Rashad McCants Represents a Bigger Higher Education Problem
Today, ESPN reported Rashad McCants claims he had tutors write his term papers, he rarely went to class at UNC and he remained able to play because “he took bogus classes designed to keep athletes academically eligible.”
If these accounts are true, it adds to recent laundry list of the institutions’ failings. What I’m more interested in, however, are McCants’ telling expectations of college as a student-athlete.
It gets worse:
"You're there to make revenue for the college. You're there to put fans in the seats. You're there to bring prestige to the university by winning games."
In 2014, this is a reality and a collective failure by a number of institutions. We can point fingers at coaches and BCS universities – but let’s start at the top: the NCAA and, to a lesser degree, the NBA.
In the 90s and early aughts, rebellious teen basketball stars chose to skip attending college and jump straight to playing professionally. In pretty much every other profession, this is acceptable. You’re an art protégé and want to start making bank at age 18? Sure!
But not basketball. The NCAA was losing out on selling LeBron’s face in exchange for lucrative television and sponsorship deals. It would be like McDonalds’ forgoing the McRib and just promoting five-piece chicken nuggets - aka the Wisconsin Badgers.
So, in 2005, the NBA ruled a player must have spent a year out of high school and be 19 years old to be eligible for the NBA Draft. It effectively forced a player to attend college for a year with little to no incentive to stay after that allotted time. The deal helped the NCAA add assets mislabeled as students.
Let’s remember this is college basketball we’re talking about, which is relative small stakes. Basketball brings in roughly $300,000 in revenue to major universities. Football, neigh, FOOTBALL, brought $95 million to the University of Texas in 2012.
Bottom line: the university has a huge incentive for keeping these worker bees on the court to slam-dunk honey into their tenure pool. Even still, is the university responsible for the academic success – or lack thereof - of their football and basketball scholarship students, particularly given 98% of whom will not be drafted in NBA or NFL?
One 2013 study by the University of Pennsylvania’s Center for the Study of Race and Equity in Education says yes. The paper, titled “Black Male Student-Athletes and Racial Inequities in NCAA Division I College Sports,” argues these institutions in particular are not doing enough to ensure black football and basketball student-athletes graduate at a rate of their peers.
A 12-person advisory committee contributed to the report, including one Cricket Lane, Ph.D. University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. That’s important for the McCants point, as well as the fact that UNC has the 12th largest gap between the percentage of athletes that are black men and the overall percentage of students that are black men.
The executive summary states that it is “astonishing to us that it seems the American public (including former Black student-athletes, sports enthusiasts, journalists, and leaders in Black communities) has accepted as normal the widespread inequities that are cyclically reproduced in most revenue-generating college sports programs.”
This is fair, by the numbers. The NCAA will tell you African-American men’s basketball players graduated at a 68 percent rate – the highest ever. But that takes into account every NCAA university. At the major revenue-generating schools, the numbers are much worse. In the ACC, only two schools bettered that 68 percent threshold:
More numbers indicate black student athletes are falling behind their black student peers:
And, more troubling, these students are falling way behind their undergraduate peers:
Further in the report, Kenneth L. Shropshire, J.D. accidentally opens up Pandora’s box for appropriate finger-pointing:
“Are these racial inequities in college completion best explained by Black men’s fascination with playing for the NFL and NBA, or is it that coaches only care if these students are academically eligible for athletic competition but are considerably less concerned about rates at which they graduate? Which is right, which is wrong?”
Well…what if both are right – and ultimately, both are detrimental? We already know that major universities have an incentive to keep players academically eligible, but the very nature of that bar-setting encourages mediocrity, not necessarily knowledge retention; you’re there to “pass,” not have the skills to land a career.
Let’s revisit McCants, who claimed the university gave him a “paper class” alternative. This concept of a class that does not require attendance and only requires a term paper to be graded at the end of the semester BLOWS PEOPLES MINDS. How can this work?!
It turns out I actually took three such English classes in Manchester during my study abroad program. I wasn’t required to attend class and I knew the works that would discussed in advance. I had one paper and one exam each. No quizzes, no homework, as is the norm in many higher education systems around the globe. I loved the subjects in this scenario, attended every class and aced the finals. You didn’t have to make me be there because I enjoyed learning and appreciated the costs and opportunity to be there.
I would contend then, McCant’s supposed easy path through academia is equally the fault of the university for offering this alternative as it is his own for accepting. It’s easier to blame the institution that holds your hand at the crosswalk than ask why that hand needs holding – and there are many reasons for this outside of the full-time commitments of student-athletes.
One of the major problems is that our society views high education as an extension of high school. It’s an automatic next step for success. At high school graduation we announce the plans of each student as long as that plan is the name of a university. This should stop. What of our aforementioned art protégé who jumps right into the labor force? She gets no accolade at graduation. But the football player who goes to a state college on scholarship and has a coin flip odds of getting a degree? Congrats to you, sir!
I’m not smart enough to know the answer for what the NCAA should do with its student athletes, if they should pay them or not. I do know there are smarter ways we can tackle the vast expenditure of attending college. It starts with better preparation from the institution – building transparent programs that develop skills for specific career opportunities. For instance, a quick glance at the numbers shows we need to encourage more engineers, which account for the number one most-sought major by employers.
Students should have better access to, and be more willing to accept, the fact that a passion may not make financial sense. Alternately, if a dance student is a bona fide rockstar, she should graduate with a success plan. Let’s bring in people who have done what you want to do, let’s project where the job market is and will be and let’s give you five career alternates for which you can transfer these skills. That’s a start, at least.
Proper goal setting should also be improved from within the home. For athletes, it should be the shared responsibility of the player, coach, parent and institution to balance expectations of the student and of the athlete. It pains me most of all when the parents fail.
I coached a basketball team of 8-10 year olds this past winter. My assistant coach berated the players as often as possible and was particularly hard on his (black) son. After one game, my girlfriend overheard him tell his son, essentially, if he didn’t take basketball more seriously, he wouldn’t attend college. That’s the pressure he faced at age eight. For many black males, this is a reality.
Clearly the academic success of male black athletes deserves our attention. If we’re not going to improve as students and we’re not going to improve as parents (my preference), institutions of higher education take on the burden of being a better influence. We must treat this as a shared responsibility and yes, it's irresponsible for a student to blame his academic failures on the university and his coach. But to simply pander McCants as a snitch or a liar sidesteps a conversation of real consequence.
[ Editor's note: I know, I know. This is all wrong. Where is 'Run The World (Girls)'? Hear me out: I was listening to Solange 'Losing You' and thought 'Where does this rank in the Knowles Sister catalog'? Would it be one of Beyoncé's Top 10 songs? So I hastily threw together some songs during my lunch break. ]
Y'all this list is perfect.
Second fact: We all love Beyoncé. I love her. Your mom loves her. Even Nathan from freshman English with the rat-tail loves Beyoncé. She has greater crossover appeal than Jamal Crawford. What everyone may not know is that she has a sister who is JUST AS COOL ALMOST. Where Beyoncé paints the future, Solange draws on the past - a hippie love-child heavily influenced by Motown and early R&B.
10. Solange - Sandcastle Disco
This 2009 single is just too playful to leave off - simply more fun than the late Beyoncé contenders. What's that "Telephone'? OH YEAH you're on silent. *Z-snap*
9. Beyoncé - 1+1
First chance I get to point out that in making this list I realized again that Beyoncé just killed her last two records. So many great singles. You might not like this song now, but dammit you will when you're old enough to appreciate the finer things.
8. Beyoncé - Best Thing I Never Had
Another from the adult-contemporary side of Beyoncé. No one would blink if Delilah Rene played a song right after "Candle In The Wind" that features the line "Sucks to be you right now" because Beyoncé.
7. Beyoncé - Why Don't You Love Me
Great midi bass. Great percussion. So instantly relatable. I appreciate that Beyoncé agonizes over the effort it takes to be an individual, with more warmth than Gaga's ACCEPT ME approach and more authenticity than Katy Perry's EVERYONE IS PRETTY agenda.
6. Solange - Losing You
Easily one of the best songs of 2013. Solange's vocals are so rich and patient here.
HALFTIME!
5. Beyoncé - Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)
Honestly these next five songs are flawless. I couldn't argue with any order here. I also WILL argue with anyone who trashes Kanye West specifically because of his bold stance in favor of this song, the video and the cultural impact it had on the entire planet.
Remember in Men and Black when the aliens dance to Will Smith's song? You might recall the aliens made up a new dance routine for this occasion. This means that at some point in the planning process of Earth's takeover, they scheduled choreography time. I say bullshit. If aliens actually did take over and did a dance number in celebration, they'd pick a dance they've been observing over the last half decade. If I'm booking the best odds for that dance, I'm going with 'Single Ladies'.
4. Beyoncé - Halo
Possibly her best vocal performance and a classic melody. Unfortunately the beat sounds like someone eating a Crunch bar.
3. Beyoncé - Love On Top
Beyoncé really shows off her control here. First, she builds the rhythm section at the top, mimicking the forthcoming guitar before calling for the percussion. At the end, she keeps climbing octaves, stretching her range before being faded out, I assume because two more rounds would have been life-threatening.
2. Beyoncé - Crazy In Love
This might be Beyoncé's biggest recording, but it can't be number one because she shares the track with Jay-Z. 'Crazy In Love' holds up remarkably well, despite years of radio play and the line "Got me hoping you'll page me right now."
1. Beyoncé - Irreplaceable
Beyoncé truly embodies this song. Her confidence to say so plainly "You must not know 'bout me" in a radio-friendly ballad tells me she might put herself above the man in this song, but not her listeners; a delicate balance of power and humanity which makes Beyoncé distinctly rare.
Disagree? Let me know! Also, stream this list below:
Two words of dialogue Breaking Bad has used in every season, each time closer to the truth.
Jesse said it’s over after Walt started cooking for Gus. Walt said it to Skyler after he blew up Gus. Walt Jr. said it to Walt after he heard Gus was dead. Hank said it when he cornered Walt in the desert. “It’s over,” said Saul Goodman definitively in the penultimate episode, leaving Walt in a coughing heap. Then it finally felt real. It’s all over, baby blue.
I experienced this two Sundays prior to the Breaking Bad finale, watching one of my favorite bands, reunited for the first and presumably last time. As the set drew closer to the end, my enjoyment of the music was muddled with a damp awareness that the band had six songs left in their living history. And now five. And now four...
Cancer too often also provides this unenviable timetable. When Walt was told it was over, he decided to start over. When he was told he is now starting to die, he started to live – an important and reasonably selfish motive he admitted to in the finale.
Walt brought countless others along on this quest – and left many behind – but it was Jesse who ultimately shared Walt’s new timetable. Throughout the series, Jesse found himself closest to death when he wasn’t participating in the one thing that defined living for Walt - cooking meth. Times like this and this and this and this occurred during “it’s over” periods of non-production. You could argue that Walt’s pursuit of life also kept Jesse alive.
The circumstances of this relationship is similar to the great father-son tale of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. The novel is based in the days following an apocalyptic disaster, where a man and his son wander the barren earth, only thinking of and searching for the things that will keep them alive. In a new world where its inhabitants eat each other to stay alive, the father stresses to his young son to “carry the fire”.
Keep a little fire burning; however small, however hidden.
Both protagonists in Breaking Bad and The Road, the ones in desperate search of life, die in the third act. By that point, their death is less meaningful than A) the influence each has had on the young male and the void he leaves behind and B) the symbolic death of fiction and the void it leaves behind.
Like Walt, by the series’ finale, we too can admit to selfishness. Fans of the show kept that fire burning, and yes, it was small and it was hidden. The show’s fourth season finale – the gripping piece of television ending with Gus being blown to bits - was watched by 1.9 million viewers. That number feels very small when you consider last night’s episode of NCIS was viewed by 19.33 million people.
It may be silly to compare watching a television show to cooking meth or not being eaten, but I’m telling you: the suspense, the writing, the cinematography, the acting, the fan community of Breaking Bad all made me feel alive.
“I did it for me. I liked it. I was good at it. And, I was really... I was alive.” – Walter White.
It was with great fervor that I booked a trip to Chicago this weekend to see The Replacements, the legends in the flesh, at Riot Fest. Before reuniting a few weeks prior at Toronto's Riot Fest, the band had not played a live show since 1991 when the band famously broke up in Grant Park, Chicago. At that show, the members left the stage one by one and let roadies take over at their respective instruments. By the last song the band on stage was literal to their name.
So too, it seems, that fans of the band replace Paul Westerberg's lyrics with their own intensely specific context. "Androgynous" puts me in Manchester, at age 20, grocery shopping for one. "Bastards of Young" I clung to for days after the passing of a high school friend. I have similar relations with the shimmering feedback bridge in "Left of Dial", the trumpet blasts in "Can't Hardly Wait" and the unapologetic vulnerability of "Hold My Life".
The second, and equally grand, appeal of The Replacements is that they ushered in a grandfather influence to a host of artists to which I most relate. It's no accident the Minneapolis Star Tribune's headline for Sunday's performance reads "The Replacements hold steady at Chicago's RiotFest".
It is with this shared weight of anticipation and damp socks from the day's cold rain that we gathered for the last show at Riot Fest, expecting rust, if not gold. And then Westerberg, Stinson and company walked out with guitars.
The band roared through their jukebox of hits with the sound (a key variable at outdoor festivals) as one neighbor described it, "like listening to a headphone feed of the mix-board." They smashed early cuts at the top of the set, not breaking the seal on Tim until song 16 and closing the night with 7 tracks from the classic record. We heard "Can't Hardly Wait" into (jaw drops) "Bastards of Young" into (this is when I died) "Hold My Life". I laughed when I saw the grown man beside me also covertly dabbing at his eyes.
I didn't learn anything new from Riot Fest. The Replacements aren't simply a band I like; they're a band I'm like. The performance Sunday was affirmation that this is a very, very good thing.
“Do you wanna see it?”
Riot Fest is a pretty absurd music festival. Picture this original pitch: "Okay boss, so I have an idea for a HUGE punk festival. I know - I know! Punk is dead, right? No matter. We'll call up old punk dudes like Flag and Danzig, we'll cash in on the whiny shit like Taking Back Sunday and Fall Out Boy...I'm pretty certain every broad likes Joan Jett and Blondie, right boss? aaaand what the hell let's put DeVotchKa on the bill! Oh and here's the kicker: we'll make it carnival themed!"
Somehow it worked. When the music option was Sublime or Atmosphere, I went to a tent and watched a sideshow of sword-swallowers and dogs with little hats. When the beer accelerated my confidence, I paid $5 to clang three basketballs off a rigged carney rim. When I needed a place to enjoy an elephant ear, I slid onto the bleachers for Mexican wrestling. And eventually I found time to see Guided By Voices.
About that Blink 182 disaster
I realized on the plane to Chicago, that I completely missed the window to be a Blink 182 fan. I realized on the plane back that I'm okay with that.
Don't get me wrong, I love Enema of the State, but I stopped listening to Blink when I was 18 and now just got back into the band. That 18-25 demo is who really should be listening to Blink 182. With hyper self-awareness, Blink details the struggle of tucking a shirt into slacks when your pockets are full of dick jokes. It's a tale as old as time. Even in 2013, nobody loves you if you're a male at age 23. It was in that context of sensibility which set the Blink crowd predictably at odds with the reflective nostalgia associated with other acts. It effectively brought out the stupid.
I was all kinds of jazzed to see Blink. I would know 90% of the set, something I could say about only about 5 bands at the festival. Travis Barker might be my first pick in a rock band fantasy draft. So I watched the band that played before them, Rancid, then moved up close to the stage and waited an hour for their show to start. In that time I sacrificed seeing an act like Violent Femmes, who apparently had a killer show. But I was close. Like ten yards from the stage close.
The crowd around me was young. Lots of girls. Lots of boys making fun of the girls because that's how you flirt before you've seen Annie Hall. One girl with a bow tried to get the crowd to sing her favorite Blink songs, failed, then joined in for an excruciating sing-a-long of "Bohemian Rhapsody". Yeah, you get the picture.
We're packed like sardines, the band comes out, I see them for a second and then the wave comes. Suddenly my body is crunched and being swept from side to side. "Feeling This" is the song. Kids are falling. I'm literally stepping on a body. Girls are screaming. The one with the bow has passed out. Me and another guy lift her limp body up to be crowd surfed to safety. She moves forward a few feet then drops. My shoe laces have both become untied, making it increasingly harder to stay upright and keep my shoes. "What's My Age Again?" is the song. It's either the second or third song. I help lift three more girls up above the mosh pit, then, facing the stage, backstroke away, leveraging those behind me with my elbows and propelling them forward. "Rock Show". I'm finally at a part of the crowd that's standing still, but I turn and keep moving back. I'm drenched in sweat, coughing, my shirt is stretched and torn. I look like death and several people advise me to "take care". "Miss You" plays and I curse the band. I left Humboldt Park and hear the start of "Dumpweed". Great song. Six people were taken to the hospital.
That should cover it
Quickly, a couple final notes. For a punk festival, The Cure oddly made multiple appearances. Dinosaur Jr. and AFI each covered "Just Like Heaven", the first emphatically barking the "YOU" in the chorus and the latter drawing surprisingly true to Robert Smith's pitch. Then during "Swinging Party" midway through The Replacement's set, Westerberg asked "Can you lose that Cure thing?” before stomping on his guitarist's pedal to cut the reverb.
And finally, for a circuitous, 6-degrees exercise that will only interest me: Raleigh's annual Hopscotch Fest hosts two plaza shows, one usually with a rock headliner, the other rap/pop. At the 2013 fest, the rock headliners, The Breeders, opened their set with a cover of Guided By Voices' "Shock In Gloomtown". The Breeders' front-woman Kim Deal just recently retired as the bassist for the The Pixies, who headlined Riot Fest and covered "Head On" by The Jesus and Mary Chain. The Hopscotch rock headliners in 2011 and 2012? Guided By Voices and The Jesus and Mary Chain.
I'm still recovering from this last week's episode of Breaking Bad and the sobering realization that we're closer to the finale. Part of the hangover centers on Aaron Paul's performance in "Confessions" and the mind-blowing possibly that it was the best single-episode acting performance of the series. I'm now debating if Paul is the best actor on the show. Is that crazy?
I went to the biggest fan of Breaking Bad I know, my buddy Jeremy Hyler, and asked this exact question. Because the cast is crowded with fine acting performances, we decided to do a five-round fantasy draft of Breaking Bad actors. Jeremy gets the first pick. Going with Cranston or Paul?
Last Sunday's ep was intense. It was great, all-around powerful performances. I'm still picking Cranston.That hug, the lies, that video tape etc. amazing.
Paul has really become a great actor. Hank has also made huge changes, which is awesome. I noticed those who are resistant to change are the one who die. So who do you pick?
Ryan
That video tape scene was chilling. Cranston out of focus, emphasizing to Hank that this (again) was no longer Walter White he was seeing...someone he recognized, but a hazy representation.
Okay in our draft I'm taking Paul with my first pick. Did you know Jesse was originally supposed to die in the first season? He acted his way into the role of 1-b to Cranston's 1-a. (Have an A-1 day!). Hank's cop buddy Gomez was also supposed to die in season one.
I'm not even sure Paul's performance translates to future acting success. He'll always be Jesse. Reminds me of a rich man's Dominic Monaghan's Charlie on LOST.
Okay your pick.
Jeremy
Hank. This is his season to shine. And he's changed from bumbling Gomez to full on great detective, but flawed. His gun shot was his cancer.
Ryan
Good pick. Great point. I think he's actually digressed this season as a cop. Had he gone right to the APD with his suspicion, they would have had less evidence, but more time to hold Walter White and uncover the money/suppliers/etc.
But: time works in Heisenberg's favor, not Hank's. I couldn't believe Marie's cold insistence that Walter kill himself and suggest it was the only thing that could kill his demon. But that's not in Heisenberg's nature. Maybe Walter, but there is so little (if any) Walter left. I could see Jesse killing himself, though less likely than...Hank. Hank is poisoned. Marie thought he had a heart attack as a result of Hank realizing Walter is Heisenberg. Imagine the extremes Hank would go to to clean himself of the incompetence he's shown as a cop (his OWN brother-in-law, this whole time!). Hank is a prideful man and he may decide if he's not doing it well, he just shouldn't do it at all.
My second pick is of course the chicken man Giancarlo Esposito. Frightening and delicately graceful. Few actors could play Gustavo Fring.
Jeremy
My next choice would be Skyler. In many articles they say she is the only equal that Walt has even though his mind games are there, she is his ultimate foil, and could either keep him afloat or bring him down. And she has done a great job for 3 seasons.
Who's next for you?
Ryan
She really was a weak part of the show for a while (the Beneke affair I could care less about). In truth, before the last three seasons the female characters were quite static. Walter may be the one who knocks, but Skyler wears the pants (a. because those pants know way too much and b. Cranston apparently prefers to be pantless).
I'm going with Saul Goodman (Mr. Bob Odenkirk). Pretty amazing the role he's created for an actor best known for silly comedies. In the last episode, as he advised Jesse, I thought "That awful green shirt and red tie combo is SO Saul". Not sure what's more striking, from an outfit perspective: Marie's purple wardrobe or Saul's blinding mismatching.
Also when Jesse stormed in his office, Saul's ruffled hair and bloody lip looked an AWFUL lot like Hitler...just me? Okay, fine.
Jeremy
LOL.
Ryan
BETTER CALL HITLER
Jeremy
I'm going with Mike. He may be the only dead character I pick but he was a tough ass hard shit.
Ryan
Dammit I wanted Mike.
I'm going with Lydia Rodarte-Quayle. Her twitching and fast-talking makes her sketchier than the hardest end users (yes, I'm talking about you, Skinny Pete). Loved when Skyler told her to fuck off in the first episode of this half season. Two businesswomen in the drug game just tryin' to be good moms.
Jeremy
Walt, Skyler, Hank, Mike and Todd, the polite killer with an army of Nazis.
That's my team.
Ryan
DAMN!
Jeremy
I think my team is solid lol. So who's your final pick?
Ryan
Okay I really want to go sympathetic. Maybe Badger or Walt Jr. or Gale or Jane? Ooo Jane...Nope. Give me Tuco. That guy was fucked up. "Tight tight tight!" Terrifying...
Okay so I'm Jesse, Gus, Saul, Lydia and Tuco. Ha! I'd watch that show.
Jeremy
I would have gone with DING DING DING DING!
Ryan
This draft made me extra sad it will be over soon. Also extra sad Jane is no longer in my life. RIP Jane. RIP Breaking Bad.
I just watched a video of a bear vs monkey bicycle race and they collide and at first it looks like the bear is giving the monkey a hug because they are old circus friends but no he is eating him.
Maybe the modern version of introspection is the sum total of all those highly individualized choices that we make about the material content of our lives.
Malcolm Gladwell and other cultural mavens on how we shape ourselves through brands. (via explore-blog)
Just in from Qatar - Durham's "Smoffice" takes global Chamber prize in the World Chambers Congress "Most Unconventional Economic Development Project" competition.
I'm not a religious person, but heaven came up twice this weekend.
The first, derived from the "party" "game" Cards Against Humanity. One of the cards was "72 virgins". I never understood why someone would want to kill themselves in order to have the unverified "privilege" of "entertaining" 72 virgins. In the event there is an afterlife and you are greeted by 72 young (I'm assuming), frightened (I'm assuming), untrained girls, which one do you choose first? The most confident one?
"Hi I'm Tania. I've been waiting my whole life for you - err - I mean afterlife haha. Aw geez, I only had one line to memorize and I messed up! Anyways, where should we go? That cloud looks kwel!"
Gross.
The second instance of heaven came from a friend traveling overseas. I had previously told her I love people-watching and specifically people-watching at airports. She kindly let me know I would have thought I'd died and was "in heaven" at this particular airport, what with the variety of peoples passing through.
In my response I quoted Belinda Carlisle, in that my uncertainty of the afterlife (note: not a renouncement), leads me to believe "heaven" as an individual's utopia may as well be a place on earth. I can't possibly imagine something better than the best of what I already know to be true. Maybe my heaven is an airport.
Wilco and Billy Bragg's Airline to Heaven pulls in my own LOST-ian flight approach to the afterlife:
Take that airline plane / It'll take you home again / To your home behind the skies
"Heaven is whenever/ We can get together." - The Hold Steady
"Heaven is a place on earth with you / Tell me all the things you want to do." - Lana Del Rey
"And heaven is your eyes when they're always blue / And heaven is just right here with you." - OMD
"Heaven is a girl I know so well / She makes me feel good when I feel like hell. " - Def Leppard
"And love is all that I need / And I found it there in your heart / It isn't too hard to see / We're in heaven." - Bryan Adams
"Heaven, heaven is a place / A place where nothing, nothing ever happens." - Talking Heads
"Why can't I see that you're so good for me / You are my heaven" - No Doubt
"Imagine there's no heaven / It's easy if you try." - John Lennon
"And when I go there / I'll go there with you / It's all I can do. " - U2
"When you're lying here in my arms / I'm finding it hard to believe / We're in heaven." - DJ Sammy
"You / Soft and only / You / Lost and lonely / You / Just like heaven." - The Cure
"For when the time we have now ends / And when the big hand goes round again / Can you still feel the butterflies?" - Jimmy Eat World
"Turn around one more time / Heaven ain't hard to find." - 2Pac
Yep. Thanks 2Pac. Rest In Peace...wherever that is.
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