PrintOften, while sitting or eating or reading or pooping, we think to ourselves, “Life is sweet. I’m pretty smart, and things are generally cool.” Enlightenment? For the purposes of our discussion, yes. Sometimes, these awesome experiences are inherently related to being a Columbia student.
-You’re eating a BLT at 212 and reading Dante’s Paradiso. Creed’s “Higher” comes on the loudspeaker.
-You’re at Westside. They just filled up the smoked gouda sample bin. You eat a piece of smoked gouda before the sniveling, puffy toddler behind you.
-You’re on College Walk, listening to Savage Garden on your iPod. A prospie and her mom walk by and shoot you a look that says, “You are probably listening to Mozart or an NPR podcast.”
-You’re in line for an omelette at John Jay before Music Hum. You notice that Wilma’s powerful cry of “ham, bacon, cheese, and tomato” has a defined tonal center and stepwise melody. You cry a little into your omelette.
-You’re at NYU.
-You’re waiting for your package in Lerner. It’s probz some sweet walnut brownies from Mom. When the man working at the desk asks you to “sign whenever you’re ready,” you wait a little bit for impact. And then, the authorization screen becomes your palette. It’s not just your autograph—it’s a statement.
-You’re walking to get an elevator in East Campus on a Thursday night. Both of the little screens display a little red “L.” No arrows. The one that opens has a working light for your floor. You do a jig. Because you can.
-You’re walking out of Butler. The doors are closing, and you are about to get pummeled. But the cutie from Art Hum presses the auto-open button at pre-impact moment, protecting you from certain destruction. It’s kind of sexual. You make awkward and averted eye contact for the first time.