My Favorite Moment of Sophomore Year

A year ago I got the writing itch and decided to start a blog. My first post detailed the top five moments of my freshman year -- a compilation of events and memories that defined my first year in college. Heading into this summer, I fully planned on returning to the format and creating my list for sophomore year. I even started writing the post, getting through moments 4 and 5 before becoming increasingly bored and letting it sit around for awhile. Six weeks later, I tried to return to finish the post and couldn't do it. Something felt wrong and I quickly realized the reason why: I wasn't doing these moments enough justice with little 300 word write-ups that were brief summaries at best. Instead, I went to work on writing about my favorite moment of sophomore year in a little more depth than usual.

(Sidenote: the runner-up this year was Halloween weekend and, specifically, the Friday night of Halloween weekend. I came to the conclusion that Halloween is off-limits for this post in the future because, let's be honest, dressing up and celebrating is too much of a fun time to not be memorable. This year's Halloween spawned "Lonely Pokey" in which a too-drunk Derek, dressed in a Pokey costume, aimlessly meandered around the party we were at to the point that he looked incredibly sad and lonely. Trust me, it was hilarious. Our group, consisting of Bert and Ernie, Pokey and Gumby, and myself in gangster attire, then invaded an empty Geo's basement and started an awesome dance party, prompting the eccentric DJ to say, "It's like watching Saturday morning cartoons on acid!" Only three months until Halloween 2011!)

My favorite moment of the year was actually an entire day, the penultimate one of the school year for me. The day was the spiritual sequel to Picture/Jersey Night (yes, that night is important enough to be a proper noun from here on) in that we knew we had a limited time together before we went our separate ways for the summer. In fact, it was the last day the core group of us were together. Luckily, we were gifted an entire day to fill with engaging activities, and we did just that.

I had my car in the campus area for the past month, which opened up some avenues for us in terms of the scope of our adventures. Since I was parked in the Kappa parking lot, we made some idle chatter with our friend Molly before Derek, Brian, Jeff, Jack and myself piled into my tiny Mustang to embark on a journey to find a bowling alley. Unsurprisingly, the nicer bowling alleys were located in obscure places or were closed in the daytime, so we figured the Illini Union was a safe bet. After a pleasant round of bowling, we ventured to the nearest Old Chicago for some fine dining in our polo shirts and cargo shorts. It was on the way to Old Chicago that we made our major discovery of the night. Apparently, an unheralded member of Young Money, Jae Millz, has a penchant for rapping unintentionally funny things about the woman he's been with. I think this song sums it up nicely. I don't know where he comes up with some of that but, needless to say, it became our mantra for the night.

Shortly after dinner we took a leisurely drive to Wal-Mart to try on goofy hats, buy a ball for Four Square, and hear the worst story of all-time from a Wal-Mart employee. From there, we returned my car to the Kappa house (which became a sort of home base for us the rest of the night) and started up a rousing game of Four Square on the Quad. After an hour of Four Square, we made our way to Geo's for a refreshing and casual $1 bottle. I felt slightly weird doing such a blatantly adult act after a childish game, but it was a proper summer send-off to our favorite watering hole. We figured that an appropriate end to the night would involve returning to home base again to present a birthday gift to an under-the-weather Molly, and along the way we picked up Satyen Patel. I'm sure Saty made a lasting contribution to the day, but I can't really remember right now. As the wee hours approached, we dropped off Jeff, who had been a gamer all day even though he had a final the next day, and Jack, Brian, Derek, myself, and the nefarious Satyen strolled around campus conversing and sharing witticisms, trying to fend off the impending sunrise that would mean the end to an extraordinary day.

I realized during those hours that it was the first time in recent memory that I didn't want a day to end. Looking back, I also came to the realization that this memorable day was very comparable to an average day of my childhood, minus the driving and the casual beer at Geo's. Back then, all you needed was a game of Four Square and a couple of friends to have fun. Now, a day exempt of school, stress, or work becomes the most memorable day in a person's year, even though I would've classified it as a completely normal day ten years ago. It's a sad realization to come across, but I'm also grateful to have made the connection, if only because it made me appreciate this day a little more and hopefully paves the way in the future for more days like these. Nights like Halloween will always be remembered as special times, but there's something mysterious and exciting about the prospects of any regular day morphing into a memorable one. And with my friends, I wouldn't be shocked if it happens a couple more times before we graduate.

Dropping Everything, If Only For A Second

Usually, I kick off the summer blogging season with a post about my Top 5 moments from the previous school year. That post will be appearing by the end of the week but since I decided not to write at all until the middle of the summer, I'm not really interested in chronological blogging at this point. What broke me out of my summer slump was a particular experience that happened on the Peoria County roadways today, and as with any moment that gets me thinking, I felt the sudden compulsion to write about it immediately.

I was cruising down a two lane road around sunset hours. My windows were down, and the music was at deafening levels (A Tribe Called Quest, I believe) as I comfortably soaked in the summer evening. Before long the quaint driving was interrupted by faint sirens and flashing lights in the distance. The road was not crowded but there were more than a few motorists out driving and, noting the impending presence of an ambulance, pulled over to the side of the road in a hurried fashion. I unconsciously did the same without a moment's hesitation -- it's an obvious sign of common decency to stay out of the way of an ambulance on duty. Once the ambulance safely and swiftly passed me, I flipped on my turn signal, pulled back onto the road and continued my pleasant summer drive.

As I drove, I couldn't help but be pleased about the event that just transpired. Not the fact that the ambulance was en route to a situation where someone was likely in great distress, but the fact that myself and other motorists stopped everything we were doing in order to make it easier for a group of people to resolve a dire situation that was bigger than all of us. We are almost always hellbent on envisioning how to accomplish things on a daily basis to fit our convenient schedule that rarely do we take the time to assure someone else's convenience. But that's exactly what happens when we encounter an ambulance with sirens blazing. I tried to find an equivalent to this phenomenon in other walks of life and the only comparison I could draw would be national anthems before sporting/important events. The national anthem is usually a formality, though; an expected step in a process to begin a baseball game or a high school assembly. In the case of a speeding ambulance, it is always unexpected and still we act accordingly with the utmost unselfishness.

And it is that feeling of unselfishness that stuck with me for the remainder of my summer drive, inspiring within me hope that even in a society of increasing nonchalance that a group of people can in tandem accomplish something for a greater good, or a good that may not be directly related to them. We'll never know who that ambulance was for, but maybe our selflessness contributed to saving a life tonight. It's enough to make you smile as the summer sun sets, if only for a second.