COLUMN: The annonymous faces I see around campus
It’s 9:25 Monday morning. I’m walking along the Quad on my way to accounting class, and I’m laughing. Out loud, in fact, to the point where it’s becoming irrational.
Normally this part of my day puts me in a bit of a droning stage – a mix of morning fatigue and hideously bad breath mainly formulated from my normal triumphant breakfast of Jack Links beef jerky and a three-day-old bottle of Mountain Dew – but this morning I can’t seem to hold any composure.
Why such a change of heart at such an unholy hour? My inner reasoning says there are two reasons.
First, I just remembered I added “Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It” on my Zune for no apparent reason, signified by “Ah yes, yes y’all. Ya don’t stop, in the winter or the SUMMA TIME!” blaring into my ears.
On the other elbow, I feel as though my solitary gut-busting stems more from my own personal view of fellow campus mates in their pursuits to classes, jobs and various Digimon tournaments. The stories I’m forming from everything around me are purely riveting.
I’m amazed at the consistency of it all. Pick any given day and you can bet your bottom checking account transaction you’ll see the same types of bystanders en route to somewhere. You faithful footers – the old reliables of the information age – you bring to life the spirit and camaraderie that is a college campus. We, in myriad ways, owe you our personal respect for the special elements you build for our institution. A moment, if I may, to honor just a few of them.
To the panic-stricken student who is always running, and always tardy, to an exam, thank you. You give us the ever-needed confidence that any person can make up for mistakes, whether they be felony charges, or simply sleeping in after a long night of watching an entire season of “Chuck.”
You show us that no matter the distance that need be run or the size of the backpack – which in your case is of the “unfathomably huge” genre – there is always a way to make it through life, one thunder-thigh-pumping stride at a time.
Thank you, sophomore in ag science who still attempts to ride his bike to class in January. A perservering soldier you are. In a world of snow falling by the foot and slow-moving trains of pedestrians shuffling – not walking, mind you – in their boots with the hideous-looking fur, you rise above conformity and put the foot – or, for your sake, the pedal – down. No clogged walkway can be your demise, no Aggie Shuttle route your tragic fate. For you know two things: how to perform rectal palpatations on livestock, and the screaming truth that only champions have saddle sores in the winter.
A shout out to you, dude who is always yelling a reference from “Hot Rod” to a roommate leaving the library on the far end of the sidewalk. Though we can’t confirm if it’s the movie line or you wearing chucks, no socks and man-pri’s in sub-zero weather, know inside we are all laughing along with you.
Thank you, always-clogs-up-pathways-by-chatting-with-someone-at-the-Quad-by-the-Eccles-Conference-Center guy. Actually, on second thought, we don’t thank you. You’re a nuisance. Start hoofin’ it, bro, or there’s a wedgie coming your way.
Thank you, random girl who gives me a quick wave every time I walk by the ESLC. I still have no idea how you know who I am, but your Delta High Cross Country hoodie tells me you’re a nice person, and I appreciate your warmth. If I wasn’t so positive you were listening to Gnarls Barkley on your iPod, I might actually find the common decency to talk to you someday, so chin up.
And finally, to the man who resembles every 1980s, coming-of-age, college movie professor in the history of cinema, we give you our solemn gratitude. Whether you teach philosophy or some form of western civilizations history, you maintain the surging talent of looking too intelligent for any human’s good while keeping wool sweater vests in style.
Your beard, shaggy while still perfectly groomed, is your badge of superiority – the captain cloth-piece of a winning team, along with your mahogany loafers and tan corduroy sport jacket. You bring to life the Mr. Feeney’s and the teacher guy from Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s in us all.
Though you always look peeved by the “young rock stars with their flyin’ machines” surrounding you, we look to you for hope, for guidance, and in most cases for extra credit. I may never live to be much like you, or possibly ever learn what the heck “western civilizations” means, but I thank you for keeping the comforting world of the cliche alive.
And for all the others who make my walk through campus a joy, my humble thanks. Now I’m off to watch “Wild Wild West.” This Will Smith kick is gonna have me going all week.
– steve.schwartzman@aggiemail.usu.edu