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Laying down Reality.
The Don Quixote theme was inevitably mixed up with the Mexican culture so close to here- it was just unavoidable. The best decorations were the library placita and the grassy knoll. The grassy knoll became the 'burro corral' with piñatas containing candy, drapes, lights and a hammock hanging from the tree. Blankets, scattered candy and couches were on the lawn. There were pinwheels and real flowers in beer bottles everywhere on campus, crape paper in the trees, and paper chains. The engineering of the windmill on the bell tower was shoddy and they never did get the thing to rotate.
The sophistry contest featured mostly excellent achievements in bullshitting, the highlights being Mr. Isaacs and Mr. Wall on 'Are we secret lovers?' ending in a fake stage kiss and Mr. Carl and Mr. Franks on 'Is James Joyce better than Nietzsche?' Someone even found an 8 year old magician from town that was very good at his gig.
The beer was all from microbreweries in Fort Collins, Colorado. We ever roasted a pig but 160 pounds just wasn’t enough for all those people. The food committee tried so hard, numbers were against them and the sheer amount of preparation wasn’t enough. I saw several small zip lock baggies marked ‘reality’ or ‘alethia’ that were empty going about. You can guess why.
Never did find my @#$%ing duct tape. The packing tape is out, how else was i going to tape myself for Spartan Mad ball protection? I took many Polaroids and messed with the emulsion- you can really display the emotion and direct the attention because of it. Red Bull helped us in the game against freshman who were wearing chainmaile and wrist guards and seniors who, though a valiant effort, we sophomores and juniors completely thrashed 3-0. The means kicked some extremes ass. Don't know if some of the boys left all the battle on the field or not. We were all smeared with face paint, blood and grass by the end and we popped 2 balls before the game was over. I chipped a tooth, only slightly thankfully, and it was unrelated to the ball game. My nose was bloodied by someone else while I deflecting the ball. Spitting bile at people really works to deter them. I achieved my personal goal of several flying tackles and field runs. There was one hospitalization- a good friend, we still don't know how badly.
Many Jello wrestling matches happened in 25 gallons of melted red jello and far less scrapes than last year's mud. These lovelies were wonderful accompaniment to the affair. For some reason the guys wouldn't try to pants one another, and when one did the other went ballistic yelling death threats at him. I was the only girl that didn’t get her bra pulled off in the pit, some girls just went right for the bra as if that was the point of wrestling. More girls wrestled than guys, and no senior guys did. Some of the bouncers from work were there with the band. I can't do anything in this town without every acquaintance finding out.
Many friendly graduates and hangers on returned to participate. Though five, yes FIVE, bands cancelled on us, we managed to entertain with the music left. There was rolling in the hay with bundles of it on the placita. I got Phish Food and local Honey and they ordered over 50 Pizzas. The mattress i dragged in front of the music stage proved useful as the crowd sang and bounced to the Karaoke band of old pimpadelic groovy guys, after St. John’s token bleeding heart senior band finished their set. Oh, and the mariachi band was impressive. In the very dry heat, I’m glad nothing (and no one) caught on fire. Once again- “water is wet, fire is hot, you can’t fly.”
last modified May 20, 2003 at 16:45
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