One: the Aerialists. Knowing that the group was chartered last spring, Peter and I were't sure what to expect, and the setting -- an old gym with painted windows, just like the gym at Sliney -- wasn't promising. But the acts left me literally open-mouthed. Controlled falls were a central part of most of the acts, and the aerialists weren't so much defying gravity as putting it through its paces. They would wrap themselves in silk, or rope, or around a trapeze -- pose for a second, stretching their arms out as if in flight -- and let go, trusting themselves and their dancing partner. The official Source write-up (with more pictures) is here, but it doesn't say anything about the wonder and the beauty of it, the miracle of dancers supported in midair by silk and loving attention to gravity.
(The picture above belongs to Ma'ayan Plaut '10 -- I cropped it mostly for size.)
Two: My darling father's visit to Oberlin. As this is mostly an and-then-we entry, I've been putting it off. Without further ado:
We met at Keep in the morning after a quick tidying-up. I showed him the lounge, the several rooms that make up our kitchen, and upstairs to my room, where I was surprised to find Whitman -- apparently he's been living in my room lately. (Actually, I was merely surprised that he wasn't already at work, but that's neither here nor there.) At any rate, we did the this-is-my-roommate thing and talked for a second before heading out. It turns out Dad and Whitman have a fairly similar sense of humor, except that as far as I know Dad's repertoire doesn't include burying bodies in the Arb.
We left after a bit to go get lunch, and wandered down Main Street for a few minutes before ending up at Sprouts, the new raw-foods-vegan-smoothie-bar cafe near Slow Train. The sushi was pretty good, the gazpacho delicious, and we casually strolled over to the football game against Allegheny to see number 10 play.
We went to a Mail Art exhibit in the Allen annex. The pieces were intriguing, but we didn't stay for the talk. Walking across Tappan Square, Dad realized that we had forgotten to pay at Sprouts, but instead of shrugging it off, immediately turned back to rectify (in the oldest sense of the word) the mistake. I was proud to be with him as he admitted the error, paid up and left.
After that we went to a panel billed "From Hippies to Hipsters: Oberlin's History of Student Activism" which should have been billed "The Aftermath of the Architect: What Karl Rove's Visit and Student Dissent Means to Us as a Campus and What We Should Do About It." They are both interesting discussions and the latter definitely had to happen, but a room full of unsuspecting students and parents hoping to hear a colloquial treatment of Oberlin's history of dissent was not the right room.
The discourse was healthy, for the most part, and it was interesting, although not at all what we'd signed up for. Dad and I both kept our own counsel instead of adding one more voice to the clamor of people talking past each other. Anyway, I was very glad I'd gone, but not so glad that Dad had had to sit through it as well.
Dinner was indeed special: individual quiches and sides of beets and veggies. You know you have lived in a co-op too long when roasted beets are finger food. (They also make an excellent snack.) Dad even had a bite of quiche, despite the likely butter content in the pastry dough. They were quite good!
We got floor tickets for Fall Forward, the Fall Semester modern dance showcase; if you're interested, there's a thorough review here.
Sunday morning, we ate at Fresh Start Diner and I ordered an eighteen-inch rolled pancake filled with ice cream and blueberries. Yes, really. It was wonderful. I ate less than half, but I saved the rest in the freezer, and it came in handy Tuesday morning when our breakfast cook didn't wake up.
We went to church after that, and -- surprise! -- I found out just in time that I had to acolyte. It went fairly well. It becomes much easier to be an acolyte when you remember that nobody's looking at you, really. The focus is on God. The point is essentially to not mess up enough to distract from worship. If you look like you know what you're doing and focus on God, too, there's not a whole lot else that matters.
Anyway, after a quick brunch at Keep, we watched the Quidditch game in Wilder Bowl for a few minutes. It says a lot about Oberlin that our marching band plays for our Quidditch team instead of our football team ...
Dad's flight was early, so after a quick swing past the underwhelming Frank Lloyd Wright house, he dropped me off at Keep with the shoes I'm wearing right now and other useful gifts. It had been wonderful to see him and show him around campus. Thanks for stopping by, Dad!
Well, that just about wraps up this entry. I'll see some of you soon. To the others, have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Thanks for all the comments lately!
