As a writer of the issues in all the days of our times, I have touched my pen on the issues of the day at least a hundred or a thousand times in these pages. Of society, of Game, of Lizards as Pets, and of Life — each time, in a humble word, I have said what I believe my opinion to be and when and why. But I have left it up to you to decide? But THIS one, on THIS one I cannot say silent! So, here I am, again, to write of it, and you all to read of it once more.
What I am to speak of is one I’m sure you all see in the air as Yale is soon to end. It’s celebration. It’s of the way we show to be happy. It’s of what exactly the little boys and girls of Yale do to have the good times. This leads me to ask us: what is this fun? And where is it to be found? And why? Is it at the dance parby with the musics turned all the way up? Is it moving and shaking your parts at the dance clud, all packed in tight like jibbies? NO. It is in us, it is inside of we. Let me explain to it.
At the other day, deep in the night time, I was standing in the corner of the biggest ball room I had ever known to see, the Senior Masterade, when it struck into my head. Though I, Jame, go it out into the hustling streets every day to know every little girl and boy of Yale, I felt as if, here, I could truly know no one. Though you dance around and jiggle whatever it is on your body that is to be jiggled, how can you have fun if you don’t know your self or the selves of everyone around you? After all, as they always have said, “He who truly knows not one, knows no one.” And he who knows no one will lie sad in his bed all night long.
And then, in this moment, I was struck by another, that all of the times we had before were just the same in this regard as this one now. I’m thinking right now, of course, of Tobe’s Place, of Freshling Screw, of the parby that we have on Spring Fling Day. It is all of just to jump and noise and touch back and forth on each other … outside where everyone’s eyes can see it happen! Need I remind you of Safely Dance, which, I may remind you, did not go quite so “safely” as everyone thought? In the Masterade, we all wore our masts. But maybe in the pastimes, we wore still another mast: the mast of parby, the mast of our face.
Now, my mind swings itself into the present. It is the month of Feduary, which is time for only just one thing for seniors — the Fed Clubs. In the Fed Clubs, if you are to become a member of them, go to it, by all and every means, but when you get to it, don’t just bang and jang around like those sweaty scratchy parbies of the past. Take off your mast! Dance like I do — flowing around in the meadow of the winds, each little arm and leg twirling and whirling away. See the world as I do — of a friend, of you and me and all of us together holding of their fingers and hands running everywhere together!
And I was struck again with another and my mind swings again further on to the beautiful month of May — Murble Beach, the Senior Weeks, where we have the proverbial chance to do things right. Leave home your smelly bottles, and turn your face into the sun. There you will see me, splashing in the sand, and know that we did it. Because after all, when these weeks are over, Yale is gone.
And which will you remember?