Going a bit Nuts

The Residence Life Ferries granted me one of the most conveniently located dorms Hipster College has to offer. For one thing, my building is on main campus; a lot of Freshmen get stuck in an apartment-building-converted-dormitory known as Hill House. While it’s a 20 minute walk from Hill to Bates (the Center for Student Life), all of the rooms are suit/apartment style, which feels pretty swanky when you’re 18¹. The suit I toured was complete with wood floors, a kitchen, a living space, a private bathroom (for four-six other people!), and two bedrooms that serve as either doubles or triples. Maybe I’ll try Hill one year, but for now, it’s nice being up the [literal] hill from food. Even if my building has turned off the water temporarily.  

What I like almost as much as being up the walk from mail, food, and class is being right on North Quad. This means I’m twenty steps from the Tea Haus², picnic benches, exposed rock, large trees, a swing-set, and large trees. Dead grass, too, but that’s almost overlookable. This is the ideal hangout spot for-end-of-summer days, when the sun shines forgivingly, the humidity has worn off, the sky looks big again, and I can wear jeans and sweaters. Today was a perfect day for learning monologues with my [relatively] new, one-of-my-best-friends-here-at-SLC, Val, in the shade of a very large tree. I’m not much on tree-identification. We’ll get there soon enough.

North Lawn

Val flawlessly recited the last lines of her ferret-killing monologue. Erika, Val’s best friend and one of my best-friends-at-SLC checked her words. I sunbathed, having spent the better part of an hour doing Erika’s job. After they finished, we all sat in the sun, in quiet companionship, until Erika said,

“This nut is huge; what is it?”

I’m as good at identifying nuts as I am at identifying trees. Campus is littered with acorns and pinecones; we feed our black squirrels well. I was still willing to go for the nut-conversation bait. So I was like,

“I dunno. Let me see.”

I reached my hand out, eyes still closed, expecting a nut with the mass of a pebble. What I got was what felt like a piece of wood with the mass of a paperweight; startlingly large. So much so that my eyes flung open and I kicked my legs in order to sit up. Erika and Val laughed. I analyzed.

Chestnut colored. Smooth. No points. Then I flipped the nut over: a light colored circle. My eyes widened. This could only be one thing.

A buckeye.

“YOU GUYS! IT’S A BUCKEYE!” I screamed as if I’d seen a beloved, long lost relative. Nobody batted an eye around us; zealous outbursts aren’t uncommon here.

The two Hawaiians looked at the nut. Then they looked at me. “What’s a Buckeye?”

Never in my life had I met someone who didn’t know what this nut is. Okay, I’ve met several people who didn’t know what Buckeyes were, but they were from either France or Japan. 

“Thisisabuckeye.Theycomefrombuckeyetrees.They’refromOhio.ImeanwehaveagazillioninOhio.OhmygodthisissuchanOhiothing.Whydotheyhavethemhere?Ican’tbelieveit!!!”

Erika, the scientist of our trio, had questions.

“Can I eat it?”

“NO! They’re poisonous, but Buckeye candies aren’t.”

“You can make them into candies and then eat them but we can’t eat them alone?”

“No, buckeye candies are chocolate and peanut butter. They’re a big thing in Ohio. We’re called the Buckeye State.”

“Are you serious? The Buckeye State? That’s so weird.”

“Yeah, like New York is the Empire State, and Florida is the Sunshine State…”

“Washington is the Evergreen State!” Added Val.

“I think Hawaii’s the ‘Aloha’ State,” said Erika.

“Yeah, so we’re the Buckeyes.” I took pictures of the closest Ohio-ish thing I’ve found here, for the purposes of this post. “Ohio has a lot of Buckeye trees.”

“Oh. I bet it came from that tree.” Erika pointed out the large tree casting a shadow over us. I got up and analyzed. I plucked an un-ripe Buckeye plant like it was an apple. Sure enough, the tree I’d been sitting under was a token of my homeland, and I had no clue.

Erika wanted to throw the Buckeye; I begged her not to. Sure, it’s just a nut, but it was a tiny connection to home that I found on the lawn of my new home. I’m still working on the “home” vs. “home” thing. I love frolicking around New York, pretending to have permanent residence here, but I still wear a silver Ohio necklace every day.

Later Erika threw another Buckeye at me. I guess these tiny links to my home aren’t hard to come by here.  

As I walked back to my dorm to fetch my computer to write this post in the company of my friends, I realized that, for whatever reason, I was, even if the intensity of sentiment was manifested in the size of a nut, nostalgic for the Buckeye State. I had a sudden urge to go to an OSU football game, though I’ve only ever been to one. I wanted to drive down 315, get Graeter’s or Jeni’s, sit on Tanya’s porch over-looking Lake Erie, wait in line for a ride at Cedar Point, take a walk down Franklin Street or my family’s farm, and go to the Delaware County Fair.

Ohmygod it occurred to me that my family was moving its farm animals into the Delaware County Fair as I type. I am missing the Delaware County Fair⁴. Last weekend was the [no longer] All-Horse Parade⁵. What’s stupid is that I’ve missed the Delaware County fair while I lived in Delaware County, but I only care that I’m missing it now that I’m 590 miles from home.

Amusingly, when I lived in Columbus all I cared about was not being an OSU Buckeye Fan. I didn’t own an Buckeye’s Football shirt and I didn’t claim any connections to OSU, partially because I didn’t have any. I was strongly discouraged from applying to THE Ohio State University; I even looked into applying to, God forbid, the University of Michigan⁶.  

Now that I’ve been here for two weeks, I’ve gone a little nuts about Ohio-pride and products. Here at SLC I have to explain the Columbus-wide Buckeye Fandom, and it actually fills me with glee. My college friends laughed at Brutus the Buckeye and the call and response: “O-H!”

“I-O!”

I notice that I’m comforted by the way Ohio looks when it’s typed.

Ohio.

What is wrong with me?

While the Buckeyes on North Lawn triggered the Ohio-blues, I’ve been reminded of my friends and family in other means. Watching The Dead Poet’s Society did it for my dad. I called him immediately after the campus-wide viewing was over, sitting on the North Lawn swing-set at 23:30. I don’t feel pathetic about missing people and places, since I’ve experienced worse bouts of homesickness and recognize that it’s healthy. In fact, it’s kind of nice. First, you recognize that you’ve been reminded about the person/place. Then you take a moment to reflect on memories of them. Then the emotion settles in, love, sadness, or whatever. You have to recognize it, but then move on. You can’t get wrapped up in it. You can’t take the Buckeyes back to your room to put on your desk.

Even though that’s exactly what I did.

I show them off to anyone who stops by. The most common reaction:

“OH! So that’s what those are! Who knew?”

I knew. That’s what being from Ohio gets me: the ability to recognize Buckeyes anywhere.

I’ll have to learn to make those Buckeye candies; maybe I can get people to watch the Ohio State-Michigan game, where we could eat the “Buckeye candies.” The me from last year would shake my head in deep disapproval.

But the me from last year would be eagerly awaiting the gig I’ve got going now.

END NOTES

1.      You can make a white room in the basement of a building pretty swanky, too. See A Nook in the Recesses of SLC.

2.      The Tea Haus: a hobbit style, one room, “bungalow” that will sell tea…once it opens for the year

3.      An equally social and contemplative spot at Hipster College.

4.      The “All-Horse Parade” is a traditional parade, consisting of Delaware County High School Marching bands, 4-H clubs, horses, fair organizations, etc. The Brown Jug is a horse race in Ohio that takes place on Thursday the week of the fair. Kids at in the Delaware City School District get to miss school for “Jug Day.”

5.      That might actually be next weekend…but if it’s next weekend, the no-longer All Horse Parade is in two days.

That didn’t happen, though. I would’ve gotten so much shit for it though, both in Michigan for being from Ohio and in Ohio for going to U of M. I avoided the whole fiasco by applying to small liberal arts colleges…while having my heart set on another university. That’s a different story, though.