High school sweethearts can make wonderful relationships. They're full of proms, football games and far too many commitments. After dating someone in high school for a considerable amount of time - about three months on a high schooler's calendar - deeply felt commitments begin to surface.
I used to believe that you really could achieve your dreams. You know, when I was seven. Maybe I believed longer than that, but that's when the clouds started moving in. It helps to have a brutally honest mother. I told her I really, really wanted to be an archaeologist.
There's a reason why America's "favorite vice president" hasn't left Washington yet. Yep, Dick Cheney's still hanging around, and he's still defending the reprehensible interrogation techniques that he and his Bush administration colleagues defended time and time again.
I'm a homophobe. Yes, I admit it. I'm a homophobe, and that saddens me. I've always claimed that I'm not homophobic, that my aversion to homosexuality comes only from my belief in Scripture. However, after some soul-searching, I realize I haven't been entirely honest with myself.
Living wage. Virtually everyone in this day and age is familiar with this phrase, whether because of an Economics 101 lecture or because of CNN's nightly news. But what is a living wage? Are there truly advantages to it? And how can Samford students be involved to insure that justice through a living wage is being met for all workers? The definition of a living wage is simple: a wage sufficient for a worker and his or her family to live comfortably without relying on government assistance.
Underclassmen, your Christian faith will be assaulted at Samford, a university with the motto, "for God, for learning, forever." So take the words of Colossians 2:8 to heart: "See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition … and not according to Christ.
I'm not really the nostalgic type. I mean, I'm all for sitting around with friends and discussing fun times, but that's about it. I've never really been Samford's biggest fan. Not that I feel any real antipathy for it. I'm just afflicted by "rampant apathy," to borrow a line from Douglas Adams.
A few weeks ago, I was asked to write an article with my last words for my fellow students here at Samford. It was a surreal moment, and I have been thinking about what to write ever since that moment. There is so much that races through your mind when such a significant chapter in your life is coming to a close.
Another volume of the Crimson has come to a close. It's been a year filled with late nights, caffeine, picas, sentence structure and grammar. It's a sexciting job - believe us. We've also learned that when it's too late at night, we don't notice that little red underline that tells us we've misspelled something.