Editorial cartoons by Sophmore Honors

Texting and Driving by Sophie Roux

              Texting seems to be one of the most fun and social activities you can do to stay connected with friends. Pair it with driving, though, and you could be placing yourself in one of the most deadly situations. Your brain can only think about one thought at a time, and if you’re focusing on talking to your best friend, it will take your focus away from the road completely. This is becoming a growing issue with the new tech-savvy generation. A new statistic from massachusettsduilawyerblog.com is saying that texting while driving is as dangerous, if not more, than driving while intoxicated. There are definite ways to prevent a crash due to texting while driving, and the simplest one is just putting your phone away.

            Almost 50% of teens admit to trying to perform this dangerous task, according to textecution.com. It is easy to find those people who drive with their knees, have people steer for them, or text at red lights. Think of how distracted you can become. Even sending a quick message while periodically peering at the road can make you swerve or speed up and not see an oncoming car or person. Many objects come into your line of vision while driving, but your phone shouldn’t be one of them.

            The one piece of information people need to take into consideration is what you care more about: telling your friend about what you did last night or getting somewhere alive. They would be much sadder to find you in a deadly crash than for you not to answer them. One of the biggest issues is temptation. Put it on silent, and put it in your backseat. If you absolutely have to answer the person, pull over where you can give it your full attention. Make your car a no phone zone. Your friends might even look up to you when they notice you are making a safe decision. Just think of how happy they will be when you arrive at their house, completely safe.

Superstition or a habit? by Brendan Cytulik

On my hockey team there is a weird seating arrangement but more of a superstition than a seating arrangement. When you walk into the room there is a bench on the right wall that can fit five people, there is a bench on the front wall that can fit 5 people, there is a bench that can fit 5 people on the left wall, and finally there is a bench on the back wall that can fit 3 people and we call it the goalie bench because me and the other goalie always sit there and one other person sits with us. Every game and practice the team always sit in the same spot and this has been happening for 4 years now so I don’t know if it is a superstition or a habit. There is also a superstition that if you don’t get dressed left to right or right to left you will have a bad game. Every game we listen to a song that no one knows the name too. On the persons I pod we use we call it pre game. We also listen to Herb Brooks inspirational speech that he said before team USA played the Russians in Lake Placid. 

Every time I step into the locker room I can see the wet rubber and smell the stench from the hockey equipment. Once a week we go to the gym together and do a certain amount of workouts in a certain order that isn’t really a superstition but more of a habit. We also watch tape once a week to see what we can improve on and to see how our next opponent plays. We pay attention to the sweet buttery popcorn more than we do the film, which is kind of awkward, but we get done what we have too. After every game if we win we play the song "Run This Town" by Jay-Z and Rhianna but we don’t know why.  Every game we go out of the locker room and on the ice in a certain order and 2 people stand by the door taping of us as we hit the ice. I love my teammates and I would do anything for them because they’re family to me.

A Normal Day (creative writing of the future)

            I came home from work, tired and stressed. I threw off my Michael Kors heels and collapsed on my beige leather Ethan Allen sofa. I closed my eyes, and could smell the warm coffee that my husband was making me in our spacious kitchen. He was tall, had dark hair, jet black eyes and was tan. He had big muscles, which made his hugs the best. We met in college. From the beginning, I knew he was the one for me. We spent long nights talking on the phone and had everything in common. He had traditional parents like mine. He grew up in the suburbs, like me. We both enjoyed the arts, and we were open minded. We were perfect together.

            It was a cool night, about seventy-nine degrees. That was the coolest we’ve had for weeks. There was a heat wave, and we didn’t know how long it would last. Tonight was special, it was a treat, a diamond in a pile of mud.

            I suddenly stood up, and let my feet lead me to my balcony. I saw the beautiful city of Rio, and saw the lit up Corco Bado and felt at home, at peace. After being at an astronomy lab all day, having meeting after meeting, I felt calm. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. Ever since I was in third grade, I wanted to study science. Even with that, I needed a break from reality. Rio was my escape. In all of my thirty years, I had never seen anything more beautiful.

            As a child, I always wanted children, but as I got older, I found that to be irrelevant. Having nephews back in the U.S was enough. My brother, Diego, went on to have a successful drumming career. He became one of the most famous drummers of the century. He currently lives with three boys and a beautiful actress in his Beverly Hills mansion. Honestly, I have never seen him so happy. After graduating from Berklee College of Music, he was booked for a world tour, and from there it was history.

      

My neighborhood by Brendan Cytulik

          Hallett Road.  Where you maybe see five cars a day. Only the cars of people who live there, and an occasional car of someone lost.  There are seven houses on Hallett road.  The bluish-greenish one, the yellow one, which is mine, the red one, the tan one, the light blue one, and the one I can never really tell the color of.  Seven houses, fourteen people split between them, some normal and some not so normal.  There are the Meadows, who I rarely see, then there’s the Welch’s who I see everyday, Donna the big lady on the street whose dad died and left her with the house.  Then the weird lady whose name I can never remember, who is always gardening or walking her rat dog.  Then the rookie on the street who is like a unicorn cause I’ve never seen him.  Then the Bolanes who have lived they’re as long as us and also has son my age that I’ve been a friend with almost my life.  My street looks like a house you would see in 50’s movie all dolled up.  I love my house and I am very grateful for it.  I’ve lived there for almost fifteen years now and I would like to spend the rest of my life in it.