There’s been a lot of talk lately about the next Reveille, with people arguing for everything from another collie to a shih tzu. While I think the debate fosters some healthy questions, I am afraid that it has not gone far enough. It’s time we think outside the box.
Now, adopting a mutt from the pound may go some way toward showing the inclusiveness of the Aggie Spirit, but we’re still being ridiculously exclusive. I mean, there’s a whole wide world out there. If we really want to show the diversity and open-mindedness of Aggieland, we should choose a first lady from a less privileged species.
Far be it from me to value one creature over another, but I have compiled a list of what I believe to be promising candidates for the position of first lady of Texas A&M, based on practicality, originality and all-around awesomeness:
Reveille VIII, the ferret. A lady ferret is an excellent choice for several reasons. Firstly, black footed ferrets are indigenous to the great state of Texas, meaning we’ll have a native in office instead of an inbred – I mean – purebred foreigner. Furthermore, a ferret not only could continue the tradition of biting her handler in the groin as started by Reveille VII, but could actually improve upon the practice by running up his pants leg to do so. Plus, ferrets are trainable, meaning Reveille VIII could do this on command to opposing coaches and players. Nothing says “Redass” like a rabid weasel removing hippies from the gene pool. While these are definitely persuasive arguments, what really cinched it for me was ferrets’ natural abilities against bovines. According to various urban rumors, packs of feral ferrets are capable of tipping, killing and devouring an entire cow. While I can’t speak to the veracity of these claims, I can guarantee you it’ll give Bevo some sleepless nights.
Reveille VIII, the parakeet. Small, portable, stylish and capable of actually learning and repeating the Aggie War Hymn, as well as cussing out referees at games. She could even be taught to bark in class.
Reveille VIII, the houseplant. This approach has many possibilities: a stoic, contemplative bonzai tree, festive palms or even local flora like the humble-yet-delicious-when-used-to-barbecue mesquite, which would lend itself quite nicely to our rivalry with that other school. Many people may claim that a plant is too static and boring to successfully represent a university, but what about the Century Tree? One of our school’s greatest and most respected images is a plant, so choosing a mascot outside of the animal kingdom doesn’t seem such a stretch to me. I personally favor the idea of something custom created for the position. We are, after all, an agricultural school. If we can manage to genetically engineer maroon-colored carrots, then a gigantic Fightin’ Texas Aggie maroon-colored t-sip-chomping Venus fly trap can’t be all that hard to make. While a 12-foot-tall immobile man-eating plant may require a little more care than previous Reveilles, she already has her own cell phone and student ID card. Would a personal vehicle and a few sacrificial virgins every now and then be too much to ask for our first lady? I think not. For the record, though, I wouldn’t try proposing under it.
Reveille VIII, the Fightin’ Texas Aggie Galapagos Tortoise. This is definitely one of the most alluring suggestions I have heard so far. Nothing can quite capture the majesty, tradition, history and permanency of Aggieland like this quiet giant, slowly lumbering its way to the opposing end zone. While certain traditions might need to be slightly modified (instead of getting class off if Reveille barks, you’ll get class off if Reveille moves), I believe the pros vastly outweigh the cons. Natural armor would make the first lady virtually impossible to assassinate (which is much more of a risk than you would think, what with all those packs of feral ferrets and everything). Plus, our mascot could double as another statue – two for one! Best of all, as several of my colleagues pointed out, choosing a Galapagos Tortoise for Reveille VIII means we won’t have this debate again for another 150 years.
James Cavin is a sophomore English major.