The Eighth Page

Nughes and Feechers

Commentary, without a doubt, is the hottest section of The Phillipian (In more ways than one: holla to our associates Cassie Tognoni ’05 and Jane Herzeca ’05, Beecher loves you. And Tyler Hill ’05 – Alanna says she will never forget the romantic nights you shared “laying out the page” in the photo room). Every week, students eagerly flip to our pages to read Palmer’s latest dispatch from Havana, Kapor’s sometimes (well, always) incoherent columns, and Jami’s uplifting assortment of articles and comics—he is a regular welcome wagon to Andover. Wait, who are we kidding? We may have “SKIN” beat for total audience, but we are still waiting for our elusive tenth reader. (No, not the Dean of Students, who scours our section weekly for inappropriate material). You, skinny Rockwell boy with frizzy hair and bad acne: we know you’re out there. Stop fronting like you don’t read us and come closer, little boy. Yeeesss. Typical night in the newsroom’s Commentary section: 8:15 p.m. “Alanna! Jeremy!” Clem screams. “Why is ‘Runteldat’ your headline, and why do all your comics feature talking flies?” “O.K., Clem, we will change that.” 8:25 p.m. Commentary Section food run to Ryley. Saidi joins. 8:45 p.m. Phone rings—Palmer is calling. “Palmer, talk to us, baby.” “Alanna, Jeremy, greetings on this 12th night of the near-vernal equinox. I solicit thee with a modest salutation: On this 21st day of January, the year of our Lord Two Thousand and Four, eight hours past the midday meridian, I electronically transmitted my most recent work from my word processing apparatus to your communications system.” “Yeah, Palmer, we got it.” [Click] 8:50 p.m. Alanna spills her fries on the floor. Someone needs to clean it up. Beecher offers help. “Ahem, Jane?” (At least associates are good for something). 9:05 p.m. Alanna and Jeremy go to Ryley for “The Real World”, leaving Cassie and Jane to edit at their preferred rate of one article every five nights. 9:35 p.m. Alanna and Jeremy return and collapse on the couch for lengthy foot massage courtesy of The Phillipian’s foot massage machine. (Yes, The Phillipian does, in fact, own a foot massager, altruistically purchased by Fan Wang ’04.) 9:57 p.m. “Cassie! Jane! Are you working?” “Of course we are.” (Giggling) “Don’t make us get the hose!” Beecher threatens. “Beecher, we are not having a wet T-shirt contest…tonight!” Alanna warns. There is much work to be done; these festivities are postponed. “Oh well.” Beecher, undeterred, waits for Alanna to turn around before scrawling his extension on the associates’ hands with a Sharpie. 10 p.m. Editorial meeting begins. 10:05 p.m. Alanna wakes from slumber on couch after Steve’s prodding with a broom handle; Beecher stops attacking St. Louis. (Wussy arts editors…) Commentary editors depart for Sushi Inaka. 10:50 p.m. Editors return from sushi run. Meeting is ongoing. “What’s the editorial this week?” we ask. Clem: “Undecided. Who wants to write it?” Alanna and Jeremy: “NOSE GAME!!!!” Olivia loses and scratches her head in frustration. “Any ideas for us?” the rest of the board pleads, but Commentary has already departed for WPAA to eat its California rolls, away from the prying hands of certain editors. 11:01 p.m. “O.K., we really have to leave now,” Cassie and Jane beg. “Beecher… just let them go… they’ll be back tomorrow night.” Beecher reluctantly releases their UGG-encased ankles and picks himself off the floor. 11:05 p.m. Tyler departs after Alanna begs him “just to stay a little longer, my love.” He has none of this and flatly brushes off her flattery that he is “the best (associate editor) she’s ever had.” After drying their tears, Alanna and Jeremy realize they are stuck with each other, and sit down to begin work. 11:08 p.m. Alanna and Jeremy begin 45 minutes of intense Slime Volleyball action. 11:55 p.m. “Alanna! Jeremy!” Clem once again shouts. “Why is ‘Runteldat’ still your headline, and why do all your comics still feature talking flies?” “This is a tough business, Clem,” Beecher replies. “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen. Leave this one to the experts.” CXXVI: It’s been fun. Dr. Beavertrap, keep your head down. C-Bids, keep your posture straight. Our final advice, the greatest of many lessons learned over a year on the nation’s oldest high school paper: Don’t allow Chinese food to sit on the floor for longer than 3 weeks. And at all costs, don’t believe, as Beecher did, that “Dude, the microwave will, like, kill all the germs bro.”