Georgetown University’s Newspaper of Record since 1920

The Hoya

Georgetown University’s Newspaper of Record since 1920

The Hoya

Georgetown University’s Newspaper of Record since 1920

The Hoya

Making Campus A ‘Living Musical’

SLOWLY LOSING MY MIND Making Campus A ‘Living Musical’

Walking around Georgetown is too often a drab affair.

Particularly around this time of year, as temperatures drop and finals approach, there are far too many of us who quickly shuffle between classes, heads down and mouths tight-lipped while, worst of all, we exhibit absolutely no sense of style. There should be more excitement as we cross campus.

Some scurry and barely open their mouths to speak. We need more voices.

Others just pitter-patter their feet across Red Square and hide their faces, without once giving the rest of campus a little piece of personal flair. We need more expression.

Finally, the largest problem with Georgetown’s between class migrations is one of style. Doesn’t anyone else find it boring that students only walk across campus? We need choreography.

My solution to bring life back to Georgetown’s quads and squares should already be obvious to the strangest and least normal of you out there. Don’t worry, happy little friends in white coats and carrying straitjackets should be coming by your location any moment now to take you to a calm and soothing locale for some well-deserved rest. Thank the nice men.

For the rest of you, I shall clarify. Georgetown University needs a “living musical” policy, requiring students, faculty and staff to snap, sing, swing and jazz step all over campus. Need to get from Walsh to ICC in a hurry? Throw on some tap shoes and simply leap, spin and dip your way across campus. Don’t forget that Rodgers and Hammerstein score, but also be sure to create your own lyrical masterpieces. After all, Georgetown’s living musical is all about you, your life, your music. Besides, can Broadway really beat your musical salute to Comparative Political Systems or that rock opera medley about Texts and Contexts?

Yes!

But the point of the living musical isn’t to create the world’s best theater. No, in fact, the greatest benefit of Georgetown Hoya Superstar is the growing sense of community singing and dancing together engenders. Think about how many friends you could make if your Latin American Civilization discussion group affected cockney accents, began pick-pocketing speechgoers in Gaston Hall and adopted a gruff situation reviewing old curmudgeon with a lovely tenor as your leader. Or if that tense encounter between protesting pro-Israeli, pro-Palestinian, pro-Armenian and pro-Swedish supergroup ABBA groups all of a sudden turned into an impromptu craps game, one that involved Marlon Brando and Frank Sinatra for some unforeseen reason.

How lucky would you be if you could woo that special lady on campus with a personalized chorus of “Some Enchanted Evening,” adding your own lyrics when you realize that hey, you don’t know the stinkin’ words from a 50-year old musical? Also, the French accent is just impossible and it’s only 1 p.m. It’s not even evening, it’s certainly not enchanted and, for that reason, you’re also not getting to get “some.”

But this musical Georgetown world can still provide plenty of drama and much diversion as you amble and snap your fingers in transit. In front of Healy, Philodemicians gather to perform their own version of “Resolved: Born to Hand Jive.” While econ students have attempted for years to elicit mercy from their professors, they can finally get that exam pushed back one week, as barbershop quartets break out into four-part harmony all over ICC to lull instructors into a calmer, more relaxed and forgiving mood.

Drunken, black-pants-wearing freshman girls return from Rhino’s belting out Gilbert and Sullivan standards. At least, that’s what we hope they’re singing. To be perfectly honest, whatever it is that’s coming out of their mouths is really too incomprehensible to decipher. And their attempts to ballet or jazz dance their way through the dance break/dream sequence in Oklahoma! usually just result in one of the girls tripping and falling on her face in the middle of Prospect.

Walk by New South. Hear students shout “Tradition!” and “Lochaim!” as they fling couches, water fountains, dry-erase boards, exit signs, beds, desks, televisions, parents, R.A.’s, Vice President for Student Affairs Juan C. Gonzalez, load after load of bauxite and the remains of Leon Trotsky out of windows and down stairwells. Even surly Euros can get into the act, snapping their fingers in rhythm as they voraciously smoke outside ICC.

Political discussion would flourish in the form of short, snappy, easy-to-remember show tunes as Academy editors and Solidarity members work out their differences through choreographed knife fight numbers. Of course, the tense circling maneuvers and flying stabbing motions would be subdued by the fact that half of Solidarity is pacifist, opposed even to violence through modern dance, as well as the problem of limited hand-eye coordination on the part of the Georgetown Academy. Somehow, it’s just not as exciting when the university’s own little right-wing brandishes nothing more dangerous than butter knifes, lest they trip and hurt themselves.

Of course, when a random Shark named Chino shoots former GSC President Andrew Milmore because of his cross-the-political-lines romance with Academy Editor in Chief Sabine Calle, the whole performance reaches its dramatic climax. And this column reaches its peak of absurdity.

Of course, that’s what this whole little adventure is all about. If you want facts and reason, hide your head and rush to class. If not, join the musical sensation that’s not sweeping the nation. You don’t have to be afraid of a little song and dance, unless of course, you see a gaggle of lederhosen-clad Austrian twerps following President Jack DeGioia around as he tells them about his favorite things.

If that happens, I suggest that everyone – SFS or MSB, Jet or Shark – flee campus. And obviously, stop dancing. You’re only encouraging him.

Slowly Losing My Mind appears every other Friday in The Hoya. The author can be reached at relihanthehoya.com.

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