The Brown & White

I'd be perfectly content with being Vanilla Ice for the rest of my life.

No, seriously, it's true. I'd be willing to live with that haircut. I'd be fine with being cool as Ice. I'd even be okay - hell, I'd be proud, really - of "Ninja Rap," from the movie "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze."

Failures and ridicules be damned, I'd love to be in the Ice Man's shoes. For as far as he's fallen in the last 20 years, he still has one glorious crowning achievement to his name: the indelible "Ice Ice Baby."

Because of those four minutes and 32 seconds of poetry ("I'm cooking MCs like a pound of bacon"), Rob Van Winkle beat the system and became, by all accounts, set for eternity.

Sure, he has to live the rest of his days knowing he sucks, but homeboy is still making more money off of that song than I will probably ever see in my life.

I trust that you see where I'm going with this.

I have set a goal for myself: I must write my own "Ice Ice Baby," and I must write it fast.

I am openly admitting on record: I aspire to be nothing more than a one-hit-wonder.

I'd like to write a mindless pop song that is a cultural craze for one month and subsequently becomes an embarrassing afterthought - a punch line that serves as fodder for VH1 shows and a perfect first song on any power hour CD.

I do not desire to be respected in the process, for I will reap tremendous royalties from my song and I will become rich. I will remain financially secure until I die and in the meantime, I can write for a magazine for fun.

Take a moment to revel in my foolproof plan while I elaborate.

I'd really like to make this college thing work, but I'd also really like to not be homeless in five years. I sincerely appreciate and value the education I'm getting at Lehigh, and I intend to try to do something with my degree once I graduate.

But honestly, let's face it, you don't get any bling if you major in journalism.

Would I be happy doing what I love? Yes. But, would I have an elevator and a Starbucks restaurant in my home, à la Tommy Lee? No.

I really want that Starbucks, guys, and I don't even like coffee!

I weighed all of my options, and being a one-hit-wonder seems to make the most sense to me. I've eliminated all other educational alternatives because engineering is way too hard, and business is way too boring.

I've considered relying on winning the lottery, but then I'd just end up losing more money.

So naturally, I came to songwriting - more specifically, the art of writing that one, golden hit. I'm talented enough to write something on par with "Ice Ice Baby," or at least "Crank That" (Soulja Boy is arguably the modern equivalent to Vanilla Ice).

With the Internet being as good as it is in launching faux-careers in a nanosecond, I'm fairly confident I can accomplish my dream.

I've thought about my lack of artistic merit, but that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

If my success leads to my commercial burnout, then at least I will have burned out with money. Really, who needs integrity anyway?

When it all comes down to it, my goal is just another example of everyone's desire to take the easy way out. We're all guilty of it at some time or another.

I'm not really banking on hitting it big with a ballad about Connecticut (it's what I've decided, by the way … you're jealous you didn't think of it first), it's just easier to aspire for quick success than it is to work hard for something.

I'm building all the necessary blocks I need to have to flourish in the professional world. It takes time, and when things turn rough for a minute, we start to look for that easy way out.

But in the end, we're Lehigh students, and we wouldn't be here if we didn't have a tremendous work ethic. I have no doubt things will turn out OK, and that I'll make myself succeed in my career (whatever it may be) after college.

Though it sure would be nice if I could be as cool as Ice.

Andrew Daniels is a sophomore journalism major. He is News Editor for The Brown and White.