Saturday, June 11, 2005
Great
"...doesn't the mystique of Dinkytown sort of disappear when you live there?" - Tone
It was never about the mystique of the place. Today I hopped down to the Purple Onion, grabbed a cold press, and went about my way.
Before I left, the deliverance song was "Public Pervert" by Interpol.
Once I got to the campus, I took out my mallet and struck an end on the hollow abstract metal statue above Williamson Hall. The tone of the bell-like vibration was pleasing. Then I went into the Northrup and worshipped the stage amongst people tearing down the Eden Prairie graduation set.
On my way out, I yelled, "OH BABY OH YEAAAHHHH!!!" to a bus full of bewildered high school graduates on their way to food and fornication. "Thank you very much sir, you have a wonderful night sir!" I bowed. We shared rock and roll signs with our fingers, and Kiss tongues with our mouths. Party on indeed.
The library was closed, and its employees smoked on the outside. I went to the Washington Avenue bridge with my "To Truth" paper airplane in hand. I tried writing more than that but my pen ran out of ink.
I tossed it off the side. It had a nice glide for a moment, and then took a rapid spiral into the water.
I dared myself to walk home in lieu of the disgusting humidity.
Today I got a $1000 scholarship! My mother thought that it wasn't that much, and more of a symbolic gesture. My grandmothers were insanely excited. I personally think that it's simply a sign to do even better. And it is a lot of money. I'm bloody honored!
Ironically and most unfortunately, they put an end to the school that admitted me into the University of Minnesota today. The Board of Regents voted 11-1 to strategically reposition what I felt was a great place. A place that accepted me and my B- high school average, and then helped turn me into something else. The old General College will be missed, and its coherent mission will be missed even more.
It was never about the mystique of the place. Today I hopped down to the Purple Onion, grabbed a cold press, and went about my way.
Before I left, the deliverance song was "Public Pervert" by Interpol.
Once I got to the campus, I took out my mallet and struck an end on the hollow abstract metal statue above Williamson Hall. The tone of the bell-like vibration was pleasing. Then I went into the Northrup and worshipped the stage amongst people tearing down the Eden Prairie graduation set.
On my way out, I yelled, "OH BABY OH YEAAAHHHH!!!" to a bus full of bewildered high school graduates on their way to food and fornication. "Thank you very much sir, you have a wonderful night sir!" I bowed. We shared rock and roll signs with our fingers, and Kiss tongues with our mouths. Party on indeed.
The library was closed, and its employees smoked on the outside. I went to the Washington Avenue bridge with my "To Truth" paper airplane in hand. I tried writing more than that but my pen ran out of ink.
I tossed it off the side. It had a nice glide for a moment, and then took a rapid spiral into the water.
I dared myself to walk home in lieu of the disgusting humidity.
Today I got a $1000 scholarship! My mother thought that it wasn't that much, and more of a symbolic gesture. My grandmothers were insanely excited. I personally think that it's simply a sign to do even better. And it is a lot of money. I'm bloody honored!
Ironically and most unfortunately, they put an end to the school that admitted me into the University of Minnesota today. The Board of Regents voted 11-1 to strategically reposition what I felt was a great place. A place that accepted me and my B- high school average, and then helped turn me into something else. The old General College will be missed, and its coherent mission will be missed even more.
Jean-Louis 1:36 AM
1 Comments:
Congrats on the money.
I heard a rumor that the Purple Onion was going to close after this next year. But then where will the ghostly memories of gunships and spaceboats dwell? (long live homoerotic cartoon men!)
I heard a rumor that the Purple Onion was going to close after this next year. But then where will the ghostly memories of gunships and spaceboats dwell? (long live homoerotic cartoon men!)
