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Viewpoints Social Issues Screaming, keyboards, microwaves and me Behind the scenes at a major-mar ket internship, part one... When I first walked into the Washington, D.C., bureau of the major-market New York news paper where I was lucky enough to land an intern ship, I was im mediately made to feel right at home. Not my John Huiett is a journalism senior and news editor. He can be reached at game cockviewpoints ©hotmaii.com home, nund you, but the home of some one who wasn’t expecting a guest. “Hi. I'm your new intern.” “You’re supposed to intern here? For us?” I have to hand it to the office man ager. She was quick. Quick witted myself, my brain searched for all possible answers to her query. After a half second of strenuous inner deliberation, I found the one re sponse that revealed what a no-nonsense and efficient communicator I was. “Yes,” I answered. I could tell she was impressed by what she said next. “Wait here.” As I waited in a brown overstuffed leather chair that was undoubtedly re served for important D.C. newsmakers who were actually on someone’s ap pointment list (it was like sitting in a gi ant roasted marshmallow with back sup port), I took in my surroundings. The place was like no newsroom I had ever seen. It was, well, clean. And organized. And scary... very scary. After a few moments, the office man ager was back. She gave me something to sign that basically gave the newspa per first North American serial rights to my soul if 1 should happen to die while in their employ. At that point, I would have signed up to sing lead in a castra to choir if it meant getting major-mar ket clips in my portfolio. She showed me around, introducing me to various seasoned journalists do ing what seasoned journalists do in a newsroom (clacking away on comput er keyboards, screaming into telephones, making grocery lists, heating up food in the microwave). Then I met the bureau chief. He was a warm, grandfatherly type wearing a power tie and in constant motion. He shook my hand like he was trying to pry my arm loose from my shoulder. Being the arrogant schmuck that I am, I expected him to dump six dead lines in my lap and tell me the future of the newspaper was dependant upon my brilliance in clacking away on comput er keyboards, screaming into telephones and heating up food in the microwave (on an intern’s salary, you don’t make grocery lists; you buy whatever is “three for a dollar” and like it). Instead, he told me my first day was going to be an easy one. A week later, I discerned that “your first day is going to be an easy one” roughly translates in to: “At the end of your internship we fully expect you to know how to turn on a computer and sit there.” Oh, but I was wrong. And joyously so. Hopefully, in the next few weeks I’ll be able to reveal all of the juicy de tails. But right now you’ll have to ex cuse me. I have to heat up something in the microwave. West Coast frames.... New York Brands Too! are available in Columbia al FOIMNE VISION CENTERS Downtown Cohjmbn Mokn Plaza Taylor at Pickens St. Nea Hootgan's Det 779-7783 7900902 J "IT'S STILL A REPRESENTATIVE FORM OF (fOVERlJMEKT-TTIET'REPRGFNT US” Social Issues Student Media -i WWamccodt — - - .. Coliseum tunnel renovations met with vandafsm let your voice be heard. Summertime and the living is hectic... well, for most anyway Being per sonally in experi enced in the area of summer school, I am still unsure of how to deal with life during the summer. Since each summer class consolidates a semester’s worth of material into about a quar ter of the time, is it necessary to consolidate four times the study Pete Johnson is a journalism senior and Viewpoints Editor. He can be reached at game cockviewpoints ©hotmail.com time, along with four times the hours working a job, four times the amount of being lazy and four times the fun? It seems to me that most of my friends who are taking summer classes employ this formula. A typical sum mer schedule includes a class (if you are lucky enough to be taking only one) for two and a half hours on Monday through Thursday, working for the 6 hours after class, sitting around the apartment for a few hours to recover from the long day, then either renting or going to see a movie, or going out drinking. Whichever it might be, students wear themselves thin thinking they can han dle overloading themselves with all of this work while running around in 100 degree heat all day. It seems that life dur ing the summertime generally falls in to the same consolidation tactics that professors use for summer classes. Those of us who aren’t used to a hec tic summer schedule just get caught up trying not to bum out. Now, usually I forgo most of the readings for my classes in favor of slacking off. It’s not a decision I make; it’s one I don’t make because I am too lazy to manage my time well. However, in a class like Modem ization of China and Japan, especially in summer school, if you don’t read, you fail. Therefore, I have found myself ac tually cracking open those textbooks on which I’ve spent my parents’ hard-earned money and doing some reading. But rather than schoolwork taking away from my lazy time to lounge around my apartment not doing much of any thing, I have foregone the hunt for a sec ond job (actually, a third job if you count The Gamecock.) Once again, it isn’t a decision that I have made, just one that I have neglected to make. You see, after working in retail for God knows how long, I have promised myself that I will deal with customers no longer. Human contact is nice and all, but customers just get so annoying after awhile. Lets face it; I’m in denial. I think that a nice, cushy job is going to fall in my lap and give me the hours that I can work without too much of a hassle. All the while, they will be paying me $8 an hour to do something enjoyable, like watching baseball or untying swimsuit models’ bikini strings. In a perfect world, I would have my way, but there is no such thing as a perfect world. ^naiiu» die uidi 1 win buccuuiu iu the fadt that my bank account is rapid ly dwindling and be forced to deal with the masses in retail once again. It’s amaz ing that, with all of the jobs available in the ever-growing market, I can’t even think off one that I would like to have. Not that it matters anyway, because I haven’t even had the time to look late ly, with all reading for class and general slacking of I feel required to do. I pity and admire those who juggle their schedules successfully. I wish I had the ambition to keep up with them. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have 847 pages of reading to do and a nap to take.