Ides of March: A Pointless College Story Extra
Spring does funny things to people. Warmer, sunnier days is enough to put anybody in a celebratory mood for even the most extraneous reasons. Below is one such account:
So, it was the usual suspects hanging out in Room 51 on a beautifully temperate March 15th. I had since finished my classes for the day and had stopped by to see what the rest of the group might be up to. I was feeling particularly scrappy, probably due to the weather, and when conversation drifted to the fact that it was the Ides of March I felt compelled to find some way to commemorate it.
I managed to convince about five or six other guys that a re-enactment was in order and we set upon finding some sheets to wear as togas. And being ad hoc, we forewent the traditional mode of assassination and just had the guys grab whatever they could find to do in the beloved tyrant, offered to be played by yours truly.
Once kitted up, we decided on the best venue to play out this little scene. And that place was Willard Building. Willard is a classroom pretty centrally located on campus and usually hosts a high percentage of the classes that most of the students have to take at one point. This makes it a bustling center of activity and a high foot traffic area. In fact, this is why one particular gentleman chose it as his place to enlighten us heathens on the finer points of religion on a daily basis.
Our group felt it was best to quietly enter through a side door and make a grand entrance out the front. Zaphod helped introduce the group by coming out first shouting "Beware the Ides of March! Beware the Ides of March!"
Even the Willard Preacher took this queue to yield the floor as we emerged through the glass doors. I started into some nonsense spiel about my admirable and trustworthy senators behind me and then went onto relate the health of the glorious empire. With that, one of the group came up and went with the traditional approach of stabbing me a knife of some sort. It then proceeded to get sillier as further senators would bludgeon me with saucepans, musical instruments and I believe even one of them had a couple of six-shooters.
Once everyone had a turn with their ad-libbed killing spree, they lifted my slumped form and carried me off from the chuckling and bemused crowd. It wasn't high art, but it was fun. So much fun, in fact that we did a repeat performance on the HUB lawn... one of the more frequented patches of green space on the quad.
After the second showing, we retired back to Room 51 to change back into our normal clothes. It was silly and spur of the moment but profoundly satisfying. I had often entertained the notion of writing up a loose script for a more polished production should the mood strike again, but neither have solidified. Still, it is very rare for me to have an Ides go by where I do not reminisce on that afternoon.
There are a additional details in this story worth telling, but I will delegate that to the others should they wish it.
So, it was the usual suspects hanging out in Room 51 on a beautifully temperate March 15th. I had since finished my classes for the day and had stopped by to see what the rest of the group might be up to. I was feeling particularly scrappy, probably due to the weather, and when conversation drifted to the fact that it was the Ides of March I felt compelled to find some way to commemorate it.
I managed to convince about five or six other guys that a re-enactment was in order and we set upon finding some sheets to wear as togas. And being ad hoc, we forewent the traditional mode of assassination and just had the guys grab whatever they could find to do in the beloved tyrant, offered to be played by yours truly.
Once kitted up, we decided on the best venue to play out this little scene. And that place was Willard Building. Willard is a classroom pretty centrally located on campus and usually hosts a high percentage of the classes that most of the students have to take at one point. This makes it a bustling center of activity and a high foot traffic area. In fact, this is why one particular gentleman chose it as his place to enlighten us heathens on the finer points of religion on a daily basis.
Our group felt it was best to quietly enter through a side door and make a grand entrance out the front. Zaphod helped introduce the group by coming out first shouting "Beware the Ides of March! Beware the Ides of March!"
Even the Willard Preacher took this queue to yield the floor as we emerged through the glass doors. I started into some nonsense spiel about my admirable and trustworthy senators behind me and then went onto relate the health of the glorious empire. With that, one of the group came up and went with the traditional approach of stabbing me a knife of some sort. It then proceeded to get sillier as further senators would bludgeon me with saucepans, musical instruments and I believe even one of them had a couple of six-shooters.
Once everyone had a turn with their ad-libbed killing spree, they lifted my slumped form and carried me off from the chuckling and bemused crowd. It wasn't high art, but it was fun. So much fun, in fact that we did a repeat performance on the HUB lawn... one of the more frequented patches of green space on the quad.
After the second showing, we retired back to Room 51 to change back into our normal clothes. It was silly and spur of the moment but profoundly satisfying. I had often entertained the notion of writing up a loose script for a more polished production should the mood strike again, but neither have solidified. Still, it is very rare for me to have an Ides go by where I do not reminisce on that afternoon.
There are a additional details in this story worth telling, but I will delegate that to the others should they wish it.