Joe Dawson ’12

For now, gather round the campfire for the last of Uncle Joe's Story Times.

I like stories much more than I like lists, so here are four of them in two installments.

Oberlin doesn't have ideal running weather all the time, but there are truly beautiful days, usually in the fall or early spring. We had a string of these last week and I decided to document my Sunday jog with a camera.

Some memories and advice about visiting campuses.

In which my hesitancy in both precludes me from a career in either.

Contents: Everything you ever need to know.

My girlfriend called to see if I was doing better, and I forgave her for her bodily functions.

What need I with pants?

With some pretty provocative pictures inside...

Brought to you by a card-carrying member of the cool committee.

I wondered what literally burying my head in the sand would get me.

Do keep in mind that during this whole exchange Jacob and I are running at a pace of 3 to 4 minutes per mile, stripped to the waist, pectorals gleaming, swatting away the female delegation from the class of '61 with other members of the class of '61. Impressed?

One needs laser sights attached to their clown wigs. Am I trying to do too much?

Now the main event of camp has my old friend sex appeal in spades. It is the Musical, and it is guaranteed to give you what you need.

READ THIS IMMEDIATELY! TIME SENSITIVE MATERIAL INSIDE!

Entry may or may not include a sick freestyle!

WARNING: contains metaphorical language you may not yet be prepared to handle.

All about Long Distance Relationships! With visual aids from animal friends and medical anomalies! Also, some kind of sobering words about your prospects for success! YAY!!!!

First off, we became an unofficial SexCo...

Quick, name Oberlin's school colors. If you said crimson and gold, you owe me $5.

Throw in stress for something that actually matters, like finals, and I'm toast. I'll be in bed at midnight, eyes open until 1:30, and awake when the sun comes up at 7.

We assumed that the men, dressed in breeches and tunics would be doing an improvised version of a well known Shakespeare play, but no.

We have been staying up late, eating mostly home-cooked food, drinking a little, and seeing a terrific amount of improv in the last four days, and our trip is only about halfway over.

I get up off of Matt's lap, there's guilt and often a little weird silence, and someone will say "Jesus, what was that?"

My college friends are truly great. Really. Plus they could totally beat up your college friends.

Things got a little hairier at this point, if I remember right, and I found new uses for my simple tools. The flat head screwdriver could be easily used as a pry bar, I found, pulling up pieces of the tape player whose screws wouldn't yield to my five year-old hands.

My friend Tino and I debuted our 'Single Ladies' dance, and Twister didn't rehash awkward puberty memories, ending the party with my tears and cries of emotional pain, like it very easily could have.

Although not a Winter Term on the West Coast, unfortunately.

At least the people on the treadmills aren't deluding themselves. They know that they're going to end up right back where they started, sweaty and out of breath.

College is not practice like high school is practice.

If I know anything about Oberlin freshmen, you're not too preoccupied worrying about what to pack and what classes you want to take to worry about other activities at Oberlin.

Although I have written before about my favorite places on campus, I left out one very important building.

If this entry had audio, it would definitely have me doing a KILLER Bill Cosby impression: "My WIFE Camille, with the Jell-O pudding pops..."

Well, no. I'm not actually going to talk about sex. Not no never. I've always been a believer that sex is sort of like music. You don't talk about making it. If you're good at it you don't talk about it. If you talk about it, you're not good at it.

This week, no matter how it manifests itself, is worth missing sleep.

Out of the stress of the earliest parts of the meeting was born an uneasy sense of confidence that we could make the audience that night laugh, either for us or at us.

What be the ferocious and intangible 3-2 Engineering Program, you ask? Aye, for one as young as you, it is a thing most mysterious and, again, intangible. Sit down, children, and I'll tell you a story that would burn the hair right off your chest to hear.

I started out this semester with the idea that I would declare Biology or Engineering as my major and get cracking on the classes I needed to fulfill the major requirements. This was to be my buckling down semester, full of sciences and maths of various shapes and flavors.

So, applicants to Oberlin will be notified of their acceptance in about a month, right? Gosh I'm glad I don't have to worry about that crap anymore.

A wordy and rambling entry rife with thoughts. There's also a picture thrown in to break things up.

I've been haunted in my sleep, you've been starring in my dreams, school I miss you...

(I know I've mentioned my difficulty with titles before.) Who knows that this won't be incredibly valuable later in life? Or that it won't be, and I'll just be thankful I did it anyway? Or that I'll regret it and it will serve as motivation for me to get going and choose a major, since time for me to do so is rapidly running out?

"My manager told me, Mitch, don't use alcohol as a crutch. I can't use alcohol as a crutch because a crutch is something that helps me walk. Alcohol severely f____ up the way I walk. It's more like the step I didn't see." --Mitch Hedberg

Finals are all over, all praise due to NoDoze. My biggest hurdle was the paper for English I wrote on The Tempest.

Interest piqued? The title is an anagram for something pretty awesome at Oberlin.

I spent last Saturday afternoon planting trees. 'Planting trees' sounds like a euphemism for something dirty. But it's not. I actually spent the afternoon planting trees.

Nothing about the title actually describes the content of this entry. Except 'Busy' and 'got to school.' Sorry, but titles are tough, dudes.

I can deal with the fact that on my list of things I am excited about I included "classes" and "renewable energy sources" because I have come to grips with the fact that I am a huuuuuuuuuge nerd.

Setting: Science Center Atrium, Thursday, October 15, Midterm week. Joe begins typing his 5th page of a roughly 6-page paper...

The class, and the Environmental Studies department, is not Environmental Science, which is the big mistake in assumption that I made going into it. I'm glad I did.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens... Oh, hello there. I was just thinking about some of my favorite things here at Oberlin. Oh, I delight in hairless monkeys, Cathy comics, putting rubbing alcohol in my eyes, and above all, some great places to hang out in Oberlin.

Ed Helms did not show up, but I made a great impression on a guy who walked into the bathroom.

I've had talks that involved intellectual topics sprinkled in among fart jokes, and discussions in class led by teachers about a particular topic of study, but no stereotypical smart talk with a lot of words like "neoclassical," "zeitgeist," and....

I'm the kind of person who enjoys anticipation. I do like getting new stuff and experiencing new adventures, but I also really enjoy thinking about them before they happen.

There is no required reading for freshmen at Oberlin, but a quick flip through Lord of the Flies could be real helpful.

Our trivia team name, which was a great source of pride, was Schindler's Bucket List, only narrowly beating Hotel Rwanda for Dogs.

*Maybe not...

My team T-Spain feat. Young Portugueezy, formerly Urethra Franklin, formerly Hurricane Kathleena and the Mansoon, really turned up the heat.

Why is it a concession stand? What exactly are you conceding? Except common sense in what a slice of damn pizza should cost.

You pick up some Yiddish at Oberlin, for those of you coming from places like Columbia, Missouri, or those of you too young to remember Linda Richman.

Isaac reflects on his first impressions of Oberlin after flying back home for fall break--only to find that his real home is at Oberlin. Awww.

I love warm weather. Everything feels better when you can walk out the front door and realize you're wearing too many layers.

In this episode, our heroes answer questions about creativity in teaching and working with students.

So, who noticed that no less than three Oberlin professors cited 'girls' as their reason for coming to Oberlin?

What's better than a Brendan Fraser/Christopher Walken film named Blast From the Past? A blog post that features 8 blasts from the past! This one will be better. Guaranteed.

"Ha! Zeez are not musician's 'ands! Zees are scientist 'ands, for working in ze laboratory! Out! Out!"

I got my grades for my first ever semester in college back a few weeks ago, and I'm...pretty pleased, actually....

The second of two pieces I wrote during first semester about performances in Oberlin.

The movie centered on Darius, a 15-year-old with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. Darius' brother Mario died of the same disease when he was 19, and Darius talks about his brother occasionally during the film.

So visualize this: I'm in my basement this morning, working on my bamboo bicycle, joining the steel remnants of a child-sized bike frame to my bamboo tubes.

Aahhhhhh! (that's 'Ahhhhhh' like the sound you make after taking a satisfying drink of Coke Zero™, not like 'Ahhhhhh please don't lock me in that iron mask for years because I look like my brother the king')

That said, it's cold as crap here right now.

I neglected to utilize the lock on the bathroom once, and it became uncomfortably non-private in the middle of my activities within.

My running log for Tuesday, Nov. 11 says "cold run, 3.5 miles in 25:36. Ran through the Arb, ran to North Fields, back along Woodland." This is not the whole story.

They have a velvet Last Supper hanging above the stairs leading to the exit. I'm serious.

We went back and forth for quite some time, coming up with quality lines for the ladies, and some lame ones as well.