Used Books

It was snowing big thick flakes when Justin and I left the campus center to make the walk to the rare-and-used book store, DJ Ernst, on Market Street. It’s a fun way to spend a Saturday afternoon, scanning the old cracked spines to see what jumps out at you. Because you never know what you’ll find, and as cliché as that sounds, it’s true. I picked up John Updike’s Terrorist, Graham Greene’s The Power and The Glory, Stephen Crane’s Red Badge of Courage, and an autobiography of the Dalai Lama.

Justin was broke, and all I had was a dollar in my wallet and some quarters in my pocket, but we were still able to walk out with ten 50-cent paperbacks between the two of us.

We came in about twenty minutes till closing time, but the store owner had no problem chatting with me about books while Justin made his final selections. The owner has always struck me as a person who just genuinely loves books. He reads and has read many of the books that pass through his store.

When Justin had his third and final book in hand, the owner rang up the purchase on an antique cash register, tapping its metal keys, rattling it like a typewriter.

Laundry Day

Laundry is an essential aspect of campus life.

I clean my clothes at the laundromat a block off campus.  It's cheaper than using the on-campus machines, and if you have more than one load to do, it's usually quicker too.  (Plus, it's kinda fun to watch the clothes swirling around in the machines.)

If you don't happen to have a girlfriend with a car who can drive you to the laundromat, the washers and dryers on campus can get the job done.  All the major residence halls have them.  Half the machines are coin-operated, and half are card-swipe, drawing cash from an account linked to your student ID.

The Sunbury Ice Rink

The scariest thing I did this week was on Saturday, when we went to the Sunbury Ice Rink and I learned how to ice skate.

The Sunbury Ice Rink is just a twenty minute drive up the river from Susquehanna. The rink is where Susquehanna, Bucknell, and Bloomsburg Universities all play their hockey games. The place is a little tricky to find (we had to stop and ask directions), but it’s worth the search. Altogether admission and skate renting will only set you back $5.

Next to the big fireplace outside the rink, Holly showed me how to lace up my skates. Then she talked me into standing up on those two thin little blades, and she lead me out to the ice.

After much wobbling, slipping, near-falling, and death-gripping of Holly’s hand, I finally started to get the hang of it. Soon I found myself passing the little girl in the pink coat who’d been lapping me all night.

Eventually I lost track of how many times I’d passed her, and ice skating shifted from kind of scary to really fun. I could let go Holly’s hand and move away from the wall. I could go faster. I could watch Kelly skate backwards around the rink or Andrew wildly flapping his arms to regain his balance as he went around the turn. I could enjoy the way my breath came out in little clouds and listen to the local radio station’s eighties after eight that the rink was pumping through the speakers. I could skate.

And I didn’t fall once all night. (I swear!)

Me, braving the ice rink.

88.9 WQSU-FM "The Pulse"

“You don’t have to keep backing up,” Kristen—that is, DJ K-Ri—tells me.

Sitting in a swivel chair behind the glowing mixing board in the WQSU control room has me feeling a little jumpy, but Kristen seems confident enough.

WQSU-FM is the 12,000-watt radio station in Susquehanna's campus center. The station broadcasts FM music and talk to places as far away as Bloomsburg and Williamsport and also streams its audio online.  I’ve walked past the place plenty of times—it’s got big glass windows that let you look in on the DJ as you walk by—but I’ve never been inside before.

The neon-blue clock in the corner is a reminder that everything has to be perfectly timed out. At the top of the hour, Kristen plays the station ID then the news report—which lasts exactly three minutes—before she goes on the air and gives the weather forecast.

Kristen is a creative writing/religion double major.  Her shifts at the station count as practicum for her broadcasting minor, but the station isn't reserved for communications students. The mic is open to any would-be DJs on campus.

After Kristen puts on “Poison” by Alice Cooper, she pulls off her headphones and turns to me. “Okay, we can talk now.”  The music plays softly through speakers that hang over our heads.

“So how do you make sure the news goes on right at 4:00?”

She smiles, nodding toward the paper and pencil sitting in front of her. “I use math.”

Once the music’s playing, things become more relaxed.  Kristen's friends pop in and out of the station, plopping down on the couch to talk to her for a few mintues before heading out again. 

Kristen mostly fills her two-hour shifts with contemporary, classic, and alternative rock with an occasional request mixed in. The station has two computers loaded with music: 15,000 songs on the one and another 18,000 on the other!

Half way through the Audio Slave track, a small strobe light above the telephone announces a call-in request. Kristen shakes her head as she hangs up the phone.  "I hate Bob Dylan," she says, but she cues up “Isis” anyway on the second Mac.  Bob Dylan is a step up from last week when she got a request for "Total Eclipse of the Heart." 

"Everyone walking by was looking at me like 'What are you doing?' and the song lasts like seven minutes."  Kristen shakes her head.  "It was awful."

Then as the Audio Slave song finishes up, she turns to the mixing board and fades the first computer out as she fades the second computer in.  A seamless transition.

Listen to WQSU-FM online.

More about WQSU.

Floating Down the Susquehanna River

Saturday was supposed to be Fall Frenzy at SU (and, technically, it was), but really it was too blue-skied, warm, and sunny to be anything other than one of the few remaining days of the summer. My girlfriend, convinced that this was not a day to be wasted, suggested we go tubing.

For two dollars apiece, you can rent big black inner tubes from the Info Desk in Deg. Before I knew what was going, Holly had borrowed $12 out of my wallet and we were trying to figure out how to squeeze six inner tubes and six people into two cars.

We dropped Corinne’s car off on the Isle of Que, then drove the two other cars we’d loaded with inner tubes upstream to the Selinsgrove boat dock. Once everyone’s car keys were safely fastened to the strap of Corinne’s swimsuit, we boarded our vessels ("Jodi," "Hobut," "Bubba II," "Jay," and "Doughnut") and took to the water.

We spent the next two hours drifting down stream, warmed by the sun and cooled by the water, watching the railroad trussles in the distances slowly grow larger as dragonflies skimmed the surface of the river. Very chill.

When the railroad tracks finally passed over our heads, it was time to make a frantic, awkward-inner-tube paddle back to the Isle of Que so we wouldn’t float past Corrinne’s car, our ride home.