Day Nine

There is a building on this fair campus known as the Rec.  This is the building that all students refer to quite often.  It is, apparently, a magical place. 

Now, of course, I myself have not seen any of this magic.  I have only heard of it from others.  They use it as if mere mention of this building has meaning beyond what is normally invested in a building.

It’s used by guys: “Yeah.  I’ve been going to the Rec.” Also generally accompanied by a flex.

It’s used by girls: “Just got back from the Rec! #fitness #workingout #abs”

It’s even used by squirrels. “Squeekatisqueek squeek squeekers.”  (Yes, I do speak squirrel)

What is the power of this mention?  How is it that if the recipient to this phrase cannot also say he, or she, or it, has been to the Rec, there is a feeling of failure and possible weakness?

To investigate this phenomenon, I decided to venture into this legen—wait for it—dary building myself.

Upon immediate entry, nothing outstanding met my eyes.  But then this was only the lobby.  One could not expect anything more than a few sweaty guys with bulging arm muscles.

I move on into the weight room.  Nothing spectacular there either.  A lot of machines, a lot of dudes, a few girls.  There was a commotion over by one of the bench presses, so I made my way over.  It was a rather large fellow pressing, or rather attempting to press, 500 pounds.  He completed one, much to the delight of his friends.  I reached over, did the same with one hand and walked away.  As I said, nothing spectacular to see there.

I then made my way into the gym where there were numerous games of basketball going on.  I thought that perhaps there might be something extraordinary here, however I was disappointed.  So I slammed a few in and continued on my way.

Upstairs I found a track.  There were a few runners going around and I joined them.  Again they were sadly lacking.  I lapped each of them at least five times before leaving.  Also upstairs I found a few racquet ball courts.  I grabbed a racquet and proceeded to demolish a player in a game, 15-0. 

I had begun to notice a silence that followed me every time I left an area, but nothing else in any way stood up to the reputation of this place. 

Downstairs in the basement I found the game room with pool, shuffle board, foosball, and ping pong.  All wonderful games that apparently no one other than myself had any skill at. It took me all of five minutes to defeat any comers. 

I left the building feeling completely justified in my opinion.  The Rec has no magical properties and the activities contained therein, while entertaining, serve no practical purpose.

Humor

Day Two

I find the method of social interactions for this beginning stage to be most interesting.  Here is a short example of how these conversations generally go.  I shall be using a student of the same gender for this example.

I approach. “Greetings, I am Michael.”

He turns with a grin. “Oh hey!  I’m James.”

We proceed to shake hands.

I instigate conversation. “Where are you from, James?”

James replies with enthusiasm. “I’m from California.”

I make note of the difference in geography. “Oh.  Then this is a rather large change for you, yes?”

He agrees and notes the change of weather. “Yeah.  We get into the hundreds in California, but not regularly like this.”

Short pause.

He attempts to keep the conversation alive. “So where you from?”

I attempt to assist his attempt. “I am from a small town, approximately an hour and a half from here.”

He is running out of ideas. “Okay, cool.  What’s your major?”

I reply. “I am studying Creative Writing.”

He has no interest in the subject.  “Really?  That’s pretty cool. Haven’t heard that one yet.”

I reply with the expected question. “What are you studying?”

He returns with the average answer. “I’m in business.”

I attempt to compliment it. “Very nice.”

He is out of ideas. “Yeah.”

Long pause.

He finds a way to escape the conversation. “Oh hey!  There’s some other person I’ve never met before.  Gotta go.  Nice meeting you.”

That is what is considered to be correct conversation at this stage in the “college experience”, as it is called, and that is the majority of all conversation.  However, if one is very lucky, one might find a kindred spirit with whom one has enough in common to strike up a relationship.  And I believe that it is a saying that it is not the quantity, but the quality that matters.

Day One

I have arrived in a strange new world. 

This is, as I understand, considered the next phase of life in this culture.  The next step in a great journey.  However, it almost appears to be a step backward in the evolutionary cycle.  For this place could be mistaken as an advanced incubator.  Advanced in the fact that all who come here are given the illusion of independence, when really they are still closely monitored, directed, and overall controlled.  These inhabitants—called “students” to further the deception—accept it all.  They even pay to be here and most extravagantly at that.

As far as I can tell, the student is in a constant state of dependence.  From the moment it—I shall use “it” in order to maintain an unbiased distance from the observed—leaves the womb it is utterly helpless.  For the first four or five years of its life it remains attached to its mother, creating the most horrific noise if separated from her for any lengthy period of time.  Then it is taken and placed in a controlled environment with others of its kind in order to develop its mental faculties.

 For the next ten years or so it floats through various levels of “education”, apparently climbing higher on the ladder, until it is thrown into a vicious arena full of its peers ready to tear its identity apart.  If, by some miracle, it survives that pot of broiling hormones, it is graced with the title of “adult”.  This title boosts its self-esteem, but in reality means nothing at all. 

At this point it is given a choice.  It can continue in blissful ignorance along the path of education, or it may be thrust without preparation into a harsh world that waits to feast on its flesh.  It chooses the path of ignorance in order to be better prepared for its inevitable doom. 

It is what I am thrown in with now.  I must adapt.  I must become like it in order to survive.  This will be a perilous journey, fraught with many assaults on my intellect and identity, however I will preserve. 

I have entered College, and you are reading the chronicles of my journey therein.