Between Noodle Fest and the dunk tank, Springfest weekend wasn’t much of an average “Day in the Park” for me.

It seemed no one who sang, had fun and sunned Saturday wanted to be anywhere else. But I never thought I would subject myself to the torture of sitting in a fenced cage and allow people to throw baseballs at me for pleasure.

Was it cold? You bet your sweet bippy it was cold. Was it painful? Yes. Was it fun? Ask my sore derriere that one. Was it worth it? Yes.

The Student Association set up the tank to donate money to the DeKalb Pantry/Shelter, which looks out for the well-being of those who can’t quite afford a decent meal and roof over their heads.

Although I was not scheduled to sit in the tank, I thought it was a worthwhile cause. All I had to do was sit and make fun of people who couldn’t hit the target. I told one guy that UCLA, which he had printed on his sweatshirt, was no good, in so many words. The next thing I knew, he hit that target with the force of a Dwight Gooden fastball. I guess my pep talk helped. I called another guy “Wendy,” and that really bolstered his confidence.

But I have to tell you guys it was all in fun. That’s why people had such a good time. It seemed people had put their own cliques and hard feelings aside, and decided to let the fun in the park take precedence.

I have never admitted to having a love affair with the SA, but this was a prime time to forget about business and have a little fun.

The need for festivals such as “Day In The Park” was proven over the weekend. We as students, faculty and administration can get together and have a good time, putting aside the issues of tuition, racism and separatism. I’m sure no one forgot about the problems that exist on campus, but once in awhile you need to set those things aside, step back, and look at those you have to work with in a different light. I think it helps.

Everyone who had a hand in the planning, execution and supervision of the weekend festivities deserves applause.

The University Police showed their presence by maintaining a decent distance between themselves and the crowd. They filtered through the crowds in discreet fashion, keeping their eyes open, but not making people feel like they were being watched.

One dark spot was the accident that occurred on Lincoln Highway, across from the lagoon. I hope the person who was hit is in good shape. The paramedics, police officers and security officials did an outstanding job of handling an accident amidst the snooping of our reporters and photographers and the curiosity of concerned onlookers.

My experience at the First Annual Noodle Fest is a bit strange. I won’t go into the gory details, but I must say it is nice to know you can have hours of unadulterated fun by seeing if your spaghetti is done cooking and ready to be eaten.

A friend of mine, who shall remain nameless in order to avoid embarrassment, told me that you can check the status of your spaghetti by tossing it up to the ceiling and seeing if it sticks. I had never heard of this strange tradition, but how could I doubt such a scientific approach to such an important culinary issue?

After numerous unsuccessful attempts at achieving the art of spaghetti sculpture while battling the force of gravity, our luck changed and we soon found that our fun had turned into a spaghetti extravangza.

We sculpted our own little spaghetti garden right on the ceiling of my friend’s kitchen.

er landlord might not be too happy, but how could anyone resist the temptation?

Now don’t start bringing that maturity thing into the picture. Maturity is a state of mind and I really didn’t care much to think that a 24-year-old shouldn’t be throwing food, let alone onto the ceiling of someone’s kitchen. Sorry, Mom.