Below are some student illustration themes that, themselves, illustrate the variety of this type of theme. Notice how each writer takes advantage of the basic theme structure. Rick Waddle unifies his story with repetition, opens with an eye-catching statement, and keeps our interest with a good mix of dialogue and description. Bob Cassell uses a very tight organization to keep us focused on his thesis that it is accidents that often lead to discoveries. Look at how the other writers keep you interesting in their story by the way that they write as much as what they write about.
The Cheeseburger
By: Rick Waddle
October is the worst month of the year! It seems all the kooks come out, and everyone’s problems intensify. With all the beautiful reds and golds of the autumn foliage, it’s hard to imagine why. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s the time of costume clad Halloween trick-or-treaters or the change from warm temperate days to brisk chilly nights. Who knows? It may be just an inherent problem associated with the month itself.
In mid-October the phone rang around 3:00 AM. A call at this hour usually means trouble. As I sat in the darkness of my bedroom, cradling the receiver to my ear, I listened. My cousin Willa was in crisis.
Just a few weeks ago I sat with the sisters at the reading of their mother’s will. Mint green pants suit, early fifties, coifed red hair, pale folded hands, back straight against the chair, Willa listened, as all her mother’s worldly goods were divided. Sue was in her mid forties, mussed red mop, clashing orange peasant blouse, gaudy jewelry, and broke. A small amount of cash and property was left between them.
Over the phone, Willa told of Sue’s accusations about not getting her fair share. My being present at the reading of the will, I knew this not to be true, but with Willa being soft hearted, I knew she would eventually give Sue whatever she wanted.
“I know mom wouldn’t let her go without, if she were living,” said Willa, “But I can’t afford to give her anymore. I bought Sue’s share of the property from her with my share of the money plus borrowed more because she said she needed the cash. Today, she called and said they’re going to shut off her utilities and evict her if I don’t give her more money.”
I had tried once before telling Willa what to do once without success, although I’m sure I nearly offended her when I did. Now, sleep deprived, I tried to think of how to put it in perspective so she could see a solution and yet make her own decision. I started, “If you scraped together all your money and using your last cent, was only able to buy one cheeseburger, then divided that cheeseburger equally and gave each child their very own piece, would that be fair to each of them?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, “I guess it would. But what’s that got to do with this?”
Not pausing to answer her question I continued, “And what if one of your children were extra hungry? They gobbled down their half in just a bite or two, while the other nibbled slowly at their cheeseburger portion. Would that be okay with you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I guess so,” speaking more thoughtfully.
“And,” I continued, “If that hungry child whined about not having enough, would you take the contented child’s portion and give it to the one that was hungry?”
“No, that wouldn’t be fair to either of them,” she said. “They both knew that was all there was and they would need to make it last.”
Now she was caught up in the story. “Do you think your mother would do it?” I asked, setting the trap.
“No way!” Willa responded emphatically. “You know mom would have given us the last bite off of her plate, but never take from one and give it to the other.”
Pausing a moment to allow her own words register with her, “Then what makes you think she would want you to give your cheeseburger to your sister now?” I asked.
There were several long minutes of heavy silence as the phone hissed. I waited for Willa to understand fully the implications of my question. When she finally did respond, her voice subdued, she talked and cried about our childhood, her mom and dad, and her sister. Though I could guess, I never asked about her decision. It wasn’t my business.
A few weeks later I ran into her while Christmas shopping. She wore a thin white sweater over a light cotton blouse and blue jeans. To protect her from the season’s icy rains she wore only a windbreaker, draped over her shoulders. I asked about her family and she asked about mine, the normal chit chat.
As we were parting she said, “Sue and I haven’t talked since October. Sue says, ‘We never will again. Ever!’ I hope she’s wrong.” Taking a deep trembling breath to stifle a tear, she added, “I’ve still have some hard decisions left to make and some tall hills to climb. Mom’s not around to help me like before. It’s hard going without her. I’ll probably have to call on you, from time to time.” Filling with resolve, she added, “But, for now, I’m content,” and reciting my own words, “I’m nibbling my Cheeseburger.”
Inventions Aren't Necessarily Invented
If necessity is the mother of invention, pure dumb luck must be the father of invention. I think, the normal process of inventing is the careful thought out reasoning of the situation and what is needed to accomplish a particular objective; some inventions occur naturally and just takes dumb luck for anyone to recognize them.
Many historians agree that yogurt was discovered in Iran or Turkey thousands of years ago. "Yogurt" is from the Turkish language; a loose translation is "soured milk." Through conjecture, historians believe yogurt was invented by accident or dumb luck. Probably, a herdsman noticed his milk had soured and curdled. On inspection he found the thickened milk was very good. Bacteria in the air and heat from the sun or his camel activated the milk to form what we now know as "yogurt."
Brandy was invented by a French wine shipper. Brandy is named for the region in France that it came from. The cost of wine shipped from France to Sweden was enormous. Conscious thinking, led to taking out the water in the wine to lower shipping costs. Dumb luck appears; when arriving in Sweden the instructions for replacing the water are lost. A Swedish wine importer drank the undiluted wine, and "Eureka," Brandy is discovered.
Ivory soap, more dumb luck: the soap mixer at Proctor-Gamble took an overly long lunch and left the soap mixing. The extra mixing incorporated more air than normal in the soap, making it float. The soap mixer, not wanting to be fired or reprimanded, said nothing about the over mixing. When letters and phone calls poured in wanting more of the fabulous soap that floats, management tracked down the reason.
A scientist at Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing (3M), working on adhesives, came up with a new glue. This new glue wasn't very sticky or strong, and a use couldn't be thought of. Several years later a 3M worker tired of using tape to affix his memos used the forgotten glue and dumb luck again: Post It Notes.
Super glue was a carefully worked out invention. The super glue factory workers noticed white fingerprints on everything. This dumb luck led to a new way of detecting fingerprints. Fingerprints were on material that wasn't normally thought to retain fingerprints. The fumes from the glue reacted to the fingerprint oils changing the fingerprint to a very visible white.
Most inventions are developed from a carefully thought reasoning process while other inventions occur naturally or from a coincidental chain of events. You can think and think to invent something, or you can keep your eyes, ears, and nose open for that chance to recognize dumb luck!
— Robert O. Cassell English 101, Fall, 1992
Good Ol' Boys
I recently moved back to the tri-state area after having been gone for twenty years. Since coming home I have run into a new breed of men. Growing up, I don't remember even hearing about one. But suddenly they are everywhere. I am talking about good ol' boys: fun-loving, beer guzzling, ready for anything, kind of guys.
Most of them are blue collar workers. They make a decent living, are somewhat religious, very patriotic, and staunch union men. They work hard, play hard, and drink hard. One guy I know, in particular, seems to embody all the traits of a good ol' boy. I will call him Homer.
Homer is a drinker. His beverage of choice, Budweiser, of course. He starts his day with a few "jars" just to get this eyes open and his body going. It is not unusual for Homer to have downed a six pack before going to work, depending on the shift he is on that week. After work, he meets other GOBs at one of the neighborhood bars, and proceeds to "drink the Cue Clubs clean." Homer doesn't think he has a drinking problem. After all, aside from an occasional drink of whiskey or moonshine, how can he have a problem when all he ever drinks is beer?
Homer likes guns, and rifles, and knives. He has a quite a collection. He proudly displays his guns and rifles in a cabinet in his home. He can and will give you a history of each and every one, as he lovingly runs his hands over the object of his discussion. Homer has even been known to demonstrate the proper use of a handgun or rifle. Just make sure you are outside when he does it.
Homer belongs to many organizations. Men's organizations, such as the Elks - B.P.O.E. (Best People On Earth), the Masons, the Moose, and the Eagles. Also, organizations such as the VFW and the American Legion.
Secret organizations such as the Masons create special bonding for the GOBs. A conversation with a casually met stranger soon begins to sound like a foreign language as they verbally dance around each other, trying to find out if they are "truly brothers."
Homer is a smoker. Marboro (in the red package) or Camel non-filters are the only ones to smoke. Occasionally, Homer tries to quit smoking. When this happens, he substitutes chewing tobacco for cigarettes. Chew and spit, spit and chew. The juices never stop flowing. They flow out the car window, or onto the sidewalk, or perhaps into one of your favorite cups or drinking glasses. If you have ever wondered what that odd smelling, amber colored liquid is floating on the bottom of a cup or glass, chances are ibis the juice of the tobacco leaf.
Homer loves to fight. There is nothing like a good knock-down, drag-out, fight. He likes to "take `em to the hardwood." His favorite expression is "Anybody who hasn't had their ass whipped today step out into the parking lot." He is a street fighter who knows how to handle himself and enjoys proving it to others.
Homer eagerly anticipates deer season. This activity, more than any other, is a combination of all that a good ol' boy enjoys most. Being in the great outdoors with a few of his buddies, the thrill of the hunt, the comfortable feel of his favorite rifle tucked securely under his arm, and the knowledge that a six pack of Bud "sodys" is waiting back at his truck is all he needs to make his day complete. It doesn't get any better than this.
Homer likes his women. He is single and, therefore, free to play the field. He has had several long term relationships, but for whatever reason, they have not worked out. He is currently dating a married woman, and is seeing his second cousin "behind closed doors." Since he feels that neither relationship will ever become permanent, he "owes it to himself" to continue to look around for something better. In the meantime, he might as well "enjoy what is being offered." And you wonder why this guy is still single?
Homer, like many good ol' boys, is an odd mixture of cliches and contradictions. GOBs see nothing wrong in the way they live their lives, yet they have little or no tolerance for anything or anyone different from themselves. Married or single, they are men on the prowl who expect their women to be faithful and loving, patiently waiting for their men to return home. They sometimes act like little boys who never grew up. Spoiled and selfish, they live for their pleasures, never making excuses for what they do or say. And why should they? After all, they are good ol' boys. God bless the good ol' boys. Heaven help the rest of us.
— Debbie Williams, Fall, 1992
There is Power in Your Words
Having gone to church most of my adult years, I have come to know and understand some of the many quotes and sayings from the bible. There is one that particularly stands out in my mind. It always has been first and foremost in most of my thinking every since I learned it. The saying that "There is power in your words" has been seen and proved many times over in the bible and in many other people's lives.
I heard my first sermon on this power by a popular evangelist. He brought out many of the aspects of this finding. Everyone remembers David from the bible who slew the giant, Goliath. The evangelist told of how David first trusted God for the victory over the giant, and then he began to say he had the victory many times over. And, of course, as everyone knows he got the victory, using a sling-shot, a stone, and the power of his words.
The second time I heard about this "power in your words" was through yet another powerful evangelist. I started noticing the strengths and assuredness along with many other good attributes this man had. He not only sermonized about this subject on words, but he built his sermons around the scripture in Mark 11:23 quoting from this verse:
Verily I say unto you that whosoever shall say unto this mountain, be thou removed and cast into the sea; and shall not doubt in his heart but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass he shall have whatsoever he saith.
You couldn't listen to this man or any of the others who taught and preached this without getting your tongue straight.
I started searching this subject for myself. I found not a few scriptures on this subject, but many. In Proverbs 15:4 it says, "A wholesome tongue is a tree of life, but perverseness therein is a breach in the spirit." In first Peter 3:10 it says, "For he that will love life and see good always, let him refrain his tongue from evil and his lips that they speak no guile." In Proverbs 16:24 it says, "Pleasant words are as a honeycomb sweet to the soul, and health to the bones." These are just a few of the many scriptures I came across while searching for the truth in this matter.
I found not only the religious world wanting to understand this principle but others also. I read an account of a doctor who gave speaking treatments. The patients with diseases of all sorts were told to quote positive things to their body and mind. If a patient had diabetes this patient would take about 15 minutes out of the day and speak words such as "my pancreas works perfectly," "I have perfect sugar level," and so forth. Not a few were healed; there were many accounts of people proven to be healed. I think the bible must know about humans and understand many things we need to listen more closely to.
The evangelist that I heard the second time said we are living in nothing more than what we have said in the past. I started listening closer and trying some of these things out. When I started school I kept this subject in mind. I wanted to be sure and keep my words acceptable and to speak good things about my school work. I had a friend in psychology class that I noticed never spoke a positive thing about the class. It was always too hard or too stupid or "I can't understand this." Having started back to school after eighteen years, I'll have to admit it wasn't easy not to agree with her. We both studied hard, never missed class, and always listened closely. The only thing we didn't do alike was speak alike. My first test came back: top five "A" in the class. She got a "D." I thought to myself, "Could this be the power in my words?"
— Pam Boughton, English 101, Spring, 1992
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