game. This shows me team play. Assists are passes that lead to a bucket, and every single player on UConn this year averaged at least one a game.

Then there’s drive. During a halftime interview of the Lady Huskies’ Big East tournament game against Notre Dame this year, Auriemma called their offensive performance “the worst of the season.” They were winning by 19. That is the kind of pursuit of perfection that can lift a team and motivate them to get even better. If you are up 19 but your coach is ticked off, you know your team can do extraordinary things.

The Lady Huskies are so good that the day after they completed their second straight perfect season, there was talk on ESPN asking, “Should UConn disband their program because of dominance?” and “Is it fair for UConn to be winning like this?” Analysts across the nation were actually suggesting that UConn’s dominance was unfair and unjust.

The fact that these outrageous questions are even being posed, whether analysts are serious or not, is a testament to how amazing the Lady Huskies are. These questions have never been asked about a men’s team, have they?.

As a fanatic of basketball and a player myself, I admire the fact that UConn has such a dominant program. Sure, people can make the argument, “Men’s basketball is entirely different, there’s more parity and anyone could beat anyone on a given day.”

To an extent, I agree with that. Many say that this dominance would never be achieved at the men’s level. But I believe it all evens out. The UConn women are playing other women, just like men play men. So it’s clearly taken something special for the Lady Huskies to pull off an accomplishment as great as this.

Some say that it isn’t even fun to watch UConn play because of their dominance. This brings up an interesting thought. I believe UConn is a tremendous example of basketball at its finest. They are a deep team that hustles on every play like they are down by 30 rather than up 30. In games that I’ve been losing by more than 20, my opponent usually gets sloppy and just shows off. The Lady Huskies play the entire 40 minutes without getting too cocky.

The UConn ladies are chasing UCLA’s record of 88 consecutive wins, a milestone they can smell by now. But even when they surpass 88 – and yes, they’re going to do it – I don’t expect them to get the publicity they rightfully deserve. When they passed the previous women’s record of 70 unbeaten, no one thought twice about the accomplishment.

The Lady Huskies are without a doubt one of the most impressive teams in college basketball history. It’s a shame that they have been overshadowed by other storylines just because they are women and aren’t respected in a male-dominated sports world.

I faced the ever hard decision between what I wanted to do, what would make me happy, and the prospect of compromising someone else’s hopes. Their hopes of running unopposed, and without the fear that their desire of holding an exceptionally coveted position on East’s student council might end in disappointment.

Originally I chose selfishness. I decided I would run for Vice President. If it was a title that I was after, then Vice President seemed like a reasonable step up from Treasurer, and therefore suited me well. Soon after signing up, I made my way down to the library where I eagerly wrote a humorous speech comparing myself then Vice President, Dick Cheney. As I printed off the speech and was making my way to room 307 to submit it to Ms. Fishman, I ran into a friend and fellow StuCo member who was also running for an officer position. I told her where I was on my way to.

“You’re running for treasurer, right?”

“No, actually I’m running for Vice!”

“No don’t do that, if you run for treasurer, then all of us can be officers… ok?”

“Alright.”

That’s all it took for me to change my mind, and to convince myself of my what at the time seemed like   selfish motives. I empathized with the person running for Vice President, and decided to run for Treasurer,for the second time.

Then at the speeches, where I gave what was just as humorous of a speech making jokes about money as was the one I wrote with jokes about having almost shooting someone in the leg with a rifle at camp, I heard the candidate for President saying something along the lines of “Wow, I don’t think my speech was very good. If someone were running against me I probably would have lost.”

I can still remember freshman year, when I had to write my very first election speech. I had never written a speech before in my life. The only time I had said anything into a microphone in front of my peerswas in my sixth grade spelling bee.

I had no idea how to do it. So I did what I always do when I have no idea what to do: I turned to Yahoo! Answers. I searched “Student Council Speech,” I found a question that mirrored my own dilemma. I scrolled down to the “Best Answer,” and followed the steps.

“Introduce yourself.”

“Hi, I’m Tom Lynch…”

“Tell them the position you are running for.”

“… and I’m running for Freshman Class Treasurer.”

In journalism, the lead is usually the hardest part, so it isn’t surprising that a start was all I needed. After that I talked about my qualifications including “loving to count money” and “being able to use a calculator.” Finally, I followed the poster’s last bit of advice, and concluded by reminding the students who I was.

“So, remember to vote for Tom Lynch for Treasurer!”

I had written my first speech. And after I gave it, my opponent in the Freshman election told me she would’ve voted for me if she had been in the audience. Plenty of people told me that I had the best speech. Freshman year they told me. Sophomore year they told me. And this year, I had teachers that I had never even seen before telling mehow much they had enjoyed my speech.

Then I lost. So not only has Student Council taught me how to give a speech, but it has also taught me not to rely on a single thing in order to achieve something. For example when I apply for college, I shouldn’t rely on either a good GPA, test scores, or my essays alone to get me in, but make sure that they are all good in case one isn’t ”good enough.”

So yes, in the end I lost the election for Junior Class President. It may have been because I didn’t campaign hard enough. It may have been because the Freshman StuCo members picked up the envelopes without having all the votes in them. It was probably because having two boys running splits the guy vote and allows for an easy victory for the girl. But, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I’ve learned a lot from the experience of having run alone. Every year my speeches get a little bit better. My body shakes a little bit less when I stand in front of my class. And, I get a little bit more self confidence after all is done. Even when I lose.

Such isn’t the case for the teddy bear I abandoned in Colorado, with the missing nose and the dirt-ridden fuzz. Nor for the mood ring my brother got me as an impromptu gift, with turtles along the edges, lost somewhere between an airport, my dad’s car and the endless abyss that is my room. The clutter tends to join together, creating some sort of unstoppable, mess-eating monster that will stop at nothing to eat everything I own.

I used to have the color guide for the mood ring, but I’m sure my room has eaten it by now.

It’s the combination of my poor organization skills and my memory of an 80-year-old that cause my grief. I can’t keep anything straight in my head, so I cling to my planner, writing down anything that might be helpful later, trying desperately to organize the thoughts in my head so that maybe, just maybe, the rest of it—schoolwork, my room, my closet—will fall into place. Unfortunately, this isn’t true. I have to keep track of everything lost in my life.

Things Currently Missing:

– Wallet

– Journal

– Headphones

– Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (paper and          hardback)

– Roughly $20

– Probably my retainer

– The Office season 2 DVD set

– Around 50 pencils/pens (from the start of the year)

My most prized possession I lost only a few months ago. Salvaged from a thrift store: green, Velcro and sporting a blown-up image of Mewtwo, my Pokémon wallet was  home to the Wallet Creeper (a picture cut out of a Barbie Magazine and placed where a driver’s license would go) and all my forms of identification, and about $3  in cash at any given moment. I absentmindedly left that glorious wallet at the library after volunteering for a few hours, and within a few days the bank called saying there was suspicious activity on my debit card.

It’s not that I purposefully make my room a mess—I honestly try to keep it someone organized. But digging through my dresser in the morning for that one T-shirt, I fling all my clothes out of the drawers and onto the floor, and aha! there it is! I could pick up the other clothes, but I’m already running 15 minutes late, so I can just wait until I get home. And then I get home from a long day and I’m tired, and the clothes aren’t hurting anything just staying on the floor. Plus there’s homework to do, and after that I’m just too tired. The next day it only gets worse, until instead of digging through my dresser I’m digging through the piles on the floor.

It’s not just my room, though. My backpack is a jumbled, chaotic mess. Folders have been ripped and repaired with tape so many times the thought of putting just one more paper in makes them whimper. Illegible notes are jammed in every crevice, but it doesn’t matter if I can read them or not because they’ll just be lost by the time I need them. It’s fourth quarter now, so why would I bother reorganizing? Just a few more weeks, then I can get a new backpack that doesn’t have a hole in the top.

“Hey, Katy, can I borrow your notes from calculus?” Someone from calculus class will often ask.

“I wouldn’t recommend it….” I say, embarrassed

And no one else would recommend it, either. My study groups have known for a long time that my notes are inconsistent and that the highlight marks are more from carelessly daydreaming than actually paying attention.

The only thing that’s been organized consistently throughout my life has been my bookshelf. I reorganize my books every time my dad tells me to clean my room, ever since the first day, when I only had the first two Harry Potters and a few picture books. I pulled all 15 of them off the shelves, pushed shoes and clothes and crayon drawings around me in a semicircle, and started organizing into piles. By author, by title, my own skewed Dewey Decimal system; in order of favorite to least, from most read to unread, first read to latest. And then, after spending hours of meticulously organizing those small, white shelves, I’d ball up the rest of my mess and stuff it in the closet. Why did you decide to organize just the bookshelf? It kinda kills your point, provide a reason.

The shelves are still white, but narrower and taller. The first shelf is for the books I most often pull off the shelves. Harry Potter, Catcher in the Rye and Dave Eggers’s A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Then they’re separated by size; the “fiction” books being sandwiched by small paperbacks and nonfiction/memoirs, horizontally stacked. But really, I can’t even keep track of my Harry Potter books.

My bookshelf is the one exception of my life, where things are clean and crisp and organized. But everything else falls apart at the seams. Losing everything from my wallet to my American History notes, I joke that everything I touch is doomed to be lost. My life is almost always in a state of disarray, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.

***

It’s 7 a.m. on the day that I have to take the SAT. I turn the music on in my silver Volvo 240 and head towards Rockhurst High School. The song is “Charlie” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Once inside, the test goes pretty much as planned: four-and-a-half hours filled with bubbling and erasing. A few kids break out the string cheese and Nutri Grain bars as brain food during the intermissions. I just sip the metallic water from the drinking fountain and try not to stare at the hands of the clock.

“I have to get out of here,” I think to myself. I glance up across the room lit by cheap fluorescent lights, the walls the color of sour milk. Ten minutes to go and my head is an aching jumble of useless rewording, reasoning and reading. The midpoint formula and the volume of a cube jumble together with passages about everything from nature to an explanation of earthquakes.

After slopping down a halfhearted essay on Machiavellian ethics I stuff my two dulled Ticonderoga pencils in my jean pocket and walk out into the hall. I’m planning on a nice, relaxing day of TV, a chicken burrito with everything but beans from Chipotle and maybe a party that night. Then I hear the words that make that impossible.
“Duncan, do you know anything about Bryan?” A girl from my school asks with a concerned look on her face.
“No, what happened? Is he in trouble?” I say, thinking that Bryan probably got busted at a party, or maybe broke an ankle while heelflipping a ten stair on his skateboard.
“I got a text from Erika,” she says, “saying ‘my friend Bryan is in the hospital in a coma. Pray for him’.”
I can’t manage any words. My thoughts skitter away in 1,000 different directions. Bryan in a coma? Did he fall while skating? Was he in a car with a drunk driver? I call my friend and Bryan’s best friend Adam as soon as I leave the building. He answers with a distant hello, like I’m talking to him through an intercom and he’s miles underground.

“Adam, did something happen to Bryan?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

There’s a pause and Adam’s voice quivers. “Let me call you back.”

***

I feel dazed as I climb into my boxy Volvo again. I back out in the midst of a couple hundred exhausted and relieved teenagers and my phone dings. It’s a text message from Adam. I stop abruptly in the middle of the parking lot, blocking the traffic. The words appear on my phone screen and drown out the car horns.

-Bryan is gone. He hit a tree last night.
I had just shown my mom a video of him skating with his new team the night before. He had that nollie heelflip on lock. He used to joke about being sponsored by a skate shop, only to tell me later that he was just messing with me. But I knew that he wanted it to be true, and that he was good enough for it to happen someday. He had just gotten sponsored by Studio Skate Supply two weeks ago. How could he be gone right after that?

Not Bryan, the guy who always greeted me with a cheerful yell of my name from Spanish class, “Domingoooo!” then cocked his arm back past his head for our middle school handshake. Not Bryan, the one who knew I liked a girl at a party in seventh grade and dared her to kiss me because I was too nervous to make a move. Not Bryan, my friend who stayed up late and watched “Saw” with me, then kept me up until four in the morning asking,

“Could that ever actually happen?”

Over and over again.

***

I eat a chicken sandwich and waffle fries at Chic-fil-A with my friend Jordan and his dad after the SAT. Why doesn’t anything feel different? If Bryan were really gone, people wouldn’t be laughing and buying chocolate shakes. There’s no way I’d be having a mechanized conversation about college applications over lunch. Then the words light up on my phone screen and drown everything out again.

-We’re all meeting at Ellie’s. Come if you can.
I stop by my house to change. I tell my mom about the SAT, then about Bryan and I drop down into the black leather chair in our living room. She starts sobbing immediately and asks if I’m sure, not believing that it’s true. I wonder what’s wrong with me. My stomach and legs feel empty and thin, but I can’t cry. I drive to Ellie’s alone with no music playing.

When I get there, Ellie greets me with a feeble smile and a hug. I can tell she’s been crying by the red veins and puffy spots around her eyes. We climb the white carpeted stairs and I see a group of over 20 kids sitting, crying and hugging. I sit down on top of a wooden desk by a computer where an image of Ellie grabbing Bryan’s chin and smiling is already the screensaver. I try to let out the sadness but I can’t. I’m afraid that it doesn’t seem like I care. That I’m not as sad as everyone else. Then Ellie tells the story, her voice laden with rattling deep breaths as she struggles to remain composed.

“Bryan was going too fast down Ward Parkway,” she says. “He took his eyes off the road and hit a tree, and then his car swung into another tree. They think he was brain dead instantly.”

People all around break into gasping sobs. I see the twin football players Kris and Kevin Hertel bawling into their royal blue KU basketball T-shirts. I’ve never seen them cry, and the tears begin sliding down my face. Why did it have to be Bryan? His potential seemed limitless, he could have ridden that piece of plywood on aluminum and urethane until he was famous. People in the skateboard community were calling him “the next big thing out of KC.” And he had just gotten sponsored two weeks before.

Then the stories start.

“Remember when Bryan dressed up as Elvis for Halloween?”

“Or the time we played hot tub Olympics and filmed it? Bryan almost broke his leg jumping into that hot tub.”

“What about the time we played hide and seek and Bryan stayed hidden for so long that he crapped his pants?”

Through the tears and sadness everyone starts laughing. We start talking about a foundation to help kids get sponsored for skateboarding who really want and deserve it. We start planning a candle light vigil.

I look around the room and realize that the people here aren’t just from our grade, and most of them rarely see each other outside of school. There’s a senior with a stubbly black beard, a striped shirt filled with holes and a beanie next to the two twin football players. A preppy guy in a lime green Polo shirt is hugging Bryan’s best friend Adam the blues guitar player. I realize that’s the kind of kid Bryan was. Kind to everyone and always confident in himself. Fitting in everywhere.

As we all get up to leave after close to four hours of remembering I give Adam a hug, too. I tell him that I love him and we all walk back down the white-carpeted stairs. I get back into my car and the tears start flowing again. I’m glad that I can let it out, even though it’s still impossible to understand why Bryan had to leave us at age 17, and my grandpa remains confined to his wheelchair. I turn my car on and head towards home, this time with the music playing. The song is “Could You Be Loved” by Bob Marley. It reminds me of Bryan.

This is a great option for a number of reasons, but above all else, it would give more power to the everyday citizen even if it is not passed.

With the current troubles that the SMSD is going through, this connection between administrator and citizen is now needed more than ever. Improvement cannot be brought about simply by budget cuts. Citizens need to be involved in local elections and given the right to vote on these issues. A simple solution, if passed, would be a minor tax that can be either be voted yes or no on in local elections.

In 2003, this was used in Johnson County when voters were asked to answer yes or no on a quarter-cent sales tax which would help fund public schools in Johnson County. It was ultimately adopted and renewed again in 2006, but for the last time. In its three year span, the eligible public school districts received slightly more than $66.4 million dollars in taxes, according to JoCogov.org.

The SMSD was included among these districts. The extra money that went to the district was used in many areas and ultimately beneficial.

However, if our district wants to make a tax like this a possibility yet again, they must get the state to change current restrictions put on our Local Option Budget (LOB). Currently, 31 percent of our general fund comes in through this budget, which is essentially just taxes. The other 69 percent comes from state legislature. The formula used for how much money the state give districts is $4,200 multiplied by the number of students a district has, in our case, 28,000.

This law was originally enacted in 1992 so smaller districts who don’t have a lot of local income can sustain themselves. The problem now with the larger districts is that the 31 percent coming in locally is not enough. In the SMSD’s case, they need more money now, and if 31 percent was to raise to 40 percent, the district would have much more money coming in through taxes.

The district is currently trying to get this law changed and they are right in this stance for a number of reasons.

Currently in the district, a tax similar to the aforementioned is an absolute necessity. In the past decade, the district has steadily declined financially, losing state funded money each year. Last year, budgetary cuts were deemed necessary in many departments– certain elementary schools were combined or flat-out shut down, the CIS program was relocated to Shawnee Mission South and Driver’s Education Programs were eliminated.  And this year an additional $10.2 million is estimated to be cut from the budget according to the local budget meetings.

So, if the state can change the current law, a very minor tax could be an option in local elections that would go towards fixing the current budgetary woes in the district.

Some may make the argument that people will not be so quick to vote yes on something that will take money from their own pocket. But as the second largest school district in Kansas with 28,000 students and 4,100 employees, the SMSD’s problems are an obvious concern for a large demographic of people. Already a group has been formed called “Save the Shawnee Mission School District.” The group follows the district and even has their own Web site where you can learn about the current state of the district and offers steps on how you can help out.

Also, some people find this tax unfair because rural districts with less money would not be able to pull off such a levy. And while this is true, in some ways the SMSD is in more need of financial aid than rural districts.

One of the main reasons the SMSD is eligible for this tax in the first place is that their money per student rate is notably low — $8,890 according to the Kansas City Star. But in rural schools that number is substantially higher — Healy School District in Healy, Kansas has $19,943 available per student, West Solomon in Lenora, Kansas has $19,356 and Jewell in Randall, Kansas has $18,580.

All of these districts contain just a fraction of the students that the SMSD has and consequently, more money is open for each student. So right now, the SMSD needs these taxes more than that of rural districts.

So why not go for this additional tax? If our current funding system can be changed, a tax like this could only be beneficial to the district. If it is passed, it will bring in a substantially higher amount of money than now. And if it’s rejected, at least citizens had a say in the tax and were involved.

A key element to getting out of financial debt is involvement of the people. In continuing to move towards this tax, the SMSD is giving hope that they can get out of their problematic financial state.

Once upon a time, in the 1700′s, if a young lad had an interest in a young lass, he would write her a sonnet. This is essentially a song without the music to go along with it. Upon recieving the sonnet, the lady would either date the strapping lad, or crumple up the paper and laugh in his face.

Now, I’m not saying that this kind of thing doesn’t still happen, but in our modern times it’s easier to just “facebook stalk” your lover after getting to know them. Not to mention this isn’t half as much work as a three stanza one couplet sheet of paper. I have a feeling that now, there is a big difference between a love song, and a song that just happens to be about love. For example.

In the top 50 songs on iTunes, there are about six “Love Songs” that have a message that seems to me like they were written for the right reasons, like, “Hey Soul Sister” by Train, with its sincere lyrics about the boy who wants the girl. Next, I counted another six that seemed to be songs that were “about a relationship”. It’s pretty clear that these were meant for no purpose other than to get “mad stacks” of money and a car full of girls. Songs like “Blah Blah Blah” by Ke$ha irritate me because the world is really just better off without a mindless twenty-something “singing” about hooking-up. The fact of the matter is, be careful as to what songs you choose for serenading you’re special someone with this spring. You wouldn’t want to use a Ke$ha line like “I wanna dance with no pants on,” and end up getting smacked across the face.