Serving the GW Community since 1904

The GW Hatchet


The GW Hatchet

Serving the GW Community since 1904

The GW Hatchet

Draw on Luke’s face and win praise

OK kids, get ready to have some fun. Yes, I know I usually write about dreary, serious and mundane topics, but this installment is going to be completely different. It is going to be wacky.

You see, it all goes back to New Year’s. I was visiting New York City for the huge Times Square ball-dropping madness that usually takes place somewhere around Dec. 31 of every year. It is an experience to remember. If you get the chance to go (or go back), take it. You and 500,000 of your closest friends, dancing in the streets, fireworks, confetti, the works. Remember the Promise Keepers’ rally on the Mall a few years back? Times Square on New Year’s Eve is the same amount of people with the exact opposite moral agenda.

So anyway, upon arriving in the Big Apple, I realized I had forgotten an essential item from my “beauty kit.” But it was no problem, I simply bought some more lipstick.

But it was THEN that I realized I had no razor. Horror of horrors! I would have to go without the ritual morning shave until I could get out of New York and back to civilization.

Now, at first, I objected to the stubble that was accumulating on my chin. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I slave in front of the mirror every morning, but I do enjoy being generally presentable. So when I began looking in the mirror and thinking “Howdy, ma’am. Wouldja like fer me to fill ‘er up with reg’lr or unleaded? Howsabout I check the oil?” I became concerned.

But as time progressed, it began to look more and more like an actual beard. It also began to itch more and more like a piece of sandpaper. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep my hands off of it. Not only was I starting to look like Grizzly Adams, I was acting a bit strange as well. The constant itching and scratching of my face was definitely leading some people to question my mental health.

The other problem with growing a beard is that it doesn’t always work where its supposed to. I have been lucky – I have a small bald spot under my chin, but otherwise, I’m well on my way to being a full-fledged “beard-o.”

You may be thinking “Big deal, who gives a rat’s rump about this guy and his stupid face?” As a matter of fact, I am positive that you are thinking those exact words. But in addition to being a bold statement about my support of the bearded lifestyle, it has opened up an entire world of new employment opportunities for me. No longer will I be turned away down at the docks. With a beard, I automatically qualify for gainful employment in the commercial fishing industry. And with my flannel shirt firmly fastened, the logging business so essential to the Pacific Northwest is a definite possibility after graduation.

So this is where you come in, gentle reader.

As you can see, this column always features two things: 1. a desperate attempt at humor, and 2. a fairly comical picture of myself (probably the funnier part). Now, I have received several comments on my photo. The biggest compliment was a friend who (under fear of offending me) said it was “OK.” But my grandmother, who never pulls any punches, sent me a photocopy of the picture with an arrow pointing at my hair and asking why The Hatchet requested I wear a rodent on my head while photographing me.

I’m asking the massive readership of this paper to draw me a beard. That’s right, get out your pens and stop paying attention to the professor at the front of the room. Draw me a beard . or anything you please. An eye patch, perhaps (Arrgghh, matey). Whatever you desire, my face is your blank canvas. Hell, grab another six copies of The Hatchet and turn me into each one of the seven dwarves. It’ll be fun – or at least time consuming.

And if it turns out you think one of them is especially good, then hand it in. Put it in an envelope, write “Luke’s Picture” on it, and drop it off over at The Hatchet office (2140 G St.).

Now, I’m hoping we’ll get at least one entry – when I announce that the prize is a free ham.

OK, no free ham. But how about we replace my regular picture with the best “re-done” photo in two weeks. Enter as many times as you like. You have until Feb. 10 to submit your masterpieces. Be sure to include your name so that I can give you ample credit. And as always, void where prohibited.

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