Residents of Bowling Green were met with a significant amount of snow this weekend, sure to make climate change deniers race home to kiss their fold-out posters of Governor Matt Bevin.
After seeing countless pictures of snow-covered landscapes in my newsfeed, I felt it was my duty to brave these extreme conditions and see how the good people of this city were adapting to what I’m certain historians will one day name the Real Bowling Green Massacre.
Unfortunately, the second I stepped outside, I slipped on some ice and broke every bone in my body. That, on top of my thyroid condition, made me no match for Mother Nature and her handiwork.
So, the following is a series of interviews I think would have happened if I had made it farther than my front door:
The first person I was able to find was former university President Gary Ransdell. He was putting the finishing touches on the blueprint for another extravagant building the university can’t afford. When I tried to tell the man he wasn’t the president of WKU anymore, he promptly screamed “Because I said so!” repeatedly until he chased me away with pages of I.O.U’s he had written out to future WKU students.
After that adventure, I sat down with our beloved mascot Big Red. As we all know, Big Red has never spoken a word. Why, you ask? No one’s ever asked him a question. Once you get him talking, the red blob wouldn’t stop.
As our conversation drew on, I had a startling realization: I was in love with Big Red. He revealed to me his secret fantasy of being the first university mascot to sail around the world. I decided that I was going to make that dream a reality. Using the remaining money in the Herald’s budget, I took Big Red out on the seas to fulfill his destiny. We’ve been together ever since.
Soon after, I was able to track down the guy who sends out the university mobile alert notifications to see how the inclement weather was affecting his job. Unfortunately, when I approached him, he thought I was trying to pull a gun on him. I was quickly apprehended by the local authorities and detained until he sent out an alert correcting the mistake.
Upon being released from prison, I hustled up the hill for a meeting with the Department Head of Modern Languages. That is, until I found out the meeting wasn’t required. So I decided to just mess around and get some coffee instead.
Settling down into a comfortable couch at the Starbucks DSU, I ran into current university President Timothy Caboni. When I asked him why he made the decision to take thousands of dollars from the Herald’s budget, he pretended like he didn’t hear me and tried to swap out my shirt for one he was conveniently carrying already.
I continued to press him on why he still chose to continue to sue our student publication after we made public records requests into faculty sexual misconduct. Just as he was about to respond, I heard something in the distance calling my name: it was fate. Big Red had returned. We boarded the spaceship he had built with his own red hands and explored the far reaches of the Milky Way Galaxy.
All in all, not my worst day as opinion editor of the College Heights Herald.
Well, there you have it. It turns out, everyone still has the same problems regardless of the weather. That’s a life message I think we can all learn to embrace.