Happy Birthday Wolfy

In this episode of “Sometimes I leave my apartment and don’t go to my office, Kroger, the library, band, or church,”¹ I celebrate Mozart’s birthday with the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra (A²SO) at the Michigan Theater. Because I’m cheap, I only pay to sit in the back of the balcony. Will I be able to hear the orchestra? Will I be able to see the orchestra? Will Mozart be properly feted? Find out next time right after this commercial break by reading the next line.

Yes. It was a good concert. It was the first time I’ve been in the audience at the Michigan Theater instead of on the stage². I could see and hear just fine, unless scores of people reading this are now going to buy balcony tickets at future A²SO performances, in which case my seat was horrible; there was a pillar three inches in front of my face, you needed binoculars to find the stage, and the acoustics made the orchestra sound like a chorus of kazoos.

The orchestra opened with a premier of a piece by a UM composition student. That was followed by the Mozart Clarinet Concerto, which was the main/actual reason I was at Mozart’s Birthday Bash. This clarinet concerto was composed in 1791 for Anton Stadler on the Basset clarinet and was one of Mozart’s last works. It’s been used in movies – the second movement in Out of Africa and the first in The King’s Speech. During high school, I had the misfortune pleasure of suffering through playing this clarinet concerto under the tutelage of my clarinet teacher. After months of agonizing diligent practice, we produced an instant platinum album a single CD recorded by an iPhone. Naturally, when I found out the A²SO would be playing this piece, I had to get a ticket to see it.

It’s a different experience listening to a performance of a piece that you’ve spent months playing. Being familiar with a piece is one thing; knowing every rest, run, and arpeggio is quite another. But since up through the end of the eighteenth century, many composers used few dynamic/stylistic markings, every publisher (and player) of the Clarinet Concerto has a slightly different interpretation of the piece. Other things of note: the soloist played the concerto on the Basset (A) clarinet instead of transposed for the Bb clarinet, and he wore a neon yellow/gold suit jacket that I could very clearly see from the back of the theater.

After intermission, the second half of the concert featured Mozart’s first and last symphonies. His first symphony was written in 1764 at the age of eight. I was still over a year away from picking up a clarinet at the age of eight. His last symphony, Symphony No. 41, was composed in 1788. It’s a little more complex than his first symphony. Just slightly. It’s three times as long, is scored for more instruments, and includes five themes going at the same time at the end of the fourth movement. But. Both his first and last symphonies contain the same four note motif . . . just surrounded by parts of varying complexity. I think that’s pretty cool.

And so, with a final chord, Mozart’s Birthday Bash concluded. I enjoyed myself, and also the chance to be in front of the stage, instead of on or behind it, for once.

¹Seriously, I haven’t left the Ann Arbor city limits in over two months. I have some thoughts on why this feels different from never leaving Ithaca while I was at Cornell, but I think that needs to be its own post.

²The Ann Arbor Concert Band also performs at the Michigan Theater.

Minutes, Miles, and Numbers

This is the time of year when I divulge how much little I biked, practiced the clarinet, read, and wrote last year. I did, however, watch a fair number of movies and TV shows. And yes, I really do keep track of all this information, because I like numbers and it makes it easy to give book/movie recommendations, which I was recently asked to do, so there.

Because of my tendency to leave for my class that was a mile away from my office five to ten minutes before class was scheduled to start, a few early December bike rides meant I rode my bike in every month of 2017. I only rode once in the months of January, February, and March (twice out of necessity, once on an unseasonably warm day to the farmer’s market), but once counts. In July alone I covered over a hundred miles on twenty-two days. A lot of those were short rides between my office and apartment, with longer rides across Ann Arbor on the weekends. My highest single day distance was 16.5 miles, on a day when I went grocery shopping and visited two library branches and the mall. Over the whole year, I biked 105 days (29% of the year) and rode 467 miles (about the distance from Boston to Washington, DC).

Biking mileage for 2017 by month

Since my return to concert band, I’ve been practicing the clarinet on my own again. I tried/try to be reasonably consistent about practicing. Looking at the graph below, there must have been something hard about our third and fourth concerts last year to get me to practice that much in March, but I don’t remember what. I definitely also took a break over the summer when I didn’t have any concert band music to work through.  Practice total for the year: 73 hours.  This doesn't include playing for fun, band rehearsals, or concerts.

Time spent practicing clarinet in 2017 by month

I also watched 62 movies, including close to two dozen musicals, and read 61 books, roughly a quarter of which were nonfiction and three quarters were fiction. I spent my summer reading research papers. My brain could take only so much educational material. Coming soon – a post with some of my favorite books and movies I watched last year.

Finally, I’ve been writing (or not writing) here for over five years now. The picture below sums up five years of writing.

Graph of blog posts vs month for the past five years
(Click to enlarge)

Apple, apple, watermelon, strawberry

When I was first learning to play the clarinet, one of my music teachers told us how to count rhythms with fruit. It’s one of those funny things you do in band, like imagining you have a string attached to the top of your head that goes up to the ceiling and makes you sit up straight. But about the fruit. Words naturally have their own rhythms, some of which happen to coincide nicely with common musical rhythms. For example, “apple” is segmented into two even syllables that count off eighth notes neatly. We also use peach for quarter notes, pear for half notes, watermelon for sixteenth notes, strawberry for triplets, and blueberry for an eighth note followed by two sixteenth notes.¹

The title rhythm notated musically, verbally, and fruit-ically

The fruit was fun. Learning to play right hand C was not. The background you need to know for this involves two things: the key system of the clarinet and my hands. First, my hands. I am the size of a middle schooler. Second, the clarinet key system. The most commonly used key system is the Boehm system, and a handful of notes, including the C mentioned at the top of this paragraph, can be played either with your left or right pinky. When I first started playing in fourth grade, my hand was physically too small to reach the right hand C without much pain and struggle. I chose to avoid much pain and struggle by playing middle C with my left hand all the time. This continued throughout all of middle school and the first half of ninth grade. Then I started taking clarinet lessons.

During my very first lesson, my teacher asked me to play a two octave C scale and instantly noticed I was playing left hand C. She immediately started working to change that, because reasons. Actually, you need to be able to play both right and left hand C so that you can finger certain not uncommon runs and intervals.

Among the many ironies of my life, as I was being forced encouraged to play right hand C, we were preparing for our last concert of the year. One of our pieces was a medley of songs from The Little Mermaid. During “Under the Sea,” the third clarinets play an arpeggio in C, which is our home key². Except that the arpeggio goes from open G to middle C, a fingering change that moves from all holes open to all fingers on deck. I tried. I managed to get it a couple of times during rehearsal. Then I played the part with left hand C during the concert.

I’ve learned a lot of things in band over the years. I still remember my elementary school band teacher coming into the cafeteria at lunch time to sing solfege with the whole grade. Before every concert in middle school, we were reminded that early is on time. And then there’s all we learned about fingerings, working through tricky rhythms, breathing, shaping the line, balance, intonation, and right hand C. I play it like that by default now. Most of the time.

¹Five notes in a beat is “university,” six can be thought of as two triplets smashed together in one beat, and by the time you get to seven or more, you give up counting, fake lots of notes, and come in at the next downbeat.

²It’s our musical happy place. We have no sharps or flats.

Hezekiah’s Next Big Adventure

Hezekiah and I have been through a lot together. Band rehearsals three or four times a week for most of middle school and high school. Clarinet lessons. Concerts. Music festivals. Four years of pep band, including: the time it snowed at lacrosse, the time I chipped my mouthpiece by dropping my clarinet at Lynah, the time it poured at sprint football, and the other time it poured at baseball. We’ve rattled around in buses, bumped along on my bike, been carted around in cars, soared on a plane, and made the move from New England to Ithaca to Ann Arbor. Our latest venture: the Ann Arbor Concert Band.

The week I moved into my apartment, Hezekiah, Cyrille, and I set off to conquer the Ann Arbor bus system. Earlier that day, I had gone to get my MCard made, so we rode for free, courtesy of the University of Michigan. With the help of Google maps and my phone, I found the site where auditions were being held. A couple of weeks later, I found myself at my first concert band rehearsal in over four years. Over the next two hours, we sight read Vaughn Williams, Mussorgsky, Tchaikovsky, and the now infamous Menotti. Sight reading is not one of my best musical skills. It was a long two hours.

As a perennial stalwart of the third clarinet section, my talents lean more toward things not involving high notes or fast rhythms, or horror of horrors, high notes and fast rhythms. Polka bass line with the tubas? You got it. Obscure part written only into the third clarinet and second trumpet? Sure thing. Counting 78 measures of the same note? No problem.

Why do I mention these things? Because I spent the year back in the third clarinet section. I alternated between the third and first clarinet parts in high school, played second clarinet in pep band, and am now reprising my role in the wonderful world of the third clarinet, with occasional forays into the fourth clarinet part. It’s been a great experience so far. When I decided to go to grad school, I knew that I didn’t want to be shut up in my office all the time. The purpose of grad school is to be doing research, but I’ve met grad students from Cornell who weren’t sure where the Dairy Bar was. It’s the Dairy Bar. There’s ice cream there. Ice cream. Cold, delicious, creamy ice cream in all sorts of flavors you never knew you wanted to try. And also cheese curds.

That’s one of the reasons I joined a community band – to get off campus and be a part of the community I’ll be living in for the next few years. A couple weeks ago, I played my fourth concert with the AACB, the last concert of this season before our summer break. There was a lot of fun music. “Slava!” by Leonard Bernstein – the wind ensemble at my high school played it one year, a piece by Grainger – I played a different piece by him that involved singing my second year at district band, “Hungarian Rondo” by Carl Maria von Weber – I butchered the first movement of his clarinet concerto in F minor at all state auditions my senior year of high school. It was a good concert. Signing off now; I should go practice my long tones and syncopation.

Halfway There

During my freshman year of high school I was mandatorily made to join the marching band if I wanted to be part of concert band. It was a bit of a misnomer because we didn't do any marching. We spent the time at football games watching the clock, learning the cheerleaders’ cheers, and trying to keep warm enough to be able to play. Then for about ten minutes in the middle of the whole ordeal, we’d run onto the field, stand there, and play the halftime show before running off. One of the songs in our halftime show was “Livin’ On A Prayer” by Bon Jovi. The chorus of that song goes as follows: “Whoa, we’re halfway there/Livin’ on a prayer/Take my hand and we’ll make it – I swear/Livin’ on a prayer.” Seems fitting to describe the first half of my college career.

What have I learned so far? No matter how early you start p-chem or fluids homework, you will always be finishing both problem sets at 2 in the morning on Friday. There’s no such thing as “a quick question.” Always carry an extra pair of socks. Earplugs aren't a bad idea either. I also solved the Navier Stokes equations, discovered the wonders of quantum tunneling, celebrated Valentine’s Day with MATLAB, used both the very sophisticated coffee cup calorimeter and a bomb calorimeter, and much, much more.

This past semester was my busiest yet (though according to my preliminary data analysis I actually got more sleep this semester than last) but it was also a whole lot of fun. There were impromptu field trips, baking mishaps, the end of hockey season, the start of the MLS season, and penguins.

I currently have a few weeks off and I’m hoping to do some writing here before I have to get back to work. There are some usual end-of-semester posts I’ll put together and then I’d like to highlight some of the things that made my spring semester so busy. [Problem sets. So many problem sets.]

This x 25 = problem sets for the Spring 2014 semester

Road Tripping: Madison Square Garden

I left off after we did the Walk of Waiting for Traffic Lights and the Obstacle Course of Stationary People and made it to Madison Square Garden (MSG). Once we got to MSG, we had to do more waiting, first to get our tickets so we could go up an escalator, then in a hallway outside what turned out to be the Delta Sky 360 Club. We went in to play the Alma Mater, which is probably the only way I’ll ever get into a Sky Club. There is, however, a sky lounge in each of the high rises at Cornell.

After the Alma Mater, we walked over to the rink. The stadium was massive compared to Lynah. We were in the second level of seats behind the Cornell goal. The view wasn't bad, but it was starting to get far enough away that there were a few “where’s the puck?” moments. Of course that happens occasionally at Lynah, even if you’re on the ice . . . funny moment at Lynah from last year: the band was at the rink when it was mostly empty so It must have been during warm ups or the red-white game (when Cornell scrimmages itself). Either way, it was quiet enough so that when things got a little heated we could very clearly hear one of the players scream “where is the ******* puck?” Don’t worry, we told him where it was.

MSG before the game

Back at MSG, we didn't get to play our usual pre-game sets, and not just because Boston University’s band was there. MSG had announcements straight up until they announced the players and played the National Anthem. And then they had ads for BU and Cornell throughout the entire game, which was nice, but honestly, if you were there, I think you knew about both schools in the first place.

The game was a slight disappointment. It was mostly evenly matched until BU scored their first goal. Then Cornell could not get their offence started. Third period saw Cornell losing 3-0. It was not good.

In the end, Cornell came back for two goals, and there were a few times in the final minutes where it looked like they had a shot to tie the game. It turned out they couldn't, but they gave it a try. I still had a fun time and it was pretty cool to see this on the screens when we walked in:

Of course, even without overtime, we left New York City at 11:30, an hour later than we were scheduled to. I slept most of the bus ride back to Ithaca. MSG was a cool experience, but I was excited to be playing in Lynah again. Everyone’s close to the ice, it’s loud in a good way, and (almost) everyone’s a Cornell fan. Also, after navigating the seas of people, I was thrilled to be going back to Cornell in general, because 1) it’s in the middle of nowhere and 2) I get to see the same people (ChemEs) every day.

Are You Gonna Be My Girl?

As strange and unlikely as it may sound, I get asked this question every few weeks. Sometimes twice in a week. My top answers are “Only Time Will Tell,” “Call Me,” and “Hold On, I’m Comin’.” If you’re thinking that my capitalization needs work, good catch. All of the above, including “Are You Gonna Be My Girl?” are songs in our pep band folder. I have never been asked “Are you gonna be my girl?” in real life because I do not live in a bad 80s sitcom, contrary to what my pep band folder may indicate.

Though I would take bad 80s sitcom over most of what’s on TV today, notable exceptions being Jeopardy!, Sherlock, The Legend of Korra, anything involving the Revolution, and the Spanish channel. Just for fun, last year I calculated the average release date for most of the songs in our pep band folder and it came out to be around 1978. The oldest song we have, not including the Alma Mater and “Anchors Aweigh” (which we play when Army comes to Cornell), is “Basin Street Blues,” from 1926. The newest that I found was “Some Nights,” released in 2012 by Fun.

So hockey season is in full swing, meaning that the band will be busy pretty much every weekend from now until post-winter (known in more southern climates as “spring”). This past weekend we had two women’s hockey games and the men’s basketball home opener.

The women’s hockey team beat RPI 3-1 and Union 8-1. I discovered I can put my pep band shirt on over my fleece jacket, which is nice because it’s cold in Lynah when we’re not surrounded by 4000 other people. The crowds were decent for the games, but for women’s hockey the band stands on the opposite side of the rink from the main crowd. The point is, it’s cold.

The RPI game was either a little lacking in offense or the teams were evenly matched, because the score was pretty low as far as women’s hockey goes. The Union game, on the other hand, was a fairly high-scoring affair for Cornell. One of the most exciting goals from the weekend came in the first period of the RPI game. Cornell had a 1-0 lead and as the clock was counting down, one of the Cornell players took a shot. The puck hit the net just as the buzzer sounded. This was closer than the time Cornell scored with one second left in a playoff match to win the game.

By this point, the band had already played Davy (the fight song) and the teams were leaving the ice. The goal, which had been up on the scoreboard, was taken down and the referees went to review the play. Well, then, did the band play Davy for the end of the period or for the goal? Both. Because as it turned out, the puck crossed the line with one tenth of a second left on the clock. We knew it was a goal the whole time. Really.

Women's hockey vs. Northeastern a few weeks ago

Sunday afternoon we went to the men’s basketball home opener against Loyola, and other people actually showed up, unlike that one women’s basketball game. . . .  The team started out well, but throughout the game the score stayed close. Cornell actually went into the final minute of the game down by several points. They made a basket, bringing them within two points. In Cornell’s last play of the game, one of the Cornell players goes up to shoot, and misses . . . but gets fouled. Two free throws. Newman Arena is getting excited. The player makes the first shot, then makes the second. Loyola has time for one desperation shot, which they miss, sending the game into overtime.

Basketball overtime rarely happens, due to the nature of the game, but it happened on Sunday. Cornell stayed with Loyola until the final minute, but in the end, they missed a couple shots, didn't block a couple others, and lost 89-93. Definitely ranks as one of the craziest finishes to a game I've seen. Between basketball overtime, a couple slam dunks, and hockey, it was an exciting weekend for the band.

And I did this to my clarinet mouthpiece:

Fortunately I have a spare.

(If you don't know what a clarinet mouthpiece is supposed to look like, here's my spare.  Specifically, look along the top edge of the mouthpiece. That v-shaped dent in the top picture? That’s where it chipped off completely.)

Dear Mozart,

I know a lot of people think you were a genius – don’t get me wrong; I think you’re a genius too, at least when it comes to music – but I've spent a lot of time playing your clarinet concerto (in A major, K. 622), and Hezekiah and I had a few comments to make. In case you were wondering, Hezekiah’s my clarinet. Did you ever name any of your instruments? Zorobabel might have been a nice name for a piano. Or maybe Jechonias?

Anyway, I just wanted to ask if you needed to put quite so many notes into your clarinet concerto, especially in some parts of the first movement. It really does sound nice, but some of those long sixteenth note runs start making my fingers get all tangled up with each other. At least some of them are slurred, but people lost your original copy of the concerto with all your markings about articulation and dynamics, so the publishers today have to guess at how you meant it to be. I hope you didn't mean for everything to be tongued, because then I’d have been playing it wrong and it would be even harder than it is already.

And then in the second movement, I don’t think there are too many notes there, but it’s all slow and legato, which is difficult for Hezekiah. If you ever heard me and Hezekiah playing your clarinet concerto, I just wanted to make sure that you knew we weren't trying to insult your piece by playing it badly. It’s just that Hezekiah wasn't made for the most advanced music. He’s enjoying the pep band now, though. Maybe you could come and see us sometime?

Lastly, the third movement is my favorite of the concerto, but there’s one particularly annoying part. First off, there are some tricky sixteenth note arpeggios. Second, these arpeggios end really high. When I say high, I mean high enough that people might need to start checking their eardrums for bleeding. Finally, between each set of arpeggios is a sixteenth note rest. I don’t know if you've ever played a woodwind or brass instrument, but sixteenth note rests present an interesting dilemma for those instruments. At the speed of the third movement, a sixteenth note is too short to take a proper breath, but too long to stop the air and wait. You sometimes end up taking a half breath then having to rush to play again and in the process half choking. Just something for you to think about.

Well, I hope I haven’t detained you from your composing too long. I really do like your clarinet concerto, and thought we could have a little discussion about it, musician to composer. Happy composing!

What I've Learned at Cornell (Take Two)

No, this is still not a philosophical discussion about institutes of higher education, but this post will have a slightly more academic focus than the last one . . . make that a very slightly more academic focus.
In an attempt to sound vaguely serious about this, here goes:

1. Independent study in the lab (or: What to do when faced with beakers with questionable pasts, three funnels, and no test tube rack): General Chemistry lab drawers tend to be stocked with things like the test tube with the burnt sugar stuck to the bottom and the possibly cracked beaker, and sometimes we may have had a tendency to play musical lab equipment. Equipment notwithstanding, we were forced to do lab work without much guidance (don’t worry, we were still supervised). Sometimes we were given a goal and had to come up with our own procedures, which I guess was probably useful in preparing us for the future, when we’re not going to get step by step instructions for everything. In fact, we’re going to have to come up with our own goals as well. . . . The world should probably start preparing for me right about . . . now.

2. How to put your best foot forward (or: How to sell yourself): Good news; it doesn't end with college applications! At the start of spring semester, I decided I wanted to get a job and join the workforce of disgruntled, underpaid student employees at Cornell.* Job applications require you to again, present yourself in a positive way, but this time, instead of taking $50,000 of your money every year for four years, they give you minimum wage. I really don’t have any foolproof advice for getting a job (or getting into college), but don’t sell yourself short and also don’t try to be something you aren't. Especially if your potential employer is going to ask for a demonstration of backwards curling while riding a unicycle.

3. Thinking on your feet (or: Improvisational lighting; or: No one knew the band was coming . . . again): Between pep band and Cornell Productions, I had my share of going with the flow this year. Working at Cornell Productions, I learned a lot by doing. You’re not getting paid to know the theory and history of different types of lighting; you’re getting paid to set up lighting and haul around sound equipment, chairs, and risers. Similarly, for whatever reason, the pep band would occasionally show up to events only to have the person in charge have no idea that twenty-five people with large metal and plastic objects would be there. That usually meant we’d have to watch our conductor for once extra closely for emergency cutoffs, especially if the announcer started frantically gesturing at us.

4. Responsibility and independence (or: You should still eat and sleep): When you get to college, you soon realize you can do almost anything you want to (almost anything being anything legal and within reason). Ice cream for breakfast? Sure. Sleep through morning classes then play video games during afternoon classes? Go right ahead. On the other hand, you can also skip meals to study and stay up to four in the morning doing homework. Choose wisely. (And really, don’t forget to eat and sleep.)

5. Office hours (or: What is the answer to the question of life, the universe, and everything?): When in doubt, guess three. And then go to office hours. This one depends on the TAs (and the professor), but if the TAs are good, and you have a few questions about the material no idea what the heck is going on in class, go to office hours. My intro to ChemE group and I spent a lot of time at office hours first semester. Mainly to comment on how confused we were, but we did also have a few legitimate questions. As an added bonus, if you stay long enough, the TAs will sometimes give away the answer to the ridiculous problem you've been assigned for homework. True story.

Bonus: Instrument maintenance (or: But actually, scrape out the yellow stuff in your clarinet mouthpiece): No, it was not mold. And yes, my clarinet magically plays a lot better now.

*So far, my work experiences have been overwhelmingly positive. I even make more than minimum wage. Also, this seems to be as good a time as any to say that besides returning to my job with Cornell Productions in the fall, I've also been accepted as a Cornell blogger. I know, you can’t wait for even more of my charming wit and intellect.

Why I Don’t Wear Nail Polish

Three reasons: Hezekiah, the Lindseth climbing wall, and the general state of my nails.  Reason three is probably caused by reasons one and two, but I’m still counting it.

Reason one: As a clarinet, Hezekiah happens to have a lot of little screws and pins that can be quite sharp.  As a clarinetist, I manipulate these screws and pins, and in the process have more than enough opportunities to scratch my fingernails.  Any nail polish on them would come out looking like a Jackson Pollock painting.

Reason two: Since I started rock climbing, besides discovering various muscles in my arms, I've been using my limbs in some unusual ways.  As it turns out, you can lift your leg to your waist while balancing on an outcropping of rock approximately half a centimeter wide.  And a pocket (a type of hold that looks like a hole in the wall) is sloped the wrong way for you to find a fingerhold?  Just shove your whole hand in there.

That technique is known as a hand jam.  To hand jam, simply slide your hand into the desired hold and make a fist.  Your hand is now wider and hopefully will hold your weight.  If it doesn't, well, that’s when you may lose some skin off your hand and quite possibly any nail polish you have on.

Which is why I just avoid the problem by never painting my nails.  They’re already decorated with scratches from my clarinet and a layer of dirt, which leads to reason three: in general, my fingernails aren't in a state to be painted, and if they were, I’m probably about five minutes away from going to play in a mud puddle or something like that.

Basically, I never paint my nails because I’d destroy them within ten minutes of the nail polish drying, but for those of you who do, don’t worry, I’m not going to go around throwing nail polish remover on peoples’ hands.   But let’s not go into what I think about fake nails.

No fingernails were intentionally harmed in the production of this post.  Legitimate Photographic evidence can be supplied at request.

[In other news, I just survived working HEC weekend. Details will follow, but suffice it to say, it sure was an experience. And now, this coming week I have two prelims, a pep band trip, and an essay to write. Was it the smartest idea to work all three days of HEC weekend? Probably not. Do I regret it? Not a bit.]

A Link to the Past

No, not the video game (although Legend of Zelda is probably my favorite video game series).  We’re a little light on Cornell news right now since I’m not actually at Cornell, but I haven’t been [completely] wasting my time.

Last week, I drove to my now former high school to pick my brother up.  I had done this a few times over break, but this time I decided to pay a visit to my band conductor and clarinet teacher.  I started private lessons halfway through my freshman year and continued right up until I left for Cornell this past summer.  Granted, the summer lessons were less “let’s play sixteenth notes at 120 beats per measure until your fingers fall off” and more about playing things for fun.

I learned the clarinet solo at the beginning of “Rhapsody In Blue,” one of about two times clarinet vibrato is ever acceptable.  In case you were wondering, the other is when doing “dog howling at the moon” impressions, which are particularly lifelike when you have, say, twenty clarinets all playing vibrato at the same time.  (This actually happened at districts my junior year, to make a point about why twenty clarinets should never play vibrato at the same time.)

Anyway, while I was visiting, I realized it was kind of weird being back.  There were cars leaving to go home, but when you live on campus, you never really feel like you've left school.  This means that the dense fog of math/science/engineering confusion, in which Schrödinger wavefunctions and distillation columns feature prominently, settles more or less permanently around you for the duration of the semester.  Then there was the fact that everyone was crowded into one building.  At Cornell, there were days when I had to walk up to five miles, to get to classes in the morning, lunch, then pep band, dinner, and office hours at night.  All in different buildings.

And then I realized that it had been four and a half years since I had first set foot in that building as a student. Some of the kids walking around were four or five years younger than I was. They were still all bigger than me.