Opinion

The Paper Cup Demise

-Tamara Feingold

There’s something about holding that venti-sized paper cup with a cardboard sleeve that I just can’t get enough of.

I’m not going to lie, I texted about five friends in panic when Starbucks updated its cup design last March without warning me. Needless to say, I’m a drip coffee with a little bit of half-and-half and Splenda connoisseur and there’s nothing that says “I’m ready for class” like a good strong cup o’ joe. It’s the last dirty little un-environmentally-friendly habit I’ve hung on to. I ride my bike, don’t use paper towels, and carry reusable grocery bags. I judge people with Hummers.

But when I walked into The Buzz coffeehouse on campus a couple of weeks ago, my usual twenty-ounce drip coffee was $2.75. A little steep for a black cup of java, right? Right. That’s because The Fishbowl, The Buzz, and Union Market have all adopted a new pricing plan:

Use a disposable paper cup: You pay the beverage price plus 50 cents

Use a reusable mug: You pay the beverage price minus 50 cents

As attached as I am to that status symbol of steaming joy, this new payment plan is irresistibly sensible. The concept, which is the result of a recent contest hosted in the EMU called Fifty for Five Thousand, includes all profits from the paper cup tax returning to future sustainability projects.

For those of you hoping to save some money without carting a travel mug around campus all day, fear not. There’s an Adopt-a-Mug program allowing students to use a mug stocked by the coffee shop.

What’s so wrong with an occasional paper cup of coffee, you ask? Usually, the coffee cups aren’t made from recycled paper and the plastic coating that keeps your beverage warm also means it ends up in a landfill. According to the Environment Action Association, Americans consume about 400 million cups of coffee per day, which is disturbingly comedic.

If nothing else can get to poor college students, it’s a raise in prices. Especially in coffee, which I consider to be vital to the finals/no sleep/early classes experience that is the University of Oregon.

For that reason, as I sit in The Buzz listening to The Black Keys I’m sipping out of my brand new, twelve ounce, stainless steel with a screw lid and mug full of piping hot coffee. And if I, a diehard daily paper cup fiend, can switch over, so can the rest of Eugene.

NOTE: 12 OZ coffee mug not recommended for true coffee drinkers. What was I thinking? Someone get me a 20 OZ for my birthday.

My Three Favorite Shows are Going Away and I’m Not Sad About it

-Eder Campuzano

Remember when The Simpsons was funny?

I sure do. Before the show relied on musical interludes and awkward sight gags to coax chuckles out of its audience, it absolutely shined with witty dialogue and inane situational humor. You know, stuff that literally made you laugh out loud.

Time hasn’t been kind to the citizens of Springfield, which is why I’m kind of glad the folks at 30 Rockefeller Center; Pawnee, Indiana; and Greendale Community College won’t suffer the same fate.

In case you haven’t heard, last week NBC renewed 30 Rock, Parks and Recreation, and—my personal favorite—Community for the 2012-2013 television season. Then it’s one final curtain call for Liz Lemon, Leslie Knope, and Jeff Winger.

And you know what? I’m not too sad about it.

Yes, it would be amazing to get a few more quality years from these series. But do we really want to see each of these standout shows slowly and steadily decline in quality like their yellow-skinned, animated counterparts (or even their Thursday night NBC contemporary, which has already suffered the loss of Steve Carrell and loses James Spader and Rainn Wilson next year)?

Naw, I’m good.

I’d rather remember these three shows as they were, before their primary writing staffs leave to pursue other projects or their best actors do the same. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m secretly glad Arrested Development lasted as long as it did and not a season more.
Things grew a bit stale after the first few episodes of the show’s third season. And when creator Mitch Hurwitz heard about Fox’s decision to cancel, the way his writing staff worked it into scripts was nothing short of magic. S.O.B.s, anyone?

Who knows where the Bluths would be today if the show were still on the air. I think we’re better off without the knowledge.

Besides, it’s not like cancellation will stop people like Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, or the ensemble cast of Community from creating more quality content. Remember Freaks and Geeks, the quirky sitcom about a bunch of high school outcasts? That obscure, one-season gem produced some of the hardest-working people in the business today.
From actors Seth Rogen and Jason Segel to executive producer Judd Apatow, I’d say those folks are doing pretty well for themselves. By the way, how long do you think it’ll be until James Franco solves the planet’s energy woes?

Even Arrested Development is coming back for a final season and a movie. I’m remaining cautiously optimistic about it. I just hope we get closure on that whole GOB and Anne thing (I know what you’re thinking: “Who? Her?”).

Call me a downer, but we’re better off saying adios to 30 Rock, Parks, and Community while they’re still in their prime. It’s better than watching time take its toll on their quality.

Besides, if they became too mainstream, that’s three fewer things hipsters could condescendingly claim knowing about five years from now. And then what would they fill their Netflix instant queues with?

The British predecessors to whatever the hell is on NBC in 2017. That’s what.

The Disappointing Side of Cinco de Mayo

-Mike Munoz

As a college student, there’s not much to dislike about Cinco de Mayo. We get to eat Mexican food and drink cervezas and margaritas all day long if we please, and the Hispanic side of me loves any opportunity to show off my guacamole-making skills. So when Cinco de Mayo came yesterday, I was pretty excited to celebrate. But as the night got off to a start, I found myself hating the “holiday.”

My roommate and I headed to a party over at Ducks Village apartments and were immediately greeted by friends disguised in big mustaches and sombreros. I tried not to think too much of the offensive costumes, and instead decided to chalk it up to the excessive amount of tequila they had been drinking all day. A couple of hours and a few Coronas later, we decided to hit the campus bars, where things were much, much worse.

As I waited in line at Taylors, it seemed as though everyone around us was in costume. It was like Halloween night, except everyone called each other earlier that day and decided they should all dress up as offensive portrayals of Mexicans. The mustaches and sombreros were getting noticeably larger and I couldn’t help but notice that most of the kids in costume were white.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, some decided to leave the sombreros and ponchos at home and instead sported bandanas and fake tattoos, because apparently being a gangster is the same thing as being a Mexican.

The whole night, I waded through a crowd of people in offensive costumes speaking conversations in broken Spanish. Friends were constantly reassuring me that it was all in fun and that I shouldn’t let it get to me, but it was hard to listen when they weren’t the ones having their race made fun of.

Is this really all people think about when it comes to Mexican culture? Booze and gangsters? Because if these are things that are actually a part of our culture, I apparently missed the memo.

I know these offensive Cinco de Mayo shenanigans aren’t limited to Eugene, but it was disappointing to see it in a place I’ve called home for the last 4 years. Not only are these depictions of Mexicans highly offensive, but they reinforce negative stereotypes about an entire race of people. A culture is not a costume, and people need to think of that before they suit up for Cinco de Mayo.

Junior Seau’s Death Forces Us to Look in the Mirror

-Erik Gundersen

No matter what time of the year in the sports world, it is evident in our country NFL football is king. Although exciting playoffs in both the NHL and NBA are underway, any football news takes precedent. A bombshell hit early Wednesday morning with the suspension of linebacker Jonathan Vilma for the entire 2012-2013 season.

Then, breaking news came from Oceanside, California: Junior Seau, one of the greatest defensive players to ever play football, died at the age of 43 in a suspected suicide.

Allegedly, for the second time in a little more than 14 months, an NFL player has taken his own life. Dave Duerson, who had a 10-year NFL career, took his own life last year. He shot himself in the chest after sending a text message to his family saying that he wanted his brain to be studied at the Boston University of School of Medicine. Seau, a far more recognizable figure for our generation, took his life in the same fashion: a gun shot to the chest.

This brought myself and others to start talking about these problems, mainly on Twitter. When will this, and other cases of players suffering long-term damage finally weigh on the conscious of the American people? Is the enjoyment many of us feel on Sunday’s in the fall really worth all of this?

Myles Brown of SLAM Magazine (@mdotbrown) had these remarks: “Lie to yourself, not me. Depression and suicide have been linked to several players with a history of concussions, including NCAA players,” Brown continued, “if you need to deny that to enjoy your Sundays, go for it. But I bet you’ll think twice about putting your kids in harm’s way.”

I doubt football’s popularity will decline, but there has to be a point where viewers start thinking about the players on the field as people.

Last year, former Chicago Bears quarterback Jim McMahon, who has suffered memory loss long after his playing days, along with six other former players filed a lawsuit against the NFL last August for “negligence and intentional misconduct in its response to the headaches, dizziness and dementia that former players have reported.”  The cases have been piling up, and although NFL Commissioner Roger Goddell has unleashed his recent crusade on the New Orleans Saints, the problem is still not solved.

I love football and as a student these last four years, it has given me some of my lasting college memories. The NFL is the most competitive league in professional sports, but now I find myself reevaluating my love for it.

At what point do we reevaluate the fact that our favorite sport is one that leaves so many that play it, as shells of their former selves?

The feel good story of the day was the Tampa Bay Buccaneers signing paralyzed player Eric LeGrand. Bucs coach Greg Schiano was LeGrand’s coach at Rutgers. I saw many of my Facebook friends repost the articles about the signing and comment about how great of a gesture it was.

It was truly a heartwarming gesture on the part of the organization, but I’m sure if you’d ask LeGrand, he’d give it all up just to walk again and live a normal life.

Maybe he will be able to walk again. But would you take a full athletic scholarship and a great public gesture in exchange for the certainty you’d walk again?

But that discussion has its place outside these six hundred or so words.

Jack White Refuses to let Rock and Roll Die

-Mike Munoz

February 2nd 2011 will always stand out as a dark day in history for me, as it will forever mark the day that the White Stripes broke up. The blues-garage-rock duo out of Detroit who restored my faith in rock n’ roll music had officially disbanded after years of bringing rock to an otherwise rock-less world.

If there was one band on my “concerts to see before I die” list, the White Stripes were numbers 1 through 5. The duo was notorious for performing without a set list and always found a way to make more noise than anyone else with nothing more than a guitar and drums. When the two of them cancelled their final leg of the Icky Thump tour, I figured it would be a while before I would get another chance to see them live. Now I knew it would never happen.

For the next few weeks, I dealt with my depression by listening to White Stripes records in a dark room while I cried myself to sleep. I tried to reassure myself at the possibility of seeing White with The Raconteurs or Dead Weather sometime in the near future, but it just wasn’t the same.

Fast forward to January 30th, 2012.

I was casually browsing through music blogs when a headline caught my eye: Jack White was working on a solo album to be released at the end of April, and to make the news even sweeter the single “Love Interruption” had also been released. The news got even better when a string of tour dates were released a few days later which included a headlining slot at this year’s Sasquatch! Music Festival in Washington. Needless to say, I got a ticket.

While I was overwhelmed at the prospect of finally getting to see Jack White perform live, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of music he would be playing. His first single was no doubt an exciting peak into his highly anticipated album, but I couldn’t help but notice it had a bit more of a folksy flare that I was used to seeing from him. Clearly his time in Nashville was having an influence on his music.

My fears were quickly dismissed when Jack performed on SNL. Somewhat predictably, he played “Love Interruption” for his first song, but when Jack came out a second time, he introduced us to his second single “Sixteen Saltines,” and loud, fast in-your-face rock song that reminded me of why I fell in love with White’s music in the first place.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, April 24th was here: the release date of Jack White’s solo album, Blunderbuss. As soon as I woke up I found the album on Spotify and must have listened to it 3 times before finally heading to my first class.

Blunderbuss simply seemed to have it all. Songs like “I Guess I Should Go to Sleep” confirmed my theory of the country influence Nashville has had on Jack, but more than anything, the album seems to pay tribute to White’s love for old school roots rock. White smashes the keys of his piano like Jerry Lee Lewis on “Trash Tongue Talker” and does a fantastic cover of Rudy Toombs’ “I’m Shakin.”

As if all of this wasn’t enough, White decided to promote his new album with a concert and by teaming up with YouTube and Gary Oldman he was able to stream the whole thing live on the internet. I heard rumors that any any song from any of White’s bands would be up for grabs, but I tried not to get my hopes up. These rumors were quickly confirmed when White opened the set with “Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground,” a White Stripes song.

Of the 20 songs performed, 7 of them were from his solo album, 6 were White Stripes songs, 2 were from the Raconteurs and 2 were from the Dead Weather (the other 3 included 2 covers and a collaboration single White did with Danger Mouse).  Overall, the show was a very encouraging glimpse of what we might be able to expect at Sasquatch, but the most promising moment came at the end, when White cranked up the volume and played arguably his most famous song, “Seven Nation Army.”

If you haven’t already guessed from the tone of this article, the term “man-crush” doesn’t fairly express my love for Jack White. Even in his early days, White always dared to be louder and more raw than cookie-cutter pop bands, and even with a new band a more polished sound Jack White continues to pump life back into rock and roll and remind us that there are still talented musicians in the industry.