Overview   Publishing   Creative Works     'Til the End   WWW	'Til the End God's first statement after completing his Creation was: "You have got to be kidding me." It's my favorite quote, cynical bastard that I am, and I remember the first night that I thought of it. I was on a hilltop, perched on piece of playground equipment, watching lightning stroke the midnight horizon. Rain drizzled and the wind transformed that otherwise stagnant hill into a sea of rippling grass. I try not to remember why I was there. I had contemplated slitting my wrists a few years before that night, but the faith and love of my family led me to the ultimate decision that it would be selfish to take my own life, to let others suffer for my cowardice. And now I was wondering if I had made the right decision. In the passing time, I had lost a grandfather and one of my post precious friendships. I was constantly ridiculed by my peers. I lived, praying that each day would soon be over, but hoping it would never end because I could not bear facing a new one. I'm not sure what I was expecting up on that hill. Perhaps a visitation from a guardian angel or words of wisdom spoken by a deep, disembodied voice. But the angel never appeared and I never heard the voice. Just the fading footsteps of a passing jogger. So I was left to make the decision on my own. It's quite obvious what I finally decided, for a year later I found myself on another hilltop upon which I would roost for the next four years. Again, as a timid freshman, I found myself caught in the same paradoxical state, but I endured and eventually found a few places to fit in. One was a dwindling house considered to be the backwash of college life. The other was a flailing, college newspaper. Both of which I eventually had the privilege to help lead. It's difficult being a co-editor. I have personally felt responsible for every misspelling, grammatical error, misplaced continuation, undelivered paper, erroneous fact, missed appointment, and unanswered phone message; even though I know I could not have prevented the mistake. It's quite a burden to endure, and I challenge anyone out there to try it out. For those who condemn the editors for carelessness, I ask that you sacrifice a Wednesday night at Campus Pizza or a night of homework to sit down and scrutinize our pages. Everyone who has volunteered just to copy edit has turned to a page during the following Friday, noticed an error that they missed, and realized it's not quite as simple as they once thought. The editors and weekly writers of this paper have a sense of dedication and responsibility that a majority of Lafayette students lack. How many of you have asked for an extension on a paper or a lab report? The editors and writers have no such liberty. Wednesday night is it; if the page isn't done or the article isn't finished, it doesn't go in. Yet somehow, for two semesters, the editors managed to put out a paper almost every week. It's a challenge that most students are unwilling to endure. Despite my pride and sense of accomplishment that has spawned from working at The Lafayette and as president of Kirby House, I will not miss them. Nor, despite what others insist, will I miss Lafayette. They have been an incredible four years of experience and learning and I will look back on them fondly, but I pity those who believe these are the best years of their life. For most of us, we're going to be alive for another half-century. It'd be a shame to waste the time mourning the passage of four, short years of youth. Despite my lack of sentimentality, there is one memory that will probably stay with me forever. It happened late Tuesday night. I trekked over to The Lafayette office to print a paper and, lo and behold, Aaron Snyder was there, hunched over his last "Nobody Asked, But..." article, diligently picking his way through it, making sure it was absolutely perfect. Of all the editors and writers we have had at this paper, I have never seen anyone more dedicated or concerned about its welfare . . . including myself. "Still here, huh?" I quipped. "Yeah, I'm here, 'til the end," he laughed. Aren't we all, I thought bitterly, but later that night, as I started this editorial, I looked back at all of the challenges I had faced, all of the obstacles I had overcome, and I couldn't see any reason to be bitter. So I guess that's what it's all about. Dedicating yourself to face the challenges and endure the hardships that are constantly hurled at you. It gives life meaning, it gives us a sense of accomplishment. Both of which, as far as I know, is the key to a happy, prosperous life. So, it looks like I'm here 'til the end, too. Strange that I'm so certain of that now, considering that I wasn't so sure about it when I was perched on that hilltop so long ago. I revisit the hill occasionally, usually in my dreams. I find myself on that old piece of playground equipment, except this time there's an elderly gentleman there, protected from the drizzle in a yellow raincoat. We talk about life for awhile, comparing our experiences. Eventually I argue that there is no point to our achievements and happiness. After all, the ultimate reward is death. At this point, he turns to me, winks, and smiles. "You have got to be kidding me," he finally says, then disappears into the rain. Michael D. Hilborn May 6, 1994
Mind 'Scapes, its pages and contents are © 1998 by Michael D. Hilborn, President of the Biggles 2000 Time-Dimensional Corporation. You are free to copy and use the original artwork on these pages, although I would appreciate it if you ask me first.