Big Booty.
Con question. Anyone going to Connecticon? Or even better, anyone who has gone in the past? Or knows anything about it? It looks awfully good and Freezepop will play there, but it won't come cheap.
Fourth of July was a stereotypical meat-friends-and-fireworks type of event. The food was amazing and superabundant, thanks to the efforts of sandomi, massena, purplemb13, Karl, Sara, and a few other folks who I inevitably have forgotten or overlooked. Details are available on his food post. Absurd amounts of meat (seven or eight pounds) and dessert (banana breads, blueberry pie, shortcake, and The Cake) is the brief description. This was all down at Linear Park where a little road breaks off of Route 43 just outside campus and crosses the Green River. It's a great semi-secluded location with green space, several benches, a grill, a playground, and river access. Semi-secluded as it feels like it's in the middle of nowhere, an impression contradicted by the random assemblages of people that shared the space over the six hours of the cookout. Even Morales and family passed through. Eating occupied most of the time but there were also games of Set, Settlers, Guillotine, as well as swimming and frisbee tossing.
Fireworks were in North Adams, and as expected, except for Big Booty.
Tradition holds that Big Booty originated at a frisbee tournament. But with WUFO members becoming WOOLF leaders and JAs, such historical distinctions become blurred and the game must be seen as part of the traditional lifeblood of Williams College. Folks gather in a circle. A leader is chosen and designated "Big Booty." After an opening trope of "Biiiiiiiiiiggggg BOO-ty big BOO-ty big BOO-ty, (beat) oh YEAH, (beat) big BOO-ty" and a raising of the hands, the players settle into a rhythm slapping their legs and clapping. Big Booty starts with the phrase "big BOO-ty number three," for example. The third player to the left of Big Booty must pick up the phrase in rhythm and continue "number THREE, number FIVE," if they wish to pass it off to a player five to the left of Big Booty. This continues until the inevitable flubbing of a line. The loser enters the center of the circle and dances (The Booty Dance) until another player makes a mistake, after which they re-enter the circle.
Why all the exposition? We (myself, Catherine, Karl, another Daniel, Andy, and Mary Beth) started playing it to pass the time waiting for the fireworks display to start. Then a local high school student asked if we were playing Big Booty and ended up in the circle. Then three younger folk (preteens, but I'm bad with guessing ages) asked, more hesitantly, if they could play and they too joined the circle. So for twenty minutes, we made joyous fools of ourselves and did something with people who we'd never come across at school. It was a priceless experience hearing the kids sing the Big Booty song during the fireworks.
Heading back from the show in the WOC van, some local "dropped trou" at us. That was less priceless.
And I haven't become completely vapid in the last weeks. I'm thinking about grad school, honest. Annoyingly, there are three GREs in my future (general, Math, and Biology). I am greatly amused by the archly cynical Modest Advice for Graduate Students by Steve Stearns. And for less cynical and more actionable advice, there's a primer that Morales linked to on his website. Good to think about.
Fourth of July was a stereotypical meat-friends-and-fireworks type of event. The food was amazing and superabundant, thanks to the efforts of sandomi, massena, purplemb13, Karl, Sara, and a few other folks who I inevitably have forgotten or overlooked. Details are available on his food post. Absurd amounts of meat (seven or eight pounds) and dessert (banana breads, blueberry pie, shortcake, and The Cake) is the brief description. This was all down at Linear Park where a little road breaks off of Route 43 just outside campus and crosses the Green River. It's a great semi-secluded location with green space, several benches, a grill, a playground, and river access. Semi-secluded as it feels like it's in the middle of nowhere, an impression contradicted by the random assemblages of people that shared the space over the six hours of the cookout. Even Morales and family passed through. Eating occupied most of the time but there were also games of Set, Settlers, Guillotine, as well as swimming and frisbee tossing.
Fireworks were in North Adams, and as expected, except for Big Booty.
Tradition holds that Big Booty originated at a frisbee tournament. But with WUFO members becoming WOOLF leaders and JAs, such historical distinctions become blurred and the game must be seen as part of the traditional lifeblood of Williams College. Folks gather in a circle. A leader is chosen and designated "Big Booty." After an opening trope of "Biiiiiiiiiiggggg BOO-ty big BOO-ty big BOO-ty, (beat) oh YEAH, (beat) big BOO-ty" and a raising of the hands, the players settle into a rhythm slapping their legs and clapping. Big Booty starts with the phrase "big BOO-ty number three," for example. The third player to the left of Big Booty must pick up the phrase in rhythm and continue "number THREE, number FIVE," if they wish to pass it off to a player five to the left of Big Booty. This continues until the inevitable flubbing of a line. The loser enters the center of the circle and dances (The Booty Dance) until another player makes a mistake, after which they re-enter the circle.
Why all the exposition? We (myself, Catherine, Karl, another Daniel, Andy, and Mary Beth) started playing it to pass the time waiting for the fireworks display to start. Then a local high school student asked if we were playing Big Booty and ended up in the circle. Then three younger folk (preteens, but I'm bad with guessing ages) asked, more hesitantly, if they could play and they too joined the circle. So for twenty minutes, we made joyous fools of ourselves and did something with people who we'd never come across at school. It was a priceless experience hearing the kids sing the Big Booty song during the fireworks.
Heading back from the show in the WOC van, some local "dropped trou" at us. That was less priceless.
And I haven't become completely vapid in the last weeks. I'm thinking about grad school, honest. Annoyingly, there are three GREs in my future (general, Math, and Biology). I am greatly amused by the archly cynical Modest Advice for Graduate Students by Steve Stearns. And for less cynical and more actionable advice, there's a primer that Morales linked to on his website. Good to think about.