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<p>UCHICAGO WRITING SUPPLEMENT: “This is what history consists of. It’s the sum total of all the things they aren’t telling us.” - Don DeLillo, Libra. What is history, who are “they,” and what aren’t they telling us?</p>

<p>I am going to tell you a story about a man, a peculiar object, and his imagination. And if you hold on, there is a message to be received from this tale. Now this was a very rich and powerful man—a Sultan, actually. This Sultan was famed for his riches and his rapacious desire for exotic things. Men from lands far and near would travel to his palace, bringing objects, hoping to gain the royal highness’s favor. Some would bring silk and linens from the Orient, while others would bring the wool and waxes of the West.</p>

<p>One day, a man that passed through the palace gates carried the most exotic item of all. He said to the guards blocking the entrance to the throne, “I have traveled long and far, and I have brought something that the dear Sultan has never seen before.”</p>

<p>“Bring him in!” roared the Sultan, overhearing what the man had said. “If it is truly something I have never seen before, then you will be greatly rewarded.” </p>

<p>The man entered the Sultan’s court and pulled back his robe revealing a satchel. He removed the flap and pulled out the truly exotic item. “What is it?” queried the Sultan’s Grand Vizier. </p>

<p>“It’s called a whatchamacallit,” the man answered, giving a wide grin. </p>

<p>“Yes, but what is it?” the Sultan retorted. </p>

<p>“I don’t know… you tell me.” </p>

<p>The impatient Sultan did not realize what the man was trying to tell him. Earnestly wanting to know the true value of the whatchamacallit, he began to consult others in his presence. </p>

<p>“It looks like a beautiful robe,” said the Grand Vizier. </p>

<p>“No. It is a toy for children,” said one of the guards. </p>

<p>Soon the entire court was fighting over the true meaning of the whatchamacallit. The royal palace began to flood with: </p>

<p>“Anybody with two eyes can see that it’s a scimitar.” </p>

<p>And… </p>

<p>“Perhaps I am the one with both eyes intact, for it is clearly a wild animal from the West!” </p>

<p>And so on. </p>

<p>Amidst the fighting and debating, the Sultan had an epiphany. “Silence!” thundered the voice of the Sultan, drowning out the noise and uproar. “I know what it is,” he declared as he stood up, enlightened. The court thickened with tension as they all stared at the Sultan, eagerly awaiting his response. He began: </p>

<p>“My friends, you are all correct.” Everyone grimaced in confusion. He continued, “The whatchamacallit is what you make of it, and nobody is one to tell you otherwise.” </p>

<p>That is the message, dear Reader. History is a story, its annals a storybook, and each page a whatchamacallit. They, the storytellers, aren’t telling you how you interpret a whatchamacallit. We can only interpret it in our own way using our own imaginations. One story, many interpretations. That is the magic behind storytelling. </p>

<p>The court stood in awe, for it was understood—what the wise man had tried to tell the Sultan earlier. Like the Sultan promised, the man who had traveled long and far was given ten bags of gold and jewels, as well as five donkeys to help him on his long trek home. The Sultan placed the whatchamacallit at the front of his palace for all to see, and when anybody asked him for its meaning, he merely replied, “I don’t know… you tell me.”</p>

<p>The End</p>

<p>So… what do you think?</p>

<p>@ACunningLinguist I’ve just read the whatchamacallit essay. It’s great, I like it very much, great anecdote. Well done!</p>

<p>@ACL your essay is great, and very similar to my approach. i was deferred</p>

<p>@ultrachromatic I haven’t yet! I just finished Pale Fire and it was so complex and beautiful and weird that my mind’s almost needed a break to process how great it was, you know? I got Bend Sinister from a secondhand shop, though, I think that’ll have to be next. Lolita is hands down my favorite book of all time. What’s his poetry collection like? I hope to see you too! I’m definitely not giving up on Chicago :)</p>

<p>@ACunningLinguist first, I love your username! I didn’t get to read your common app one yet, but I really like the writing supplement. It has a very Kubla Khan vibe to it. I think using whatchamacallit is a nice touch–it gives it a fun mix of casual and formal. I hope we all get in!</p>

<p>In the spirit of adventurous inquiry, pose a question of your own. If your prompt is original and thoughtful, then you should have little trouble writing a great essay. Draw on your best qualities as a writer, thinker, visionary, social critic, sage, citizen of the world, or future citizen of the University of Chicago; take a little risk, and have fun.</p>

<p>Prompt: Explain your intimate relationship with coffee.</p>

<p>The Coffee-Drinker</p>

<pre><code> I pour the half and half into the cup, my hands trembling as I prepare for another injection of my favorite brew. I call it energy, or help, or maybe, when the mood is right, “Miss brown eyes.” Now, you may be wondering to yourself, who writes an essay devoted to a beverage? And to such a caffeinated and pedestrian a beverage as coffee? Well - and don’t misunderstand me, I love the taste of coffee - I am really writing for the philosophical beverage that I consume; the gulp of wisdom.

Throughout my short time on this Earth I have subscribed to many philosophies, to many creeds, and I have found none yet as rewarding as the Philosophy of Coffee; that path of beans and cream. You see, my great insight in years of thinking and reading and writing (or trying to, at least) is that balance is essential for happiness, (not to mention digestion). Brewing coffee teaches this balance.

The process of coffee consumption begins long before the coffee and water are mixed, yes, even before you are in the kitchen. The coffee-drinker without coffee is a quiet man; he is resigned, calm, even sleepy. The coffee-drinker, long before he enters the kitchen, begins the renewing process of coffee drinking. He is often to be found asleep, resting, or maybe, perchance, meditating. But, when the time is right, the coffee-drinker senses a stirring in the winds of his soul, he feels it is time to go outwards, and explore lands hither. To be like Bilbo, Odysseus, or any great man and adventure towards the moon and the stars. The coffee-drinker is maybe more compelled than the others around him for the outward search, but his search is begun from a place of deep inner peace and relaxation.

  You see, when you decide to make coffee, you must be patient; no amount of screaming or crying or running about like a chicken with its head cut off is going to expedite your process. In a life and world where most things are NOW, and there is no relaxation; brewing coffee teaches the wisdom associated with patience. The coffee-drinker knows that now is the time to relax, now, when the coffee is brewing, now you must let the aroma hit your nose, now you must let yourself be engaged by the magnificence and wonder of the world around you. Indeed, drinking coffee is an exercise in what my favorite Buddhist calls &#8220;hereness and nowness,&#8221; where you appreciate the beauty of the moment you are living in.

    But you may wonder, &#8220;All that &#8216;hereness and nowness&#8217; is great, but at some point it must end, right? The coffee won&#8217;t brew forever!&#8221; Ah yes, but now that you have begun your day with the soothing and calming of such a simple routine, and you have noticed all the beauty and tranquility of daily life, you can go attack the day! Now, my good friends, you can go outwards, like Bilbo, and leave the shire, leave your place of tranquility, but with the knowledge that you aren&#8217;t missing out on the beauty of life and with the extra energy and zest coffee affords!

</code></pre>

<p>-end-</p>

<p>I couldn’t and still can’t decide if this was a good or bad essay… It was fun to right though.</p>

<h2>A little fun background on this essay: this was done around 40 minutes before the early action submission deadline! The supplement totally slipped my mind and in my panic I threw this together. Enjoy! :D</h2>

<p>UCHICAGO WRITING SUPPLEMENT PROMPT: The mantis shrimp can perceive both polarized light and multispectral images; they have the most complex eyes in the animal kingdom. Human eyes have color receptors for three colors (red, green, and blue); the mantis shrimp has receptors for sixteen types of color, enabling them to see a spectrum far beyond the capacity of the human brain. Seriously, how cool is the mantis shrimp: mantisshrimp.uchicago.edu What might they be able to see that we cannot? What are we missing? </p>

<p>Oh, the irony.</p>

<p>A simple crustacean that can understand more of the world it inhabits than we can. We barely have knowledge of the ocean itself. The fact that this small, colorful shrimp can see not four, not five, but thirteen more types of color proves to humanity that there is nothing we can absolutely, fully, comprehend without questioning existence itself. The mantis shrimp is a fantastic example of human denial. What other things can we not see clearly? Our eyesight had faded with the illusions that other humans create for us to observe. “Is the sky blue? But of course it is, due to this theory, and that evidence. The sky is blue because we know it is blue.” Proof of this world is only available to us in the material world we can access. Ethereal beings take no heed to participate in our eyesight; we are left on our own circumstances to determine what we see, and whether or not to believe it. </p>

<p>I would like to imagine the shrimp as an enlightened organism, floating in a sea of knowledge it clearly understands. The other krill, fish, sharks and eels cannot understand the complexity of what it can see. He is the mantis shrimp, master of his realm and gatekeeper to the world of a million colors. Other fish may argue over the seaweed being to dry and bitter while the mantis shrimp ponder the meaning of darker hues in the water due to flashes of sunlight piercing the shimmering skin of the ocean. Most humans are the fish of the Earth, but a few of the mantis shrimp exist to make a difference. They know of the mishaps humanity has had and learn from the vibrant colors of the future to better themselves and the world. However, the majority of the human race lingers in a salty sea of disputes, of moral problems and meaningless issues. The proper approach eludes us. </p>

<p>If only we listened to the mantis shrimp of the world instead of ignoring them and viewed the world with a more colorful state of mind, we could achieve so much more. The small, enclosed world we exist in would open its boundaries to new, uncharted and alien lands. The capacity for us to alter the state of the world: it exists in the tiny, beady eyes of a 30 centimeter shrimp.</p>

<p>I did the history one; after reading everyone else’s i’m much less confident in mine, any thoughts? </p>

<pre><code> UCHICAGO WRITING SUPPLEMENT: “This is what history consists of. It’s the sum total of all the things they aren’t telling us.” - Don DeLillo, Libra. What is history, who are “they,” and what aren’t they telling us?

 As I type these words my thoughts fall into history. Captured by that mysterious force that draws all events from their initiators, they will only pushed back further by the time this paper has reached your desk. 

So we are getting somewhere, it would seem; of course, we have no choice in the matter, as time moves forward regardless of our actions. But what I mean to say is that we are getting closer to defining what history really consists of: it is the past.
This may sound odd at first; after all, we are conditioned to believe that history is nothing more than the mere manifestation of dates and facts printed and bound into thick stacks of text. But history is everything that has ever occurred, the mark left by every individual who has ever lived, no matter if anyone at all believes them important enough to include in a formal curriculum. Such histories could certainly be kept from us; they are created externally, in another frame of time, and therefore are only brought to our knowledge by their transcription into written and oral conversation. But the actions of a life are a work of art, an art-ifact. So the question remains: who is censoring these expressions?
Personally, I have no idea. I have only known one person who has now past, and though that may give me some insight, I certainly cannot extrapolate her secrets to all of humankind. And so it would seem I’m at a loss to your question. I do not have an answer, so I suppose there is no choice but to crumple up this page, toss it away, and maybe try to tackle the joke prompt instead.
… But wait, if you will, for just a moment longer. What if, rather than crumpling up and discarding this paper, I crumpled up time itself? Then where would the history lie?
You see, Einstein’s Theory Relativity tells us that time is subjective. We believe time to be a river, flowing indefinitely in one direction; but relativity depends on perspective, and so the river may actually be a jumble of simultaneous pools we are only capable of seeing as a sequence of past, present, and future; time may not be linear.
Now you must be a little confused; after all, the white rabbit was late for a very important date, so does a nonlinear plot of time even have any real relevance to our daily lives? Well, let’s assume for a moment that Carroll’s Wonderland operates under the same theoretical principles as our world; would it then mean one could never be late? As it would seem, we are in fact the ones hiding the secrets of history from ourselves; our inability to experience anything but that which we consider to be the present restricts us from perceiving the truth of the frames we consider to have come before; we detach ourselves from our own histories.
Correct me if I am wrong, but the phrase “what aren’t they telling us” carries a negative connotation; if that were the case, then I would have to disagree with the premise of your question. Maybe we are never late, neither early, but arrive just at the exact point in time when we are meant to. It is only through our false cognition of a flow of time that we are able to embark on the journey to discover that which we have already determined for ourselves; it is the ability to not be entirely sure who you have been and where you will go, but nonetheless feel a push of pure intuition in a single moment toward something which you cannot explain until it is followed to completion.
And maybe that’s why they call it the Present; a forced break from the regrets of the past and the consequences of the future that allows us to create something free and unbounded today just may be the greatest gift we will ever be given.
</code></pre>

<p>@Coayay - I think that your writing is good, but it seemed forced, like “I need to answer this prompt” rather than a creative, flowing essay.</p>

<p>I have to agree with Marinozai. It’s good writing (except for the excessive use of semi-colons), but it’s almost as if you’re trying to circumvent the question. </p>

<p>You start on a theme, then give it up, then restart on another theme. It just doesn’t “flow” very well.</p>

<p>reading it over I definitely see what you guys are saying. I guess I was going for a kind of internal stream of consciousness ramble sort of a thing, so in a way I wanted it to be a little discombobulated and random as that is representative of the way I think. My other essays are more traditional in their style so I hope they realize that it was a stylistic choice if they don’t like the way it was written. </p>

<p>and yeah, cooldra01, I tend to use semicolons more than periods in my writing; I have a tendency for extremely long sentences.</p>

<p>Thanks for your opinions!</p>

<p>If someone has taken the time to read the essay I poster earlier - what do you think? I am worried that it was too random…</p>

<h2>How does the University of Chicago, as you know it now, satisfy your desire for a particular kind of learning, community, and future? Please address with some specificity your own wishes and how they relate to UChicago.</h2>

<p>On one side of the room, the winners were scattering flakes of ripped scratch paper over the losing team for them to pick up. On the other side, people were furiously doing pushups in defeat. It was rather a ridiculous and comical scene. Some days I thought I was an idiot, other days I beat an International Math Olympiad medalist. However I learned that math was social and enjoyable, and that making good insights required learning other peoples’ perspectives. I eventually figured that empathy, while a trait most commonly used to judge feelings, could also be used to collect ideas. This was the true beginning that made me able to see many new connections in mathematics and research, and allowed me to envision beautiful ideas in my mind, where I could not before.
At UChicago, what were past Olympiads instead become problem sets in class, solved in groups as well. Collaboration becomes key. In my high school, we compete against each other, in the arms race from AP classes, SAT camps, and extracurriculars; there was no supportive environment for the happiness and fulfillment of pursuing one’s curiosity, which I deeply desired. However in contrast, UChicago is a tight-knit community. It’s a place where I can truly make real and close friends who I can trust as we grow together and help each other. Given a change from my home life as well, I can assure a much better academic record. Along with the research I have done and currently undertaking, I want to continue interning and doing research at UChicago, knowing endless opportunities. For instance, the REU and the VIGRE would benefit me well. I particularly like the fact that UChicago offers interesting research in topology as well as applied math, which ties in to CS.<br>
To gain and to give knowledge and opportunity is my goal. I never let myself pass as someone who merely accepts his perceived fate nor lets his horizons become locked. It became a sort of fight for my ideals as I realized how much prejudice there was against my background. Consequently, I became an outsider to others and my own family, and wisdom became a commodity not easily shared with me. I find that UChicago’s philosophy of learning for the sake of learning and not for the grades a well fit for me. </p>

<h2>Instead for a long time, I learned my intuition about the world by luck. Like math, trying out methods, failing, and trying again with improved wisdom was the way out. From this pattern, I learned far more about myself. I realized fear of failure is what restricts the mind and keeps it into stagnation, but in perhaps my proudest accomplishments, I was able to slowly free myself from its confines. In the end, I want to gain from and give to the library of human experiences and knowledge and step into a bigger world.</h2>

<p>In the spirit of adventurous inquiry, pose a question of your own. If your prompt is original and thoughtful, then you should have little trouble writing a great essay. Draw on your best qualities as a writer, thinker, visionary, social critic, sage, citizen of the world, or future citizen of the University of Chicago; take a little risk, and have fun.</p>

<hr>

<p>The question I’d like to propose is “What is creativity? How can one learn more and more of it?”
I would like to start out with a personal example. After school while waiting for a carpool ride, my friend Josh asked about a random algorithm. Interested in the problem presented, I tried to create an example to help. </p>

<p>“This is a simple graph, with vertices (points) and edges between some pairs of points”, This could describe for the particular application of this problem, a representation of people (vertices) on Facebook and their friendships (edges). Our goal is to “cluster”, or put each person into one of several groups, such that optimally, the number of friendships in a group gets maximized. Normally, this problem may be too technical, but I told Josh that with a bit of imagination, it can be remarkable.</p>

<p>I thought and thought how to present technical problems into very intuitive approaches. Knowing how Josh had taken physics, I made up this argument: “You know how heat flows in all directions equally? Imagine if every edge had some amount of heat on it, and we let it flow on the graph, moving across all these edges. Then most of the time, the heat will get piled up in the places with the most edges, and that can be our clustering.” It’s a lot of technical jargon from here on out to visualize this, but Josh was amazed at the beauty of the insight: how heat and graph theory combine to solve these types of problems. </p>

<p>My rise in mathematics was very motivated by my surroundings at first. As a resident from a small town in Colorado, I struggled to answer with a good response about obtaining creativity, when others were pouring money into SAT camps and the like. It was a completely new phenomenon to me, after seeing how others could just think about things out of the blue so quickly. I chatted on G-mail with some of the top math students in the nation in high school, trying to gain insight into the workings of their minds. I first struggled at reading mathematical papers and literature. I and others solved dozens of hard problems when discussing ideas.</p>

<p>A particular quote I would like to post from a book:<br>
“This assistant of Einstein worked on it for quite a bit before he realized that the answer is the real motion of matter… But when I put it to him, about a rocket with a clock, he didn’t recognize it. It was just like the guys in mechanical drawing class, but this time it wasn’t dumb freshmen. So this kind of fragility [of knowledge] is, in fact, fairly common, even with more learned people.” – Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!</p>

<p>While this creativity and problem solving can certainly be described into a simple “Know how to apply your knowledge”, I believe there is a far greater meaning in scientific endeavor. Most of the brilliant and beautiful insights have been made through connecting seemingly unrelated principles for a greater understanding; this is the opposite of vertically building knowledge through pure logic. From the example, no complex theories were truly required, yet it had such a profound result. People have done things in a context already set out before them, without any inclination to disturb. But what actually motivates anyone to seek out these connections and ‘disturbances’ in the first place? As Feynman continues to say, “Why did I enjoy it? I used to play with it. I used to do whatever I felt like doing”. To have a mindset for wandering around, desiring elegance, and trying new things without a fear or failure nor desire for prestige leads to this powerful statement.</p>

<p>I found this “fragility” of knowledge related to my experience in math olympiads and in research as well; it was only after experiencing both failure and a willingness to not be chained by administration nor the classroom that I began to see this. I realized that it is truly a pity to completely discipline ourselves to such goals, dampening the quality of our thoughts. Most of us seek a predetermined path or goal, and cannot thrive in cases of ambiguity. Humans seek clarity for their future, believing that there must exist some guarantee of reward or outcome from a consistent plan of actions, sometimes going as far as to define a sense of worth and self through these plans, becoming almost un-adaptable and inflexible. No such security exists, when we are expected to do something out of the bounds of human knowledge.</p>

<p>Hi, any thoughts on my essay? Much appreciated.</p>

<p>I said I’d post my essay after the RD deadline, so here it is. I was deferred EA, but I still really like my essay. Let me know what you think!</p>

<p>A fish swims into a wall and says, “Dam.”</p>

<p>Or did it say “Damn”? The joke stops there, leaving the fish’s statement open for interpretation. Either way, this pun is suitable for all ages, as young children will learn what a dam is, and older audiences will be hooked by the line’s simple brilliance.</p>

<p>In addition to the play on words, there is something humorous about visualizing a fish swimming into a wall. How oblivious must it have been not to see the dam? Clearly, the fish wasn’t the brightest in its school. Then again, perhaps it was distracted by a boat overhead or preoccupied with whatever thoughts fish can dwell on. The joke does not provide any insight as to why the fish had a lapse in its navigation abilities, however, so I feel no guilt in being amused by the fish’s predicament. What if it was drunk and swerved into the wall by accident? What if it chose the path less traveled and hit a dead end? The possibilities are as endless as they are inconsequential, yet they are still entertaining to ponder.</p>

<p>You may think that this essay has been a red herring so far, as it has primarily described the fish rather than the pun, which is meant to be the emphasis of the joke. However, I think that imagining situations that could have caused a fish to swim into a wall can be much funnier than the joke itself. In this particular joke, that bar is set high because the pun made by the fish was delivered so swimmingly. In a single, monosyllabic word, the fish identified the issue at hand (or fin, as the case may be) and expressed its frustration with what happened. Regardless of whether or not the fish intended the double meaning, its pun was highly successful due to its snappy succinctness.</p>

<p>Though some people may carp about their cheesiness, puns are phenomenal vehicles for making light of embarrassing situations such as swimming into walls. It is up to the listener of the joke to decide whether or not the fish was clever enough to use the pun to diffuse its embarrassment, but the fish was still far ahead of the rest of its species merely because it demonstrated a capacity for language, even if it didn’t have the type of intelligence necessary to either make a pun or prevent its crash in the first place. Perhaps the fish was the brightest in its school, after all.</p>

<p>There is no sole factor that makes this joke especially remarkable, but, altogether, the fish’s bleak situation, the pun it makes, and the brevity of the joke pack a rich slice of humor. It is the combination of these things that has led me to remember the joke through a good number of years, and I am unashamed to say that I still enjoy telling and listening to it. Nothing will ever stop me from admiring the puntastic simplicity of a fish that swims into a wall and says, “Dam.”</p>

<p>@SeaSwallowed that was so much fun to read! I hope you get in; if I were an admissions officer I’d find that a nice break to enjoy in the midst of all the super-solemn essays. I love all the extra puns in there. Was “sole factor” intentional? Anyway, seriously awesome job. Thanks for posting!</p>

<p>Thanks! Yes, that sentence actually had two puns, though I don’t think anyone would catch the second one (bleak is a type of fish). I was really tempted to put a pun count at the bottom, but I decided not to in the end.</p>

<p>You should have. Just for the halibut.</p>

<p>Holy mackerel. Too many fish puns.</p>

<p>This was my joke essay. I applied RD</p>

<hr>

<p>Since the University of Chicago is often regarded as an institution that “kills fun” and a place where “fun goes to die,” the University must have thought it appropriate to create a prompt that asks applicants to explain a joke; a seeming trial by fire that lets applicants know that if admitted, this will be the last joke they ever tell. Because I also treat jokes as serious business, I thank you for implementing this prompt. Here goes:</p>

<p>The local bar was so sure that its bartender was the strongest man around that it offered $1,000 to anyone who could squeeze a single drop more from a lemon the bartender had already squeezed. Men from almost every walk of life had tried and failed.</p>

<p>One day, a scrawny little man wearing thick glasses and a polyester suit walked into the bar. “I’d like to try the bet,” he said. After the laughter died down, the bartender grabbed a lemon and squeezed the juice. Then he handed the wrinkled remains to the little man.</p>

<p>The crowd’s laughter turned to silence as the man clenched his fist around the lemon. Six drops fell into the glass! The patrons erupted into cheers.</p>

<p>As the bartender handed over the $1,000, he asked what the little man did for a living.
“I work for the IRS,” he answered.</p>

<p>Hahahaha! What a knee-slapper! Just imagine the scenario: a bar full of drunk men passing laughter around while this little man walks in, believing that the little man, with his thick glasses and polyester suit, must only be attempting this because YOLO. The little man however, has a secret: he works for the IRS. You know, that agency that will look through your garbage when they audit you. Well the agency trained him to meticulous perfection and his skills became ever so apparent with every drop he squeezed from the lemon (not to be confused with the American taxpayer). Brilliant! Read it again if you must. Why this is hardly a joke but an insight into human nature!</p>

<p>My life, as is the life of every applicant to UChicago, is about picking winners. We root for the bartender before the little man enters the picture, but when he does, we cheer for the little guy. To illustrate, just the other day, I was standing in line at the DMV and let me tell you, the people who were there were as varied as their reasons for being there. One thing they all quickly realized however, is that at the DMV, all men are created equal; whether you are a hot dog vendor or the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, you will wait on line at the DMV. Understandably, many became agitated. This one man, perhaps in his 50s, was so frustrated that he began to pace around angrily looking for those in charge. After being attended to by a supervisor, the man entered a large room which slightly resembled a 15th century Spanish inquisition torture-chamber. Anyhow, after twenty minutes or so, the man emerged not only unscathed but surprisingly joyful. Only half an hour ago he was redder than red, and now, he resembled a peaceful sunrise. And why? Because he not only beat the system but also won the hearts of the people who, only a short while ago, he cut in front of. He picked winners; he manipulated the cards he was dealt to expunge a ticket. I guess when life gives you lemons, squeeze like the IRS.</p>