The Union

The Olpin Union lawn. I love this area of campus more than my bedroom, perhaps. The honeylocust trees create the same shade in Centerville as in Salt Lake City. I lay on the usual "grassy knoll" and it's Sunday afternoon, I'm on my front lawn reading with Michelle, Rob, Sara, waving to passing neighbors, trading sheets of comics, falling asleep to the smell of grass. The sound of the Union bells brings me back to now and I smile as I listen to Barbara's bursting laughter, Patrick's countless stories, Alison's account of busy schedules. I hear music on my left ear from over there and music on my right ear from over there. Bicycles bicycles bicycles. A beautiful fixie that I envy so much, that impractical double-weld receiving the attention it asks for, the freespirit, the peugeot, the dawes. Somehow they water the lawn at an invisible time so the grass is not even damp for the hours we sit. Alison went crazy about the bugs. I don't realize they exist until Patrick killed the beetle. Last year I'd sleep on the grass between Physics and Calculus. I'd wake to nearby slack-liners laughing or to the heat of the now lacking shade or to the deep bells telling me I was late and I'd walk into class smelling of summer grass, the print of which still on my face and arms. This year I sit in circles of people. Add two friends, Hello Kyle, nice to meet you Blade, minus 1 friend, have fun in History, add a couple more, Hi Erin, Hi Tony, welcome to our circle, goodbye Barbara, Institute is overrated, class at 2, goodbye friends. Until tomorrow. I try to stay on the grass to keep away from the bankers, the club presidents, the proactive volunteers. If they approach me I look at my friends as we talk as to not give the salesman too much comfort. Just leave us alone; I have an account, he has too much debt, she's with that other credit union, no I don't want a credit card, my mom says I don't need one. Can't we just have that football? So many people, so many haircuts, so many shoes, so many friends, so many legs, so many sunglasses, so many loners, so many ipods, so many ideas, so many. Hungry for a brownie I pay a visit to Slim Jim with the bow-tie. Welcome everybody! It's impossible to walk with Alison, with Barbara, they know too many people. I would love to read my book, but I know I'd only move my eyes left to right left to right and stare right through all 1531 pages, accidentally listening to College happen around me.