Thursday, May 21, 1998
Real bruins north
By Michelle Navarro
Daily Bruin Senior Staff
A’s. On the south side they are about as rare as a well-paying
job on campus. Yet one student saw two in the span of just one
morning.
Don’t faint from amazement yet. There’s one bit of information
that needs to be disclosed.
Tim Watson belongs to that place across the Ackerman border
where the grass is always greener and the butterflies may actually
be seen. Watson belongs to north campus.
"North campus is more sociable because there are more eateries,"
he said. "There are more areas where people can congregate, sit
down and do nothing."
However, doing nothing wasn’t what his day was all about.
This particular day, the third-year history student’s morning
began long after the birds had gotten up and long after the coffee
hounds had left their sanctuaries in Kerckhoff and Lu Valle.
Yes, the sun was already shining in all its glory when Watson
hobbled up the stairs to his first 11 a.m. class, History 117.
Sheepishly, Watson explained the reason for his limp.
"I was at a frat party," he said. "Unfortunately it happened
before I started drinking."
Apparently while walking down a flight of stairs at the party,
Watson’s eyes missed a step. The small blunder sent him crashing to
the floor, spraining his ankle in the process. He said his only
consolation was that he was holding two beers.
In class, about 20 students were present in a lecture hall big
enough to seat over 60.
"There are really more people in the class but I guess they
decided not to show," joked Watson.
A friend sitting next to him noticed the missing crutches. She
asked if the doctor had authorized the change. The San Clemente
native gave a grin and replied that his doctor had no idea that he
decided to forgo the crutches.
Right on the dot the professor walked into the lecture hall,
clad in a snazzy gray suit. He removed his coat, rolled up his
sleeves and got down and dirty into the lecture.
Some say subjects like organic chemistry have their own
language. The same could be said about history. To the
unenlightened ear, a lecture about Germanic peoples and the Bulgars
might as well have been in Latin. What was refreshing, however, was
that the professor actually had inflection in his voice.
Watson chose to major in history because of its flexibility.
"What I was most interested in was the fact that history
encompasses everything," he said. "You can study the history of
science, politics … if I were to decide to study something else I
could easily segue into it."
After class, Watson picked up his midterm and chatted with the
professor, who also happens to be the advisor for his honors
thesis. He would return later that day to discuss it in more detail
during office hours.
On the way to the next class, he flashed his grade – A.
In his Egyptian civilization course, Watson sat by an old
roommate. The old friend also noticed the loss of his crutches and
asked if it was okay for him to go without. Again the answer was in
the negative.
Amazingly the class began with the professor handing back their
midterms.
"Damn last name," mumbled Watson as he sat back down with his
midterm after waiting until the end of the stack to receive
his.
For the second time, the midterm boasted a bright red "A" on the
last page.
But wait, it gets even better. As the professor paced up and
down the stage, talking about the exam, he revealed the
distribution of grades.
Get this, only one D, and a couple of C’s. The major bulk were
A’s and B’s.
"In general, we were rather generous," the professor
explained.
No wonder the midterms were handed out at the beginning of the
class. They didn’t have to worry about anyone crying in agony
during the lecture.
At about 2:45 p.m., Watson hobbled on over to the Sunset
Recreation Center to swim some laps. He used to run for his
exercise, but recently his roommate lured him into the realm of
goggles and chlorine.
The water polo team occupied one of the pools, so the other was
more crowded than usual. Watson peeled off his shirt, revealing an
armband tattoo he got for $200 last quarter, and hopped in the
water.
Before his laps, he informed the man in the adjacent lane of his
inexperience.
"If I come over into your lane," Watson told him, "just shove me
to the side."
Back and forth he swam, until about 15 minutes had passed. Over
at the smaller pool, he proceeded to do "egg beaters."
"You make an eggbeater motion with your legs," he explained. "It
helps keep you afloat without using your arms."
Only his head, swaying to the left and right, and clenched fists
could be seen above the surface of the water as he moved across the
pool.
Upon completing his aquatic workout, Watson trekked on back,
scurrying across Gayley, to his apartment on Glenrock Avenue. When
he opened the door, he found a roommate playing Nintendo who
laughed that living with Watson was an "adventure."
Later that night, Watson ascended the stairs to Ackerman
Union.
Up in the Grand Ballroom, heads bobbed up and down, legs kicked
from under skirts and hands shook in the air. Everywhere there were
men dressed in suits and suspenders and girls who resembled Betty
Grable.
It was Swing Night and the crowd was having fun. Who would have
known that a minute away there was a protest still going on in
Royce Hall?
Unfortunately for Watson, a sprained foot doesn’t do too well on
the dance floor. So the north campus student sat by the speakers,
listening to the orchestra play the tunes, knowing all along that
there was a paper waiting for him back at the apartment.
GENEVIEVE LIANG/Daily Bruin
Tim Watson loves to swim between classes.