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2
T ble of Contents
Page 3
December Calendar
Page 4
A Day in the Life of Chuck
Page 8
Men’s Cheerleading
Page 10
Europe’s debt crisis
Page 11
“Chat downs” implemented in airports
nationwide
Page 12
Obama’s plan to reduce student loan debt
Page 13
Libya and gas prices
Page 14
Ken Rucker interview
Page 16
SCAB prepares for Christmas
Page 17
Christmas movie Reviews
Page 18
‘Puss in Boots’ Review
‘Apples & Eve’ Review
Page 19
Thoughts on Politics and Christianity
Thoughts on Santa
Page 20
Owl City photos
December, 2011
Vol. 64, No. 5
Emily Severance
Managing Editor
Rachel Stephens
Assistant Managing Editor for Visuals
Bekah Cvetich
News Editor
Zack Anderson
National/International Editor
Holly McClellan
Arts and Entertainment Editor
Jesse Silk
Sports Editor
Jonathan Bundy
Chief Copy Editor
Joe Grom, Doug Brown
Web Developers
Jeff Gilbert
Faculty Adviser
Just Sayin’ ...
Bekah Cvetich
C
hristmas is coming
up so I feel the need
to point out some-
thing about the holiday
that must be stated: Santa
is a total creeper. He sees
you when you’re sleeping
… he knows when you’re
awake … and he sneaks
down your chimney in
the middle of the night. Why do people like
this guy? I’d be calling the cops and getting my
baseball bat ready for Santa to come, not leav-
ing him cookies!
If anyone knows anything about creepers,
it is definitely me. Because I was a creeper long
before that word became popular. I embodied
the definition of stalker in grade school, and I
am pretty sure everybody knew it at the time
but me.
It all started with me having a crush on
a boy named Nathan Hippenmeyer in fourth
grade. He had a bowl cut, which back then was
like the haircut of the gods. Nick Carter from
the Backstreet Boys had one, so of course I was
immediately attracted to Nathan’s mushroom-
shaped do. But maybe a little too attracted.
I kept after this kid for three full years.
The first year, I drew pictures of me blowing
up and sicking wild tigers on the girl he liked
(because she was not me, of course). I bought
him pizza flavored Goldfish for his birthday,
because I creeped enough to find out his birth-
day and favorite snack food. And this is before
the days of Facebook.
The next two years were the worst. I re-
member I bought the matching bride and
groom Beanie Babies and wrote Mr. and Mrs.
Hippenmeyer in the tags. Then I put them in
glass showcase containers and displayed them
on my shelf next to a purple heart-shaped
frame with his school picture in it … that I used
to dance with to N*SYNC songs.
That’s also when I started writing him
creepy love poems and songs about how much
I was in love with him; I tried to hide them
too. I started writing them from the back of
the book forward and wrote “normal” poems
about school and America in the front so no
one would see the ones about him in the back.
I wrote them all out in my neatest handwrit-
ing in a green spiral-bound notebook, be-
cause I knew green was his favorite color, and
twisted the end of the metal spiral into a heart
at the top; then, the last day of school before
I moved away, I gave the notebook to him at
recess.
While I am sure the sappy poetry and
songs indicating my terrifying obsession with
him scared him enough, nothing could be
worse than the note I wrote to him on the first
page. It explained my feelings for him, and I
confessed the two pieces of information I knew
about him that made me a certified creeper: I
told him that I had memorized both his par-
ents’ license plate numbers. The scary part is
… I still remember them. AET 8840 and AYX
6623. No, I am not still in love with the kid. I
just happen to have a ridiculously good mem-
ory.
Years later, I can look back and laugh at
this, though just writing this makes me scared
of my former self. So I suppose as a child I was
a lot like Santa. The only difference is people
want to give him cookies for his creeping —
people just want to give me restraining orders.
Certified Creeper
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December 2011
