So Many Verbs & Nouns

275 (December 2011; Winter Break, College Freshman)

I-275 is the nation’s longest freeway loop. It measures in at 86 miles long, passes through three states, and acts as the boundary line of the Greater Cincinnati Metropolitan Area. One night, in December of 2011, my friends Jack, Ben, and I decided to drive its entirety in one evening (something Jack wanted to do before he graduated high school the following spring).

Somewhere along the way we got off the loop and drove 40 miles towards Indianapolis. Upon realizing this Jack got temporarily frustrated, then considering the ridiculousness of the whole situation just pulled over to a gas station and topped off the tank.

When he got back in the car I pulled up Blink-182’s “Neighborhoods” on my iPod and we set off to hopefully complete our quest this time. The album held a special place in our mutual friendship group as we had eagerly awaited it, listening to each lead-up single immediately as they were released and always as a group. We were nearly silent for much of the album, occasionally singing along but mostly just enjoying it together.

When we reached Downtown Cincinnati, just 10 mile from completing our journey I suggested a brief detour. We took 275 around the city once then got onto I-71 North. The other two were relatively inexperienced with the cities interstates and thus were not prepared for the beautiful view of the city lit-up against the now pitch-black winter night sky as we crested the hill. Rather cheesily I queued up “This City” by Patrick Stump on the iPod, but the view was still enough to overwhelm all three of us.

We completed the last 10 miles and vowed that having driven the nation’s longest freeway loop in one trip that we would never do it again.

Amateur Anthrosociopsychology (January 2012; Winter Quarter, College Freshman)

Everyday during the Winter Quarter of 2012 my friend Olivia and I had Elementary Statistics together. Almost everyday we would walk back from this class together and talk about whatever random interesting thing we’d stumbled across the day before. On the particular day we were discussing the actions of her roommate who was from the town next to the one where I grew up. She was growing unhappy with being away at school and had gone as far as getting together with an ex-boyfriend from high school long distance.

Olivia could not understand the logic behind such actions; and so I launched into a probably misguided, albeit interesting theory about the effects of our particular area of Ohio on its inhabitants and their life goals. We discussed lack of transportation, level of education, socioeconomic class issues, racial diversity, and many other factors involved in the roommate’s (and by extension my) upbringing.

Even though we were probably leaping to ridiculous conclusions that were relatively incorrect the nature of the discussion was very interesting and thus we dubbed our new made-up field of study Amateur Anthrosociopyschology.

25 Burgers (November 2011; Winter Break, College Freshman)

In the fall of 2011 my friend Bryan and I began a six week journey through our church called The Strong Challenge. Even though I was 170 miles away at college for the majority of the challenge I managed to watch all of the services online and meet as a small group with Bryan via Skype ever Thursday night. As part of the challenge we were asked to serve in a way which we hadn’t ever served before. We decided on that particular night, as I waited on my laundry in the dryer of Lincoln Hall and he put off homework at his house in Clifton, that as soon as I got home we would go to a fast food restaurant, buy a ton of burgers, and give them out to homeless people in downtown Cincinnati.

And so, on the day before Thanksgiving I picked Bryan up and we parked my mom’s car at Fountain Square. We walked six blocks to the nearest Wendy’s and bought 25 cheeseburgers. Over the course of the next four hours we traversed probably a hundred blocks of the city and gave away every single one of the burgers to people in need. Each one was extremely grateful and was amazed that two teenage boys had taken it upon themselves to do such a thing.

It wasn’t all happiness and cheerful service though. At the start of the third hour we still had a dozen cheeseburgers left and had struck out with nearly all of the last 20 people we’d offered them to. I could tell Bryan was starting to loose his optimism about the project (something that he almost never does). We talked to keep our minds off of the possibility that we would have to waste almost half of the food. I know I was silently praying we’d find some hungry people around each corner, and I’m pretty sure he was too. I was about to say something about maybe biting off more than we could chew (no pun intended) when the fourth hour came along and we started giving away burgers like crazy. After Bryan handed the last three burgers to a group of fairly cold, sad looking men I could see his face brighten and I felt a smile creep across mine.

He threw away the bag and we walked a little ways before he said “Thanks for doing this with me.” I thanked him as well and we discussed the effects the Challenge as a whole had had on us as we walked back to the car. I had never felt better about an afternoon than I did about that one. There’s just something about helping people who really need it, simply because you want to. When we sat down on his couch that afternoon to play some video games and rest our feet I don’t think we stopped smiling wordlessly for hours.

Dr. Funk, Randy, and Fred Durst (Summer 2011; High School to College Transition)

I knew on the day that I met Tim Miller back in 2009 that he would become one of my closest friends. We have always just clicked. Our sense of humor are perfectly in-tune, so it was no wonder that eventually we would start creating absurd little vignettes to make our summers at Camp Friedlander more amusing. The summer of 2011 was when our comedic outbursts grew both in number and in strength to an unstoppable point. These are the stories of three of my favorite creations from that summer.

Dr. Funk

Equal parts Black Dynamite, A Pimp Named Slickback, and Bootsy Collins; Dr. Funk was our resident funkologist with a phd in funkology at Camp Friedlander. Tim and I invented him one afternoon during lunch when he decided to dance around the dining hall to the theme from Shaft while wearing a ridiculous hat. We later conceptualized a series of campfire skits (which were more like attempts at SNL sketches) in which Dr. Funk cured people of diseases such Alabaster Abundnace Syndrome. The aforementioned ailment became the plot of the one and only Dr. Funk skit we performed for the campers in which Dr. Funk, and his speechless sidekick Nurse Bass, taught a white camp counselor with no rhtyhm how to dance, make a stank face, and do a funky clap. Throughout the skit a collection of staff members in funk attire would pop up throughout the ampitheatre and yell “yeaaaaah” (like Lil Jon) whenever Dr. Funk spoke of “da funk”. The campers never really caught on to Dr. Funk, but the staff and the leaders enjoyed it, and we certainly enjoyed performing it.

Randy the Overly Sensitive Body Builder

Pretty self-explanatory, Randy was a body builder who was overly sensitive. He would help nerdy high schoolers and junior high students with relationships and get “SOOOO PUMPED!” whenever they asked girls out in cute ways or took them to see a movie. His favorite movie was The Notebook and he would always insist that the awkward young men “TELL ME MOORRRRRREEE” when describing their ill-fated encounters with potential female companions. We never did much with the character, but often used his catch phrases in actual emotional conversations to lighten the mood or to egg on friends who were pursuing new dates.

Fred Durst

One day during the summer of 2011 Tim and I were having a discussion, in which I made the comment that someday I want to remembered for leaving an important artistic impact on our culture, “you know, like Fred Durst.” This was quite possibly the most sarcastic thing I’ve ever said in my entire life. I have never had any appreciation for Limp Bizkit and I have even less appreciation for Fred Durst. He has always struck me as a fairly dreadful part of a particular time in our culture. Tim agrees with me on this matter despite being an ex-Limp Bizkit fan. And so, it was from that day on that we would put this sarcastic add-on into conversation as straight-faced as possible to see how people reacted. For example, we would say things like “I don’t listen to Kanye West, I only listen to talented rappers, you know, like Fred Durst.” Or even things that had nothing to do with nu-metal wash-ups such as: “I’ve always wanted to start doing yoga, you know, like Fred Durst.” The catch-phrase is unfortunately almost un-funny these days since almost no one actually remembers who the hell Fred Durst was. But then that was kind of the point all along.

Bad Movie Night (September, 2011; OU Freshman)

One night in September of 2011, I gathered a group of friends to watch Doctor Who in my dorm. After watching that night’s episode and discussing possibilities for the next episode we decided to go to another friend’s dorm so that my friends could force me to watch My Little Pony; Friendship Is Magic with them. While I was not amused with this particular program the movie we watched afterward was a life-changing experience.

We began discussing bad movies, and someone suggested we watch a movie called “Troll 2”. I had never heard of this magical film before, but chose to stick around and watch it out of my love of bad movies. I’ve watched some pretty hilariously awful movies in my day, but this film is by far the most terribly awful movie ever produced. Despite being called “Troll 2” its villains are actually Goblins, and it bears absolutely no connection to the mediocre low-budget horror film “Troll”. The acting is worse than any high school play you’ve ever been to, the score sounds like something out of a mid-’80s educational film, and the plot revolves around the premise that vegetarianism turns you into a goblin.

The most infamous line from “Troll 2”, seen here, is “They’re eating her, and then they’re going to eat me. Oh my God!” The group of us gathered in my friend Olivia’s dorm to watch this masterpiece laughed so loudly at this that people from down the hall actually came over and asked us to keep it down because we were being too loud. Granted, it was 2am. We of course took their request as an invitation to yell “Oh my God!” in the aforementioned manner at every slightly interesting plot development that occured for the rest of the movie.

I have since exposed many other friends to the wonder that is “Troll 2”, but you never really forget your first time…

You Will Puke (Summer 2011; High School to College Transition)

At the Wards Corner Road exit of I-275 in Loveland, Ohio (the closest exit to BSA Camp Friedlander, where I worked as counselor) there is a United Dairy Farmers gas station. For those from outside the Greater Cincinnati Metropolitan Area, UDF is a gas station with an ice cream shop inside. And at this particular UDF worked a Russian-American woman in her mid-thirties named Bincha. As a camp staff, we would often go out at night to the UDF, get ice cream and try to get more and more ridiculous stories from or about Bincha.

One evening, on a rare night off, my friends Tyler, Bobbi, Janine, and I all went to UDF after getting dinner from the local Chipotle. We went up to the counter and Bobbi and I ordered our milkshakes. Then, Tyler (always slightly indecisive) stood at the counter staring at the menu. Bincha asked him “What do you want?” and he just stood there for a second. He then asked if she could make him an Orange Milkshake. Bincha’s only response was: “The Orange is sherbet. You mix milk and sherbet, you will puke.”

Tyler said, “No no, all I want is an Orange Milkshake.”

Bincha then pointed to the orange sherbet and explained “It’s not ice cream, it is sherbet. You mix it with milk, it will not be good. You will puke. I will make you different orange drink instead.” Tyler took her advice and settled for the orange smoothie.

Sad Song Night (Summer 2010, Junior-Senior Transition)

It was just another night at Camp Friedlander. Program was over and the kids were back in their campsites. The staff had hung out on Staff Row screwing around for a bit playing Water Pong and things of that nature. However, my friend Ben and I felt like doing something slightly different on this night. We were sitting on my porch with a set of iPod speakers listening to music, like we did most nights. Tonight would prove to be different though.

As we sat and talked I noticed that Ben was in a bit of a weird mood that night. From this we both came to the realization that we share a love of sad music. Songs with emotional depth that, as Charlie in “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” would say, make you feel infinite. And so we just started listening to these songs, going back and forth recommending songs. It was a fairly quiet experience, with only a few words shared in between songs, but nothing said during them. As we stared out at the trees and listened to those songs I got that wonderful feeling of infinity. Since then, Ben and I have often shared such songs with one another, and while this might seem depressing to some, the sharing of sad music is in some ways a happy experience in the sense that we can both share in the beautiful emotional experience that is music.

I’m Classy Bitches! (Winter 2010, Junior Year)

I went to high school in a rural suburb on the far east side of Cincinnati, Ohio. On the north side of the city there is a large mall called Kenwood Towne Centre where a number of well known mid-level clothing chains are located (ie: H&M, Express, etc.). The mall nearest to my high school is best known for its Hot Topic. Needless to say, it is not a particularly classy establishment.

Thus, one day in the winter of 2010, around the time Ke$ha released her breakout single “Tik Tok” my good friend Janet and I decided to make a Friday night pilgrimage to Kenwood to shop at these “classy” stores. Janet and I always considered ourselves to be slightly more sophisticated than many of the other people at our school (ie: those who wore pajama pants and WWE tee shirts to school more than once a week), so these outings were our way of bonding over common interests that we largely ignored at school.

And so we were flying down the freeway, at night, in Janet’s crappy sea-foam green Ford Focus, “Euripides”, blasting the techno channel on her satellite radio (because we both also love dance music). A lengthy remix of “Tik Tok” came on, which prompted a discussion on how trashy Ke$ha was. As we pulled into the Kenwood Towne Centre parking lot with Ke$ha playing on Euripides’s radio we both came to the conclusion that Janet’s car, and our rural-east-sider selves were completely out of place in this part of town.

After finishing our shopping we got overpriced cups of delicious “rare” hot tea from a store in the mall called Teavana and headed back out into the cold to find Euripides. During our walk from the mall to the car Janet said that she felt very classy with her tea and her recent purchase of dress casual clothing from H&M. As we drove out of the mall the original version of “Tik Tok” came on the Top 40 radio station (we had grown tired of the repetitiveness of techno). And then suddenly, without warning, as we pulled out of the parking lot with Ke$ha pumping out of Eumenides’s sad excuse for speakers Janet rolled down her window, leaned out and yelled “I’M CLASSY BITCHES!!!!!”

Childhood Nicknames (Summer 2011, High School to College Transition)

Over the course of the summer of 2011 my good friend and coworker Bryan and I made fun of each other. The two of us are incredibly close (almost to a scary degree at points) so this wasn’t really an issue. Until we started discussing childhood nicknames.

During this discussion Bryan told me that his dad had an incredibly embarrassing nickname for him as a child. Being a stubborn individual I refused to drop the subject and swore that I would find out the nickname by the end of the summer. While I have yet to figure out the actual nickname, I did manage to get him back for not telling me.

Two or three days after the original conversation I swore that I would tell every single camper I met at the Boy Scout camp we worked at to call him “Bry Bry” until he told me the actual nickname. He ran late getting to the first day of the next week’s Metalwork Merit Badge class, so I immediately volunteered to cover for him and told the whole class to call him Bry Bry all the time and that any time they had a question they should just sit at the table, and without even raising their hands, yell “Bry Bry!” as loud as they could until he paid attention to them.

For the first few days the kids greeted him each day in unison “Hi Bry Bry”. This prompted him to tell kids to call me “Tay Tay”, which was not nearly as successful as most of the campers already knew me by my preferred nickname, Leroy. Then, on Friday, all hell broke loose. Bryan walked out to Metalwork, took attendance, and was bombarded with an onslaught of “Bry Bry!”s from every single kid in the class. They had obviously organized something and were going far beyond my expectations. They could be heard for hundreds of feet. Other staff members, who knew I was behind this, simply looked up at me from their classes and shook their heads. Bryan walked in to my class at the end of his, exasperated, and told me he’d get me back.

The next day a camper walked up to me and called me a hipster.

Isaac (March 2011, Senior Year)

On this night my father’s best friend from high school comes through town and stays at our house along with his fifteen year old son Isaac. After customary introductions and general catching up my father and mother go off to talk with Isaac’s father and so Isaac and I are left to occupy some time. I awkwardly begin discussing music and Scouting with him (he is a Star Scout and an SPL considering Camp Staff in his area). Soon, and with no warning at all we launch into a conversation that I could not even have with many of my close friends.

Over the course of a handful of late night hours we discussed everything from parents and religion to eating disorders and pokemon. The dominating theme though was religion and general awareness of the world. Isaac attends a christian private school (by choice after spending his first seven years in public school) and is about to switch into a public high school. Facing a drastic transition he seems to be in a period of questioning and uncertainty which is bothering him a bit. It reminds me a lot of myself as a high school senior about to make the transition into the college world.

At one point in the conversation Isaac says “This is the most fun I’ve had just talking to someone in a long time.” It is at this point that I realize that many people have not had the opportunity to communicate in this way with someone in their life which is a very sad thought. I spent many of my high school weekends with a group of artistic people who would always sit up into the late hours of the night with you discussing and questioning life. Isaac has made me realize that I am quite blessed to have had this group of people.

Despite his apparent lack of experience in the field, Isaac is a born conversationalist and often made me forget about the significant age gap between us. His studies have turned him into an incredibly enlightened individual (peculiar at such a young age), which allows him to intelligently discuss things that I’m not sure I could were I in his shoes. What other private christian school kid would eagerly discuss the societal merits of Islam and South Park?