It has come to my attention that there’s a whole town for sale in southern Wyoming.

According to an Associated Press report, the town of Buford will be auctioned by the town’s mayor and only resident, Don Sammons. His asking price? A low, low $100,000.

For that cool hundred grand, buyers get themselves a house, gas station, garage, convenience store, school house, cabin and 10 acres of land.

Sammons plans to move out, so the new owner gets a personal ZIP code and full control of the town’s civic government.

Which begs the question: What one man (or woman) could hold all that power? I mean, 10 acres smack on the edge of southern Wyoming, populated by you and only you?

That brings to mind something straight out of “I Am Legend.” Or, given the rural setting, “The Walking Dead” without the mutants, zombies or products of failed genetic experiments.

Sure, as an only child and latchkey kid, running a town all by my lonesome probably wouldn’t be much different from the way I spent my childhood.

But how could a place like that be financially viable? How do you market “The Nation’s Smallest Town” into something worth owning?

One word: paintball.

Seriously, think about it. You’ve got six buildings on 10 acres of land, in the complete middle of nowhere.

You could stick with the “gas station and gift shop” route, or you could turn the town into a literal “Paintball, USA” and fulfill the dreams of high school kids too young to own guns and convicted felons who can’t buy them.

Hell, keep the gas station and gift shop open. Make them part of the live-fire area. Slow people would be moving cover for players.

Of course, my knowledge of paintball is limited to the three paintball-centric episodes of “Community” on NBC (shameless unpaid promotion: Watch it on Thursday nights at 8 p.m.) and the two or three professional paintball games I’ve seen on ESPN2.

But c’mon: What self-respecting mayor wouldn’t want to (literally) paint his own town red?

I’ve got a confession: I don’t look good with a beard.

There. I’m out. I’ve said it.

See, with my face shape (which I’ll describe as “round-y” only because “adorable yet rugged” isn’t actually a shape), I tend to look like a furry oval. It doesn’t help that, at 24, I’m still somewhat patchy, which is a source of shame for me.

I can get two-thirds of the way there, but after that my face starts to resemble something like Chernobyl. Certain spots flourish, while others appear as if the earth has been salted and nothing will ever grow there again.

I’m not a mustache kind of guy either. The ideal mustache hair, of course, is something between the Kentucky Fried Chicken colonel and Burt Reynolds. For me, that spot doesn’t get bushy and manly. Instead, it becomes wispy and long — kind of like low-hanging moss.

I can’t do mutton chops (but who would?), soul patches (again with the moss), circle beards (the sides don’t connect) or anything beyond two days worth of scruff without looking creepy.

Were it not for my trademark chin-blanket goatee , I’d be completely clean-shaven. The goatee exists mostly because I’ve had it since high school and I’m almost certain that the skin under it is now milk-white.

Being clean-shaven would, for the most part, make me unusual among my peers.

Apparently, the resurgence of hipster fashion and the popularity of “no-shave November” has lead to a follicular frenzy among college-age males, and the occasional female with an unfortunate combination of genetics.

I suppose something about the idea of caveman solidarity kicked off these brotherhoods of beards and societies of ‘staches. However, I just don’t see the appeal in making yourself look as if you can’t afford to buy a razor or a sharpened piece of glass.

Sure, I see the benefit of bringing attention to causes such as prostate cancer awareness, which is championed by many advocates of no-shave November.

The idea of people liking me for something other than my raw ruggedness and attention to alliteration is also appealing.

But it doesn’t seem worth the itchiness, the jokes from my family or triggering my girlfriend’s childhood fears of Bigfoot.

Mendez is co-editor in chief of the Aztec Press. He is in desperate need of a new reason.

 Arizona’s assault on education just keeps on coming.

 Less than a week after Gov. Jan Brewer did her best to plug sales of her book by shaking a finger in the face of our president, embarrassing Arizona in the process, a state legislator introduced another law to “fix” Arizona’s educational system.

 Rep. John Kavanagh, R-Fountain Hills, introduced HB 2675. The legislation would force full-time students at Arizona’s universities to pay $2,000 per year toward tuition unless they receive full-ride merit or athletic scholarships.

 If the bill passes, it means you would pay $2,000 of your own money toward tuition if you attend an Arizona university next year. Scholarships given through the university or university-affiliated organizations wouldn’t count, though private scholarships would.

That $2,000 is the minimum. Every following school year would see the amount adjusted by any tuition increases.

 The legislation doesn’t affect community college students, but it would affect transfer students.

On its face, the bill isn’t too awful. At least it makes an effort to lower state liability toward education, thereby saving Arizona money.

 But at a time when every university has raised tuition, most Arizona students would have to take out even larger loans to reach their goal of a four-year degree. That will increase student debt.

 Furthermore, university degrees no longer guarantee high-paying jobs. That makes the proposal even more of a grind.

 Section 6 of the Arizona Constitution reads in part: “The university and all other state educational institutions shall be open to students of both sexes, and the instruction furnished shall be as nearly free as possible.”

 In these times, when dictionaries seem to be in gravely scant supply, some may claim this to be a socialist concept.

 Those folks don’t understand that the concept is fundamental to building a community that is learned enough to find solutions to future problems. Those problems may be solved by engineers, mathematicians or (crossing my fingers here) journalists.

 At the very least, we could educate a few historians. Maybe they’d be able to remind future citizens of the mess caused by voting Republican.

Mendez is co-editor in chief of the Aztec Press.

 We all know America’s economy is at risk. Everywhere we look, we see jobless people.

 The U.S. government is working hard to help the economy recover. How can we as individuals do something about it?

 The answer is to buy products made in America. We have the power in our hands. Isn’t it natural for Americans to support America?

Purchasing products stamped “made in USA” helps American businesses employ U.S. workers. You, your relatives or your neighbors might hold these jobs.

Buying American-made goods also provides safer and higher-quality products.

 In “Building by Buying American,” Roger Simmermaker  writes, “…More American manufacturing jobs not only reduce the unemployment rate, but also expand the tax base to pay for benefits … in doing so, we’ll reduce our trade deficit, support a higher tax base and achieve greater economic growth.”

 Products made in the USA are not always easy to find. Many are made somewhere else, especially China.

When I wanted to buy a crib for my baby, I looked at Target, Wal-Mart, Babies ‘R Us and other stores around town. Not one crib was made in the USA. They were all made in China.

 I did find baby bottles with a big “Made in the USA” sticker on the box. I checked the cost, and was surprised to see a price similar to bottles made in China.

 Wouldn’t it be nice if stores had a “Made in the USA” section?

 Of course, it is difficult to exclusively purchase goods made in America.

 Based on the present market, there would not be many chairs or tables around the house. Many toys and most electronics would be gone. We would have to say farewell to Apple products. Kiss your diamonds goodbye as well.

 Of course, it is up to each individual to make the decision on which products to purchase. Everyone has the right to buy the cheapest goods. The question is, does cheapest occasionally mean inferior?

 My point is: If you see two products with equivalent prices, with one labeled “Made in the USA,” consider buying the American-made option.

Guest essayist Tracy Nguyen is a student at Pima Community College.

Pima Community College’s governing board doesn’t want it. Administrators of Arizona universities and colleges don’t want it. The police departments charged with protecting those institutions don’t want it.

So why on earth do Arizona legislators keep pushing to allow guns on campuses?

For the second straight year, Rep. Jack Harper, R-Surprise, and Sen. Ron Gould, R-Lake Havasu City, have introduced legislation that would allow students and faculty to carry concealed weapons on school property, so long as they hold valid CCW permits.

In comparison to last year’s version, which would allow all gun owners to carry on school property, this new version seems a bit more reasonable.

After all, I’d feel slightly more comfortable knowing that the dude sitting next to me in trigonometry had spent at least one day training in gun safety.

But this legislation, while championing Second Amendment rights, infringes upon not only the will of those most affected by this law, but on common sense.

Over the past years, there has been nothing but opposition from those in charge of our education.

Spokesman C.J. Karamargin said Pima’s stance on the proposed legislation is exactly the same as it was last year: that guns on campus will not make PCC campuses safer.

In fact, Karamargin, said, the college has concerns that guns on campus might have the opposite effect.

PCC’s view is that lawmakers “should listen to the experts,” Karamargin said, referring to the university and college police chiefs who have expressed opposition.

For once, I agree wholeheartedly with the PCC administration.

Lawmakers seem entranced by the wholly American, “Die Hard”-esque fantasy that one average person with a pistol can stop rampaging gunmen.

Gould, in an interview with Phoenix’s ABC-15, claimed the crime rate in Arizona has dropped since adoption of the concealed carry law. He said criminals have been intimidated out of fear of getting shot by bystanders.

That’s all well and good, but many of those involved in campus shootings have turned the gun on themselves once they believed their spree finished. That doesn’t fit the behavior of someone who would be intimidated out of opening fire on innocent people.

Were there to be a shooting on a PCC campus, my fear is that students attempting to defend themselves would only add to the confusion.

Worse, given the stress of the situation and the likely lack of comprehensive training, they might add to the body count with wild firing.

Lawmakers can claim this to be a matter of Constitutional rights, but I view it as one more attempt to force an ideology onto a resisting public.

Mendez is co-editor in chief for Aztec Press. He is not Chelo Grubb’s brother.

During waves of protest that spanned the United States last October, a group of Tucson residents established an occupation inspired by Occupy Wall Street.

I participated in the occupation, both as an activist and as an anthropology student at Pima Community College researching the influence of radical political organizing on contemporary social movements.

As Occupy movements across the country fizzle or change shape, we are left evaluating the strengths and weaknesses of the occupations for agitating for political change.

The movement is often perceived from the outside as directionless, and lacking in the ability to achieve concrete goals.

In a certain sense, this is true: Occupy Tucson was characterized by a lack of concrete political demands. This was true of Occupy Wall Street as well.

News reports generally didn’t give much information that would allow outside observers to understand this feature of the movement.

More sympathetic, liberal commentators sometimes offered a narrative about young idealists who are to be admired for their sincerity while being ignored for their naivety. Other commentators dismissed the movement entirely because it lacked a concrete agenda.

The spectacle of a national political movement without political demands can appear confusing, but it is a mistake to explain this curious fact as a consequence of the particular ideas or character of the occupiers.

Movement structure, more than the qualities of its individual participants, helps to explain the Occupy movement’s distinct lack of articulated reformist goals.

During the time of my participation, Occupy Tucson organized itself through twice-daily general assemblies open to anyone who felt they were a part of the movement. All decisions made within the general assembly were made through a form of modified consensus.

Consensus is a decision-making process designed to arrive at decisions that every member of the group finds acceptable.

Proposals are brought forth, discussed and modified with the goal of arriving at proposals that nobody feels compelled to “block.” Blocks are extreme, irreconcilable disagreements with a proposal. More casual reservations can be expressed by “standing aside” on a proposal.

Consensus models are rooted in principles of non-coercive organization that seek to avoid anyone being compelled to accept a decision with which they cannot agree. Rather than passing resolutions through majority votes, proposals pass consensus when no blocks remain.

This form of direct and grassroots democracy made it unlikely that the movement would produce any demands translatable to the political process of government, based as it is on its ability to force compliance to laws.

Within any Occupation, there is not a single demand or set of demands that represents every individual involved. For any single demand proposed, there would almost certainly be blocks from those who felt unrepresented by it.

This produced a fascinating, contradictory political community.

Many were seeking liberal political goals, but were frustrated by an organizational structure that made it impossible for the movement to express them.

Others were seeking revolutionary social change, but within a larger group committed to avoiding radical overtures in order to maintain a good public image that would help in pressing for legislative reforms.

This conclusion is not necessarily encouraging, for either revolutionary or reformist occupiers. Both tendencies are doomed to endless frustration, blocked at all turns by structural form or opponents within the movement.

It took a discussion with a friend not within the research group, who was back in town after some time spent at the more radically-leaning Occupy Oakland, to remind me that these disagreements need not paralyze or destroy a social movement.

In the best cases, such diversity can be a platform on which to build authentic political strength. At the very least, no meaningful work can begin without first engaging those conflicts.

Guest columnist Patrick Schneeweis is a Pima Community College student.

Activists with Occupy Tucson raise their hands last October to show their consensus for a proposal under discussion

 Since 1995, tens of thousands of people on six continents have used the World Café method at different venues.

 At Pima Community College, Downtown Campus recently held its first Conversations Café as a process that continued for consecutive weeks.

 Although Downtown Campus hosted its first official “Conversations Café,” an exercise that’s constantly practiced by all walks of life, particularly among college students, every seat was taken and every table overflowed with participants.

 The environment was perfectly set at the Downtown Campus patio to depict the setting of a café, which created a hospitable space that evoked a feeling of informality and intimacy – one that allowed for people to feel comfortable to ignite their most creative thinking, speaking and listening.

 Each table was led by a host who engaged the participants in topics important to the general public, such as “What does going green mean to me?”

 I personally took part in a 20-minute, strategized World Café experience. Five individuals, including myself, sat at a table meant for four.

 The table that I sat with represented a diverse group of students that included a range of ages, backgrounds and ethnicities, giving different perspectives on what “going green” meant to each of us.

 We shared different approaches toward preserving Earth but we all consented the common belief that “going green” would further the longevity of our planet.

 Between the five strangers there, we decided that going back to basics might be a potential solution for the problem.

 Milk bottles delivered in glass and not plastic. Diapers made of cloth instead of the modern-day, impossible-to-destroy disposables. Different solutions for automobiles, paper, deforestation and solar energy abounded.

 We also discussed how big cities in the United States would never adopt the tradeoff of odds-and-evens car plates commuting in the city, an action imposed on citizens in Mexico City to alternate between driving and taking the subway every other day.

 We all expressed deep sympathy for the generations to come and how our actions today and neglect towards our environment will harm our kids, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

 A tiny ball stood as a podium where we all had the chance to express our sentiments on the topic. A large piece of butcher paper was used as a place mat to jot down ideas, thoughts and notes.

 Our commitment to democracy is being exercised through events such as the World Café.

 The terrorist attack on Sept. 11, 2001 triggered the United States to declare war on terrorism.

 The Iraq War, also known as Operation Iraqi Freedom, began in March 2003 when troops from the United States, United Kingdom, Australia and Poland invaded Iraq.

The troops toppled the regime of Saddam Hussein in 21 days, but the war continued for nearly nine years.

During that timeframe, U.S. taxpayers spent more than $1 trillion, according to about.com. Some 4,500 American troops and 100,000 Iraqi civilians died during the conflict.

On Oct. 21, President Obama announced the United States will withdraw most troops from Iraq by the end of the year. U.S. soldiers will remain in Afghanistan.

“When I took office, roughly 180,000 troops were deployed in both these wars, and by the end of this year that number will be cut in half,” Obama told the American public. “And make no mistake, they will continue to go down.”

Here is a collection of reactions from Pima Community College students.

Lucas Tellez

History and Arabic major

“It’s interesting, now that we’re in the ninth year in the war already, and it’s finally coming to an end. I’m just kind of wondering how it’s going to play out, and play out in history. Is it going to be compared to Vietnam or will it be compared to something completely different? It’s exciting to see what the president is going to do now, considering we still have Afghanistan. We’re still in other countries and we’ll see how the Middle East will start to play out now. Egypt, Palestine, how Israel is going to play a role and how other countries are going to play a role. And we’ll see how everything’s going to change drastically. So, I’m kind of excited about it. What’s interesting is that it’s changing times. The Middle East is going to be changing big time. Just to see what’s finally going to happen in that country once we’re gone. We’ll finally get to see the result of what happens.”

Fidel Karamege

Political Science major

“At least the country’s not meddling with other people’s business. I don’t think it was OK having America, I’d say, poking their nose into other country’s business. America wanted to help out but to other people, it doesn’t seem like help. We’re thinking we’re helping, but we’re not. To other people, it’s like we’re just getting into their business and blocking them from doing whatever they have to do. We need to allow countries to deal with their problems and kinda know how to figure out their own solutions without having some other people trying to. Sometimes I think this country needs to leave people to the point where they’re asking for help and not offer help.

Matt Hoffman

Music and Digital Arts major

“To me, what about the war in Afghanistan? It seems like it’s just trying to take people’s attention off of the other one. Recently, I heard some military dude on the news say that they’re going to keep the war going until 2014 before they even consider stopping it in Afghanistan. What’s up with that? It seems like this is just to distract people from the other stuff that’s going on, which is pretty messed up. But if people fall for it, I guess it’s their fault too.

Roseshell Wayman

Fashion Merchandising major

“It’s kind of a relief now that we’re out of the country and we can actually relax and focus on ourselves more. I think going into war, [the government] was trying to help but it wasn’t really. We were fighting someone else’s war. It wasn’t really right because they weren’t really learning, but it did help a little bit trying to reestablish their country. I think it is time for the men to come home so they can focus on themselves and their families. It’s time to come home and focus on something else.”

I saw Tucson for the first time at 18. Immature and indignant, I had recently moved from the Bluegrass state to northern Arizona.

My story had been told: impossible youth flees to the fabled west coast. But through California beach towns, Oregon farms and many oh-so-lonesome highways, I found only the desert fierce enough to stop me in my dusty tracks.

I was shaped by the drastically new environments I encountered, and the degrees of change between them. Compared to the soft hills of my home state, the desert was bright and bold.

I remember the stunning lava fields in the snow outside of Flagstaff, like a yin yang the size of a crater. I obsessively inhaled the butterscotch scent in ponderosa pine.

I was immediately captivated by the unyielding stance of the granite in the central mountains, the sheer drama of the Mogollon rim, the way the sharp sun glinted in the eyes of the border town locals.

My imagination unfolded. I took a job restoring hiking trails, allowing me to travel across some of the wilder parts of the state.

Although I worked and played everywhere from ritzy Lake Havasu to the depths of the Grand Canyon that year, it was Tucson and the surrounding desert that began to transform the fury of senseless rebellion.

I saw in the cacti a quiet resistance to a nearly desperate environment. The missing rain, the burning heat, all seemed in opposition to life. The mountain outcroppings of sunbaked rock beckoned no butterflies.

But I began to learn, the saguaro doesn’t long for rainforest. There was no diamond to find in the rough mosaics of stone and lichen.

Within the city of Tucson, I met the same quiet strength. The people, I found, held the same steadfast resilience within them. Their diversity and cooperation appealed to me, as did the ample conflict and friction.

Only in Tucson, compared to the many states and few countries I have visited, do people embrace struggle in such a ready way. People here do not expect lush abundance; there is an understanding that life will not come easily.

With that, people adapt as naturally as any wild desert plant or animal. Instead of concentrating on the way things ought to be, people organize to create something unique and new.

There is so much room in Tucson for expression. Only here, in a place with ironically few natural resources, is the human capital vibrant enough to offer something for anyone trying to make a change.

The art in Tucson reflects an awareness of death and a respect for morality, but not without a toying mockery. It speaks for anyone touched by the desert.

We will die, yes. But first, we will live.

Whether on a trail or in life, it always helps to have someone to guide you on the path. So it is with high school students.

Think back to your high school days. Was there someone who said or did something that inspired you to get on your career or education path?

With all the budget cuts at Pima Community College, the staff members who used to guide students are no longer available to visit high schools and assist with the transition to college.

That’s where you can volunteer to help.

If you are studying engineering, offer to speak to a high-level math class. If you are a member of the Native American Student Association, meet with the Native American students at a high school.

You can choose the high school audience to guide. Anything you do will help— either on a one-time or ongoing basis.

Whether you are a student, staff or faculty member, your voice of encouragement and experience can make a difference to high school students.

There are three messages I believe students need to hear from a variety of sources:

• Education is your gift to yourself. The more education you have, the more likely you will obtain the career that you feel passionately about.

• Take advantage of high school classes— take all you can while you can. That is likely to be the last free education you will have. Don’t slouch and go part time your senior year.

• Make a plan for your education and you career. You can always change it if you change your mind, but having a plan and a path will lead you to success.

So how do you get to speak at a high school? If you went to a local high school, start there.  Contact the counselor there and offer your services.

Join your alumni association and organize an alumni day. For example, at Pueblo Magnet High School, Pueblo Warrior alumni are invited to speak to students at the annual “Si Se Puede” day.

If you did not go to high school in Tucson but want to be a guide, contact me at creeya@comcast.net. I will steer you in the right direction.

Guest essayist Katta Mapes retired last May after 34 years in the Tucson Unified School District. She is now a Pima student.