Mythology Corner Presents: “The Ten Thousand Faces of the Ticket Lady”

By Jeffrey Carl and Paul Caputo

University of Richmond Collegian, September 24 1994

Paul Caputo and I began writing humor columns together for the University of Richmond Collegian at the beginning of my Junior year. Paul had started his term as The Collegian’s opinion section editor that year, or maybe he hadn’t. I don’t really remember. Maybe it was me, or possibly Scott Shepard. I know it happened sometime during college. At any rate, Paul and I started writing together and later with Shepard as well. It was the start of a writing partnership that would last years and ultimately result in no tangible lasting value except for some free baseball tickets. I originally had something much more positive in mind when I started writing this introduction.

by  Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers

Moyers: Why do we need Good? So that we can have Evil? In every culture, religion and the myths it creates serve to control society and, ultimately, culture. The myth of the mysterious character of The Ticket Lady is a legend that occurs in nearly every culture ever studied. Is this an inherent need every society possesses for a black sheep, or is she just a weasel?

Campbell: No. Actually, every society has a need for collecting obscene amounts of money for miniscule traffic violations. The Babylonians, who, though they did not possess automobiles, foresaw the need for extra parking spaces, called this figure “Gilgamesh.”

Moyers: Really?

Campbell: No. That was just a myth created because the far-sighted Babylonians saw the need for Core Courses one day and became determined to develop the most boring myth possible. Actually, they called this figure “Ur-Golgothis.”

Moyers: The Core Course. Now, I remember taking that course. I recall thinking, “This is interesting, but shouldn’t we be learning something more Western?” I feared the PC police were taking over my college curriculum. I suspected that this had something to do with the imposing figure of the Ticket Lady, or possibly Scott Shepard. Was there a connection?

Campbell: No. The “Shepard Figure” of most early cultures reflected their primal need to have weird Southern accents and be crypto-fascists. The Ticket Lady myth goes deeper.

Moyers: Like the myth of the Light-Bringer of the Aztecs?

Campbell: No. You are on crack. What I was talking about was the primal need for a figure of supreme evil, which would ride around in a little electric cart.

Moyers: One time this enormous football player with a band-aid on his forehead driving a little electric cart crashed into me while I was walking to class. I stayed crumpled in a heap near the Gottwald Taco Bell, whilst stupid people on mountain bikes and skateboards ran over me. It wasn’t until three days later that the Ticket Lady rescued me on her cart. I remember being in awe of her prowess as she pressed those little buttons on that little deally thingy she has. Is it possible that the Ticket Lady could also serve as a force of compassion and love, and not just spite and cold-heartedness?

Campbell: Yes.

Moyers: Really?

Campbell: No. But there are two faces to the myth. Animus and anima. Venus and Cupid. Ticket Lady and Ticket Boy. 

Moyers: Does that have anything to do with Flagboy? Is there a Flaggirl?

Campbell: No. The Flagboy myth is a separate myth which deals with each society’s need for seriously annoying people. The Mesopotamians called this “Kwisatz-Haderach.” The early Sumerians called this “Irritating Boy.” But the separate entities of Ticket Lady and Ticket Boy go back to something deeper. The two faces of the Ticket Lady reflect the thousand faces of the Home Shopping Network. It also reflects every culture’s need for being drunk and going to Getty Mart. The Chinook Indians called this “Getty-Mart.”

Moyers: Flagboy was pretty cool. I don’t know that I have ever actually been drunk, but one time I drank 13 32-ounce Mountain Dews at the Getty Mart free refill soda fountain. I went to a fraternity party and they wouldn’t let me in, so I just ran straight through the wall. I was pretty hopped up. Is there a connection?

Campbell: No. By the way, nobody likes you. The myth of the Mountain Dew-buzz, which the ancient Gauls called “WHOOOOOOOOOO-DOGGGEEEEEEEEZ!” is part of the subconscious need for drugs when you don’t have anything else, like free Ny-Quil from the Student Health Center. 

Moyers: I went to the Student Health Center once. I thought I had a headache. Turns out I was just pregnant. Cool, huh?

Campbell: No. But as I was saying, the Running-Through-Walls myth relates back to each society’s primal need to be stupid. And yet the Ticket Lady shows us how the power of mythology can recreate us, can redefine our relationship to the world, and can give us tickets.

Moyers: Ah. So the Ticket Lady serves a useful function?

Campbell: No. But the myth remains. There is what is known, there is what is unknown, and in between is the Ticket Lady. Mythology remains a powerful force for enforcing the aforementioned minor traffic violations. The ancient Hebrews called this “Yahweh.” The ancient Phoenicians called this “Not Graduating Until You Pay Your Ticket Fines.” I call it “Herbert.” But the power of the myth remains the same. The myth of pointless tickets remains powerful, intriguing and irritating.

Moyers: I ate too many Buffalo wings at Friday’s a couple days ago and I booted all over the parking lot. At any rate, I had really vivid dreams that night, and I remember that in one of them, I was walking alone through the puddles outside the Commons and the Ticket Lady came to me. She drove up to me and her little mobile deally looked as if it was floating, and she said, in a really deep voice, “Richmond is #1 because Wake Forest got moved up to the ‘Real College’ category.” I was so happy, yet at the same time so empty. Does this relate to the eternal myth?

Campbell: No. But the significance of the dream remains unchanged, in that it is pointless, like…

Moyers: A degree in Leadership? The coordinate system? The Greek system?

Campbell: No. Bite me. And, as aforementioned, everybody hates you. As I was saying, the dream is lame, like Pauly Shore movies or small dogs attempting to eat you. Incidentally, the myth of the Scary Old Guy Walking Around The Lake With The Irritating Little Dog is shared in many cultures.

Moyers: Really?

Campbell: Yes.

Moyers: You’re serious?

Campbell: No. The mythological significance of the Ticket-Boy-as-Tragic-Hero is deeper than the myth of the Chicken-Sandwich-and-Bacon-as-Separate-Entrées. There is a feeling of loneliness in each culture that needs an expression — a feeling of despair, a feeling of nausea, a feeling up of the girl sitting next to you at a party when everybody’s drunk anyway. The myth also expresses a culture’s search for a figure who is kind of minty-flavored and improves gas mileage.

Moyers: Like Fla-Vor Ices, or the show “Newhart.” I know what you mean. But what about her role as arbiter of divine intervention? Can we draw a parallel to the myth of Pebbles From the D-Hall, Bringer of Divine Guidance and Fried Or Baked Chicken?

Campbell: No. Bite me. 

Moyers: I see. How does that relate to you kissing my — as the ancient Incas called it — big white ass, you queer-as-a-three-legged-picnic-basket, dumb-as-a-small-dog-sniffing-glue, ornery-as-a-snake-with-hemorrhoids, more-evil-than-Megatron-leader-of-the-Decepticons-from-Transformers son-of-a-six-legged-Nazi-motorcycle-gang?

Campbell: No. Bite me.

Moyers: That concludes our interview. Good night and God bless. By the way, I am an atheist. So leave me the Hell alone.

Campbell: And bite me.

You … Yes, You … You’re Not Paying Attention

by Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
University of Richmond Collegian, September 8 1994

Thanks to a bare modicum of writing skill and a more obvious fondness for bourbon which aligned with that of my journalism professors, my putative career advanced rapidly through my undergraduate years. I went from a practicum story writer for the University of Richmond Collegian student newspaper in my freshman year to Assistant News Editor in my sophomore year, then on to Greek Life Editor and IT Manager (I read MacWorld magazine!) in my junior year, and ultimately to Opinion Editor in my senior year.

For some reason that escapes me now, I acquired a humor column during this process at the beginning of my junior year. This column, titled “Over the Cliff Notes,” eventually ran for 22 installments and was over the course of two years was read by literally dozens of actual humans, only most of which where KA pledges I forced to do so. Its literary influence was quite literally incalculable, and I’m just going to leave it at that.

It occurs to me now that topical humor from college campuses nearly 30 years ago does not age well. I’m sure it was absolutely hilarious at the time, though. Enjoy!

We here at The Collegian pride ourselves on being responsive to our readers.

We also have a bridge to sell you.

We even-more-also have a whole new bagful of thoughtful questions sent in by curious readers like yourself.

Q: When does housing registration and room selection for next year begin? 

A: You know, the biggest problem facing America today is not drugs or crime or non-alcoholic beer or even people who say “acrost.”

It is, in fact, our national short attention span.  Every day folks like you or me are hindered in their daily activities by their inability to pay attention to anything for any lengthy amount of time.

Like you, for example.  Yes, you.  You weren’t even paying attention to that last bit, were you?  Nooo, you just see a word over two syllables and you just throw it out the door and go back to snorking Cheez-Doodles™ from your roommate’s desk and thinking about that Baywatch® episode where the kid almost drowns and the woman blames David Hasselhoff (in some of his finest work since Knight Rider©) and he goes through this enormous period of angst that shows his depth as an actor which I haven’t seen the likes of since Laurence Olivier starred in Hamlet™ and it ends up that the kid survives and the woman realizes she was wrong and David Hasselhoff gets cheered up by whoserbody, the brunette one which reminds me that somebody said that Baywatch™2 is really high-budget but from the looks of it I guess they spent it all on cleavage.

So if you don’t pay attention in life, you’re going to end up in the gutter, drinking Mad Dog® and eating moldy apples and talking to yourself about Baywatch, which, interestingly enough, would in Latin be spelled “Bæwatch.”  Pretty cool, huh?

So, anyway, it’s really important that you pay attention in life.  I, myself, am continually being embarrassed by the fact that on an average day, at least 10 people will stroll past me and say “hi, Jeff,” or a similar acknowledgement of recognition, and I have no clue whatsoever as to who these people are.

This is perhaps simply to be explained as being one of the many areas of life that I have “no clue whatsoever” about (viz. Calculus™ and girls), but it still causes me a flurry of consternation every time this happens.

This is not to say that I don’t fully recognize a full 95 percent or even perhaps as high as 50 percent of the people I meet each day.  But every time one of these phantom  encounters occurs, my brain goes down like Boba Fett© into the Great Pit of Carkoon™, home of the great Sarlacc (Matthew 12:7) and I go crazy attempting to figure out what this person’s name is, where I know them from, and why the Hell they’re after me.  A typical exchange:

PERSON X: Hey there, Jeff.

ME: Oh … hi-de-li-ho! [Jack?  Bob?  Jorge?  Torvald?  Yoda? … aw, Hell, better play it safe …] How have you been, guy?

PERSON X: Pretty good … those were some crazy times last weekend, eh?

ME: Yeeeeeeeeeaaaahhhhhh … [Does he work at Taco Bell?  Is this my brother-in-law?  Is he with the Canadian Border Police?  I didn’t meet this guy in prison, did I?]  Yup, they suuuure as heck were.  Look, I hafta run, but say “hi” to, uh …

PERSON X: Helga and Frothgar?

ME: Yeeeeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhh … say “hi” to Helga and Frothgar for me. [This guy can’t be with the Feds … and I’m sure I paid my bookie last week … I think that Totally Hidden Video™ got canceled a few seasons ago …  well, I’ll never see him again anyway.] Bye!

PERSON X: Buh -bye!

This is the last time I ever see Person X again until he adds in to my Tuesday-Thursday 11:15 class.  So you should really learn to pay attention.

Q: Well, what is the best way to improve your memory or your attention span?

A: The worst thing is the parking situation in the apartments.   How ’bout that Ticket Lady?  I think she’s Hitler-riffic.  But the one time in my life I want to see some heavy parking fines being doled out (to people who don’t have A-Lot stickers parking in front of my apartment so there’s no room and I have to park somewhere like Æ Lot, which is actually parking in left field of the Diamond, when the Richmond Braves aren’t playing), she’s nowhere to be found.

I mean, do they overbook parking lots like airline flights?  Or is there a deeper, more sinister force at work here?  I don’t know.

Anyway, you should pay attention more.

Wilkommen ze die Kollegiann! Guten Frau!

By Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
University of Richmond Collegian, September 1 1994

Thanks to a bare modicum of writing skill and a more obvious fondness for bourbon which aligned with that of my journalism professors, my putative career advanced rapidly through my undergraduate years. I went from a practicum story writer for the University of Richmond Collegian student newspaper in my freshman year to Assistant News Editor in my sophomore year, then on to Greek Life Editor and IT Manager (I read MacWorld magazine!) in my junior year, and ultimately to Opinion Editor in my senior year.

For some reason that escapes me now, I acquired a humor column during this process at the beginning of my junior year. This column, titled “Over the Cliff Notes,” eventually ran for 22 installments and was over the course of two years was read by literally dozens of actual humans, only most of which where KA pledges I forced to do so. Its literary influence was quite literally incalculable, and I’m just going to leave it at that.

It occurs to me now that topical humor from college campuses nearly 30 years ago does not age well. I’m sure it was absolutely hilarious at the time, though. Enjoy!

Or, for those of you who don’t speak German, like I don’t, welcome to The Collegian, student newspaper of the University of Richmond, which I assume you are already familiar with.

My name is Danny “Dan-O” Noonan, and I am the Opinion section editor.  This means, roughly, that I am paid a teensy amount of money “every so often” for editing other columns and occasionally recycling jokes from other places I have read them.  I also carefully read all of the reader mail sent to us, considering its suggestions (most of which are “die in flames, you maggot”) and then respond to our concerned readers in a curteous, appropriate fashion (usually short letters that say, “Yeah, well, you suck too.”)

This is because we here at The Collegian pride ourselves on being responsive to our readers.  And, for those of you who are New Readers, we wish to present a brief introduction to our fine college – in fact, sort of an “Everything You Wanted to Know about the University of Richmond but Were Afraid of the People Who Could Answer Those Questions Because They’re Scary.”  So let’s dip into the reader mailbag here – for those of you who have read this column before, just follow along with the gag – and pull out some of those Most Oftenly Asked Questions.  By the way, for those New Readers out there, since you don’t know any better – everything in any of these columns is absolutely 100 percent true.

Q: What is the easiest way to remember my long-distance access code?

A: Well, I’m glad that you asked about social life here at college.  If you’re asking yourself the normal freshman question, “will I meet nice people here?” then you can relax.  The answer is no, and you’re not going to have any friends unless your mother sends everybody checks like she did for you in high school.

For those of you who are international students or just not familiar with English, try the following hip American greetings to get you noticed at parties:

“Greetings, Senator.  I am the Arch-villain ‘Frogface.’”

“I am glad to meet you [insert person’s name here] and I sincerely hope that the gelatin is no longer in your hovercraft.”

“Will you dance with Mr. Wiggly, Sir?”

“Take my wife – please!”

Ha, ha.  Just kidding.  I didn’t really mean that.  That stuff is actually as crazy as a football bat.  But why print it, then?  

That’s because we here at The Collegian pride ourselves on thinking that we’re funny.  But (sigh) down to business.  Now we’ll actually answer a letter sent in by a student at the end of last year.

Q: Whom do I get in touch with if I have a medical emergency?

A: I’m happy you asked about dormitory cable services.  All of the dorms apparently have cable now.  This improves the quality of life, and leaves you with a few new options for your leisure time and several hundred bitter seniors who had to wait until they got out to the apartments to get cable and feel that this little turn of events really just bites ass.

Of course, I meant “really bites ass” in the strict biblical sense.

But the point remains that back when I was a youngster, the dorms came equipped with exactly two amenities: cold and colder running water in the showers, and large or larger scurrying rodents in the halls.  We had to walk to class in snow that was eight feet deep, even if we had both legs broken and it was a Saturday.  And did we have “Skinemax” to look forward to when we got home (Channel 2)?  Hell, no!  So just put that in your hat and smoke it.

Now, for those of you that have gotten this far or even read the other columns in this section, both of you will be happy to note that there is a roughly 15% overall decrease in bitching about the lake and the coordinate system from the same time last year.

This means that our columnists are not up to par and we will be searching for new ones.  If you are interested in writing for the Collegian, go to hell.  Ha ha.  Just kidding.  If you are indeed interested, please call and let us know.

By the way – enjoy your year.  It’s actually pretty fun here.