Valentine's date? You got it.

Hi, I’m Brendan Hay, an ordinary college student who goes through life just like you. That’s right; I put my pants on like everybody else – one leg at a time. Except, today, I’m no longer Brendan Hay; I’m Brendan Hay the Love Guru. Picture me as the lovey-dovey idea fairy who shoots you with heart-tipped arrows. So, here it goes, ten of my personal favorite groovy date ideas:

Mystery Dinner (group) Date: Have any of you ever done a mystery dinner before? Holy cow, they’re fun to get into! Get a mystery set and plan out all the characters. Send out invites and make sure everyone comes in costume. Stay in character even during the dinner part.

Casino Night (group) Date: Alright guys, think Monte Carlo. Think super formal. Have someone with a house host the event. The couples can get together and play various card games (poker, blackjack, etc.), while sipping their favorite bubbly (non-alcoholic, of course). Oh, and remember, only Badventists gamble.

Classic Date: Here it is; dinner and a movie. But, there’s a twist: make the meal together. Then, afterwards, get cozy and watch a pirated movie on a laptop. What? Did someone say pirated?

Thrift Store Date: This one’s bound to get a lot of laughs. Go to a thrift store and pick out each other’s outfits for the night. Each person has to solemnly swear to wear what the other picks out though! Then, go about your date doing whatever.

Picture Date: First, find a children’s book with lots of pictures. Then, buy a disposable camera. Go through the book, reenacting the scenes as you go about your date, taking pictures with the camera. Afterwards, get the film developed and make an album to commemorate the date.

Stalker Date: For all you freaky people out there, go into town and find some couple who are obviously out on a date. Follow them around and do whatever they do. Just don’t follow them home, or to the projects in Lincoln Park …

Double Date with your Parents: Never mind, that’s just weird.

Park Date: This one oozes with romance, but depends on the weather. Plan a picnic in a park setting. Feed a loaf of bread to some ducks together. Then, find a fountain and take turns tossing in coins, saying your wishes out loud in the presence of your significant other. Caution: hearts may melt.

Deviant Date: A personal favorite. Kick off the evening climbing the fire escape of the Marcus Whitman in downtown Walla Walla. After escaping the police, drive over to Walmart and do every Walmart prank in the book (google Walmart pranks). Finish the date by jumping the gate at the Hampton Inn to use their hot tub, free of charge. If you get caught, tell them Brendan Hay sent you.

Nostalgic Date: Do whatever you loved doing as a kid together. Fly kites, build a puzzle, play a board game together or break out that old-school Nintendo 64. After all that silly goodness, make some macaroni and cheese, build a fort out of chairs, pillows and blankets, and watch “DuckTales the Movie: Treasure of the Lost Lamp” inside. Oh, yeah.

Mix ‘em up: Don’t know which awesome date to pick? Throw all of the above into a paper bag, shake them up and pick one (just hope you don’t pick the double date with your parents).

Chivalry

Katie Currier and I thought it would be interesting to do a little piece on chivalry. Now, you might be wondering why on Earth I’d put something like that on my BackTalk. Well, I happen to like social dynamics, and quite frankly, you should too. It may not be obvious at first, but being chivalrous towards a woman goes way back to the middle ages (you know, knighthood, knightly virtues, honor and all that jazz?). Now that you’ve made the connection between two closely related words (chivalry and knights), I will allow you a brief moment of ascertainment (I had one).

Contrary to popular belief, being chivalrous is not just exclusive to gentlemen showing respect to ladies. It goes both ways. So, to all those feminazis out there, when a man opens a door for you – don’t get angry because what he’s really doing is simply treating another human being with respect – gender aside. Hmm, now what a nice thought! Also, as so many men forget to realize, being chivalrous towards a lady is often found quite attractive. Doing those small, chivalrous deeds is easy. They’re the brownie points of the flirting world! When it comes to chivalry, WWU is on good terms. Katie believes there is a good supply of well-mannered men here (and I’m sure Jon Gienger is one of them). When entering a building, she’s found that a man (if one’s nearby) will almost always hold the door for her.

To finish, I thought it’d be fun to include a few of the lesser-executed acts of chivalry: 1. Men, if you’re sitting at a table with a woman or women, stand up when one arrives or leaves the table. 2. When walking with a woman downtown, take the side closest to the street. 3. If you’re driving a woman home, get out of the car and open her door when you get to her house. It looks super fly, and you’re in a much better position for that goodnight kiss.

While on the topic of chivalry, some of you may have found the content of last week’s page to be provocative in nature. If any of you interpreted it as sexual harassment, I humbly apologize. Brendan Hay is a chivalrous man. He does not sexually harass. It just isn’t chivalrous.

What kind of Adventist are you?

I’m not one for labels or stereotypes, but when it comes to Adventists, there are so many flavors. For those of you I’m about to offend, I’m sorry, but sometimes I really can’t help myself. I do want you to know one thing though: I had a blast creating these terms. WWU, you put a smile on my face. Enjoy.

Badventist: Often looked down upon by other Adventists. Partakes in partying on the weekends and other forms of sinful debauchery (including drinking coffee). Group includes business majors and Steeler fans.

Dadventist: All those upstanding father figures out there. Alex Bryan, Dean Evans, etc.

Fadventist: Obsessed with aesthetics. Generally drives a nice car and has to have the latest iPhone. Also, supports the construction of large, monumental, statue-like structures on Adventist campuses …

Gladventist: Our school might only have three African American professors in a sea of white faculty, but this one Jamaican man has enough enthusiasm to count as twenty. Can I hear an Amen, Pedrito?

Madventist: Generally not so fun to be around. Will often be the first to point wayward souls in the right direction. If things get nasty, they may even split up your church. Yikes!

Padventist: Paddy McCoy.

Radventist: These people reek of awesome. They are generally known to have Brooklyn accents, and will occasionally interrupt large audiences with their creative intellect.

Sadventist: I’m sure you get the idea. Fortunately, there is a cure for Sadventists. Send those poor souls to Berean Fellowship, or inflict them with a little Dr. Tony Campolo. All you need is love, yo.


Best place to make out on campus?

Guys, I love it when you kiss, grope, and fondle; it reassures me that Adventists are actually capable of producing offspring. But, given the latest circumstances, I’ve been pressured by my peers into suggesting a few locations that might turn your public displays of affection into private ones.

The bowels of Rigby, late at night
Why not turn that little escapade into a science experiment? I’ve never seen anybody down there past 8 p.m.

FAC practice rooms
Hey you two! Get a room! Seriously, there’s no easier way. Some of the rooms even come with keys …

President McVay’s Desk
Go to it while he’s on his lunch break! I dare you. Ohhh boy!

My house
For an hourly fee, I might let you use the basement.

Excuse me while I go to a corner and shrivel up into a pile of dust now

Embarrassing moments. Everybody has them. Unfortunately, some of us may be in tune to our embarrassing side a bit more than others. I would argue to say I am one of the unlucky ones. Allow me to illustrate:

There was that time when I was in middle school, and I was on my way to a Youth Rally at the Buena Vista Seventh-day Adventist School in Auburn, Washington. It was a two hour drive, so my bladder was quite delighted when we had finally arrived at our destination. Running into the school, and not thinking which door I was going through, I proceeded into a restroom free of any urinals. For some reason, the mysterious absence of man’s #1 depository failed to grab my attention. I turned to the nearest stall, and no sooner had I gone in, two persons with not-so-masculine voices came into the restroom and located themselves in the neighboring stalls on either side of me. Terrified at what I had just done, I lifted my feet up and stood on the toilet, crouching in the most awkward position possible. The moments that followed were, needless to say, embarrassing.

Or that one time, when I was speaking to a bunch of preteens at Camp MiVoden for church, and was inadvertently stung by a bee. Getting stung by a bee in front of young campers however, wasn’t the embarrassing part; the expletive that reactively escaped from my mouth, was. Some of you reading this may actually have been there, but are recalling that no such utterance ever occurred. Well, it’s quite obvious, at least from my perspective, that your guardian angel was probably plugging your ears.

So, there you have it: a couple of Brendan Hay’s finer moments. Now, should we be ashamed of moments like these? No, I think not. These are the moments when we are in life’s spotlight; these are the moments when we know we’re actually alive (from personal experience, I can say that interrupting a televised sermon in front of two thousand people makes you feel very much alive, sorry, Garrett).

So, treasure those moments, for they are the moments in life that make it worth living.

It's a jungle out there

Think Disney movie. Now, think Disney classic. Just to narrow it down a bit further, think Disney classic with superb music. What are you left with? The “Jungle Book,” of course. As a youngster, the “Jungle Book” was about as entertaining to me as it is for a pyromaniac to flush a chunk of sodium down the toilet. I don’t know if it was because of the songs by the Sherman brothers, or Baloo’s awesome life philosophy, or even the three indecisive vultures (“Now don’t start that again!”). The “Jungle Book” is like fine wine or cheese – it just gets better with age. However, there was one part about the “Jungle Book” that vexed me: the ending. Remember at the end, when Mowgli sees the young girl coming down from the Man-Village? Remember how he leaves his best friends, Baloo and Bagheera, to be with her? I used to get so mad at that scene I would pound my fists into the pillows! It just wasn’t fair, right? I suppose at the time, I just didn’t understand; girls were not yet a part of life’s jigsaw puzzle. But now, I kind of get what Mowgli was thinking ...

Here’s the deal. Guys. We’re all attending a school full of beautiful, intelligent, single women. They come down to the riverbed to fetch the water, but we don’t follow them back to the Man-Village! We’re like a bunch of Mowglies, screwing up the ending to the Jungle Book! C’mon! I was at Vespers last weekend, and I saw a pathetic sight; lots of guys sitting with guys, and even more girls sitting with girls. Please, I understand that our Adventist system separates the sexes from childbirth. I understand that we all went to banquets and not high school dances. I get all of that. But seriously though, biology ought to win over the Adventist conditioning sooner than later! Single guys: I know that somewhere out there, there’s a special lady you have your eye on. Do it. Follow her back to the Man-Village. Translation: take her out on a date! Girls: keep doing what you’re doing; we’ll get it eventually.

In the words of Freddy Mercury, “Play that game of love” (preferably the straight version though). OK, maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’ve been watching a bit too much “Millionaire Matchmaker.” Alright, I’ll shut-up now.

To infinity, and beyond!

Everybody! Guess what? I’m engaged! Ahhh! OK, actually, that was a lie; I’m not engaged, but I thought I’d say it anyway because it seems like everybody else is. C’mon, guys. I’m starting to feel a little left out. Alright, let’s change the subject. So, you’ve made it through the first decade of the new millennium. Congratulations. Feeling old yet? For those of you just entering college, you still have that invincible blood coursing through your rowdy, little veins; getting old hasn’t exactly hit you yet. While at the other end, those of us finishing up with our undergrad experience, and possibly looking a bit further into the future, may be at the precipice of beginning to taste our own mortality (it tastes yucky, just to let you know). Faculty, don’t you scoff now – we young’uns grow old too.

The fun’s really going to start when we have to explain to our children that we grew up with those chunky, VHS cassettes. Man, that’s going to blow their minds. Then, there’s the whole Apple revolution with the iPods, iTunes, iPhones and everything else that commences with a lowercase “i.” I can’t wait to see my kids’ faces when I tell them that music used to come from tangible, disk-like objects. The thing that really gets me though, and I mean really, really gets me, is texting. Forget the email; texting is the crowning communication achievement of the new millennium. It’s changed everything. For crying out loud, do you know how difficult it is to flirt with somebody via texting? OK, maybe it’s not that hard, but seriously. When I was thirteen, I picked up the phone, called the girl and told her I liked her. Voilá! It was that simple. Yes, it was really awkward, but really simple. Oh, the humanity. Where are we going? I still remember what my high school English teacher, Stephen Lacey, once said in class: “The only thing technology has done for us is allow more time to be busy.” Profound words …

Pleased to meet you. I'm a tool!

Myspace did a lot for us. It taught us how to play detective (you’ll never admit to how you once stalked someone online, but you’ll admit to doing “detective work”), it taught us how to become critics (remember when you used to rate your top friends?), but most of all, it blessed us with a new genre of photography. This new style best fits the category of the self-portrait, one to which I like to refer as the infamous “tool shot”.

Now, the “tool shot” has to fulfill a few requirements in order to be classified as a legitimate “tool shot”. One, the photographer needs to be half-naked. Two, the photographer needs to be in front of a mirror, or else he/she will have to settle for the awkward arm-bend maneuver (go on, I dare you to call your bro friends and ask them to come over and take half-naked pictures of you. What will they think?). Three, the photographer should never smile. This is a serious shot, one in which the photographer looks as though his/her dog has just died, but, at the same time feels like the cat’s pajamas (yes, I did just use the words cat and dog in one groovy sentence). Finally, four, the “tool shot” works best if the photographer is in the bathroom, preferably one where the toilet is in view. They say a picture’s worth a thousand words. Well, shoot, a thousand words aren’t enough as soon as you’ve included a toilet in the picture. I can see the Myspace caption now: “Hey baby, after you’ve finished checking out my rock-hard, chiseled abs, why don’t you stay and rest a bit on the John directly behind me?”

As the world continues to spin, and “tool shots” continue to appear all over social networking websites, we romantics will continue to bow our heads in shame. Seriously, “tool shots” need to die.