Senior Week

It's Senior Week here at Luther, that unofficial week of debauchery meant to celebrate the accomplishments of four years of undergraduate education. Also, the time of seemingly endless rehearsals for various final concerts and upcoming trips to Brazil. I probably spent about 4.5 hours today sitting around holding a trombone. Which isn't that much different from a typical Wednesday I suppose, but given the gorgeous weather and utter unwillingness to do anything, it gets a bit old. While the rest of Lutherdom is out drinking, making merry, and generally carousing about Decorah, we have to go to bed at 9:00 for our 5:00 A.M. rehearsal. That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the idea.

But wait, there's salvation on the horizon! Thursday of senior week means only one thing.

Concert Band canoe trip.

The annual concert band canoe trip, initiated to kill time in a week of utter nothingness, should on all practical levels, be something to fear. Think about it. A fleet of bored college students in rickety aluminum canoes, loaded to the point of capsizing with cheap beer, making their way, en masse, down the Upper Iowa River. Add to that high water levels, the convenient presence of many sand bars to stop and "socialize" on, and the huge injection of testosterone that seems to inflate every single male, and it really could result in death. And it's a bunch of band instrumentalists, the lowliest pond scum of the musical hierarchy, known for their uncivilized ways and propensity to do stupid shit.

But once again, we can proudly announce that no one died on the Upper Iowa. There was a potentially treacherous ride to the drop zone in the back of a pickup truck and the drunken rages of certain jealous individuals. But otherwise, a smashing success! Beautiful weather, pleasant company, no maritime disasters, and a generally great time had by all. It'll be strange not to be around all these people.

Of course, there's another side to senior week: the infamous house parties. I really probably shouldn't have gone, because I loathe house parties. It's amazing what peer pressure and the delusion that this time "it might be alright" will do to you. With that in mind, I hereby disclaim you to the following passage.

Now, I'm sure that the prospect of keg beer, cramped dirty ass houses, a million people you've never seen, and generally rowdy atmosphere appeals to some people. It must, because an ass-ton of people show up to them. Alas though, I think tonight's experience proved once and for all that the house party really is not my domain. For starters, a majority of the people who end up at house parties are people I don't respect. Secondly, I think maybe extremely cramped circumstances make me very uncomfortable. And thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, it's probably the worst venue for actual person to person interaction I can think of.

Of course, this is coming from an extremely pretentious and self admittedly antagonistic viewpoint. I'm sorry, but I don't want to remember my last days at Luther as being piss-ass drunk at some guy's house I've never met, drinking Keystone Light, pushed up to the wall by crushes of similarly mindless drunk people. Bros who, in an effort to compensate for their general suck-assness, are doing anything short of ritualistic warfare to impress the throngs of equally mindless girls. It's like a giant pulse of unrequited animal sexuality. If a girl comes up to me, chugs two cups of beer, and thinks I'm going to impressed, she'll be sorely mistaken. Hopefully it's the same for women as well. At least ones with some semblance of reason.

I guess I just fail to see the fucking point, overall. If there's one thing that I've learned in 4 years of college, it's that the things that really matter (apart from talking about indie bands makes you look real cool), it's that relationships are what matter in life. I'd much rather kick back, put on some music (indie rock?), have a beer or similar beverage, and have a civilized conversation WITH A POINT. I'm not a fan of small talk. Not a fan of talking on the phone either. Perhaps because most of the time, after you're done talking about what you called to talk about, which takes up about 10% of the conversation, you're then stuck with 90% more small talk. Unlike many, I'm not a very skilled schmoozer.

This is getting redundant. Moral of the story= if you have a house party, I'll probably come hoping against hope that maybe this one will actually be fun, and leave really angry instead. One would think that maybe I would have discovered a pattern...

If you don't suck, and like house parties, that's just phenomenal. Maybe one day we can sit down, and you can explain what exactly is so awesome as I stare back with an incredulous and skeptical look over a cup of bad coffee. But whatever, it's no big deal.

So, I'm headed to Brazil on Monday. First time ever to South America, first time also to a Portuguese speaking country. So, that will be great fun. I'll try to post some stuff as I can get the chance, but no guarantees. It was so frustrating, we had this meeting last night where we were taught all about "safe travel," what to do and not to do, etc. I like to think of myself as a pretty savvy traveler, and it just got to me. They made it sound like everyone in Brazil is waiting to rape you, steal your money, or just in general be threatening. I find that hard to believe. But anyways, I'll try to put some stuff up, maybe some reflections, stories, yada, yada, yada. Check back.

By the next time I write on this, I'll be an official Luther Alumni. Cool?