The O-town Scene

College Girl Jennifer Tighe The Princess and the Shopping Cart It all began in the Sip and Sail Tavern with a princess and a stolen shopping cart. As the princess rode majestically into the tavern kneel- ing gracefully inside the metal-mobile, all eyes stopped and stared in awe of her princess- wave and her glow of power. Her minions clapped and cheered around her, proud to be in the presence of her magnificence. But it was not long before she was ripped from her throne and told to chain her shop- ping cart to the stairs outside, for it was not welcome in such a respectable establishment. This request was reasonable, so the princess elegantly hopped from her metal-pedestal and joined her constituents. Oh, what a wonderful princess she was for she shared in the activities — the beers, the vulgarities, the But soon things went dark, and the children started to scatter like hungry wolves to the classiest pizza joint in all the land, Tino’s. fun—and all without forgetting her royal innocence. But soon things went dark, and the children started to scatter like hungry wolves to the classiest pizza joint in all the land, Tino’s. But the princess, in all of her glory, would not reclaim her metal-throne. Instead, she loaned it out to a princess-in-training and asked if she might push this mock- princess all the way to the restaurant. There were mountains and valleys, boulders and stones, all obstacles that wouldn’t keep the princesses from their pizza. With pizza in their hands and joy in their hearts, the princess pushed the mock-princess towards the window, attempting to push her up the stairs and to sit her there where everyone could watch as she nibbled at doughey cold-cheese delight. But there was a fall, a terrible, terrible fall, and the mock- princess tumbled to the floor covering herself in dressing and mozzarella cheese. Then a prince arrived — a strapping gentleman who knew the ways of the world and was willing to protect the prin- cesses. So, he pushed them to a concert in the park. It wasn’t Shakespeare, but instead a symphony of hip-hop beats and gyrating teenagers under a star-lit sky. When the music had ceased and the players had gone, all the children filtered back into the streets. The princesses had an idea, “Why don’t they push the prince to safety for a change?” So they pushed and they pushed and they huffed and they puffed, all of this only to end in spilling the prince onto the pavement time and time again. But they laughed and they giggled all the way back to the Sip and Sail Tavern, and drank the night away, one $2 draft at a time. DISCLAIMER: This all really hap- pened. Thank you for existing, OH-Fest. Jennifer Tighe is a senior majoring in English at SUNY Oneonta. She can be reached at tighjj53@suny.oneonta.edu. College Guy Sam Spokony Power lies in the ability to learn and adapt I recently read an article about an interesting man, a skilled mountain biker named Daniel Kish. He’s been leading his own groups on bike trail trips for 10 years … and he’s blind. But his ability to lead an active and fulfilling life in the face of adversity doesn’t really seem like some story from a sappy Hollywood script; it’s surprisingly practical, and it’s got more to teach us than the power of perseverance. You’re probably wondering how he does it. Echolocation. I’m serious. The thing that bats do. As he rides, Daniel makes a clicking noise with his tongue every few seconds. He listens to, or perhaps feels, the sonic frequency of the resulting tones, which vary as they bounce off the objects surrounding him. He uses those variations to judge his relative distance from anything that might impede his progress, and navigates the trails accordingly. He does it perfectly every time, and, after years of practice, he does it effortlessly. What can we learn from that? Let’s think about one important element that preceded Daniel’s decision to train himself to echolocate, and, in effect, Delving more deeply into the inner network of our own minds and bodies is something that the Internet generation often tosses aside, but it’s a challenge that is just as great, and just as important, as any we might face today. become more closely in touch with his brain and its sensory perception than is the large majority of the human race. Even as the power of technology has increased exponen- tially and come to define the cultural landscape that exists around everyone within the developed world, I imagine that Daniel hasn’t been able to access and disseminate visual information at the same rate as many of us do every day. Put bluntly, his disability leaves him somewhat cut off from some of the outlets that serve to connect us to today’s incredibly vast global network. And it’s allowed him to focus his mind inward at a time when we’re constantly being asked to look outward and to become, for better or worse, cogs in the network. What would happen if we all tried more often to shield ourselves from that influence? Daniel isn’t special by any stan- dards of intelligence or mental stamina; he’s simply tapped into the natural resources of his own body. In doing so he’s become, in that regard, even more capable than those who consider personal productivity to be inextricably linked to the progressive world around us. I’m not telling you to close your eyes and start echolocating. The point here is that, in adapting to the circumstances of his life, Daniel has not only developed a unique skill, but also has further stretched the limits of his own mental and physical ability. If you’re able to take some small amount of time to discon- nect yourself from the ubiquitous neural network of contem- porary society, don’t you think you could do the same thing? Delving more deeply into the inner network of our own minds and bodies is something that the Internet generation often tosses aside, but it’s a challenge that is just as great, and just as important, as any we might face today. It’s a challenge to retain what makes us human. Whether it’s learning an instrument, training for a marathon or writing a column for your local newspaper, try taking the journey inward. You’ll end up gaining a skill more fundamental, and more valuable, than any computer, television or iPhone could ever provide. So, while one might feel inspired by a story like Daniel’s, I don’t. I’m just re- minded that, no matter how heavily the growth of technology weighs on us, true power exists within the ability to learn, and to navigate our own courses. Sam Spokony is a junior majoring in music industry and English at SUNY May 5, 2011 O-Town Scene 5

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