For one final time this year Chloe hits the Commons with her camera, microphone, sunglasses, and fun questions to find the answers that most first-year students are too afraid to seek. Watch to see if you or your friends made the cut.
Humor
I Listened to Ska for 3 Days
Sigh. It was a long week, and Ska didn’t help. Why I chose to do this to myself is something I don’t think I’ll ever figure out. The infamous music genre had its beginnings in late-1950s Jamaica, first existing as a combination of Caribbean and Jamaican rhythms. One of its defining musical characteristics is the use of a walking bass line with accented offbeat rhythms. It was pretty popular in the 1960s during its development, and then again in the 1990s. There’s a reason it stayed there. The pairing of trumpet with ever-so-slightly off key vocals somehow doesn’t sit right with me. The best description I can give of Ska is that it felt like sitting on an aggressively crusty, rock-hard bean bag chair. It was like I was trying to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I didn’t have knives to get the ingredients out of their respective jars so I had to use my hands to scoop out the peanut butter and jelly and slap them on the bread over and over. Something was just a little off.
I started my horrific journey on Thursday, January 18th. In the beginning, I didn’t know what to expect. I never thought the day would come where I would put the phrase “Ska mix” into my Spotify search bar. To my immense disappointment, a bunch of results came up.
I was just so curious to find out what “Essential Ska” could possibly be, so of course that was the playlist I opened first. I settled on a song called “Time Bomb” by the band Rancid, and boy oh boy. How do I put into words the emotions that I felt after 5 seconds of this song? It was really…interesting? To use a technical term: crusty bean bag-esque. The second the vocals came in I was confused. I didn’t know what on earth these people were saying, and I also had no clue where their pitch was. I was bewildered. Concerned, even. The first word I could make out was “cadillac”, which had no positive effect on my comprehension of what I was listening to. It was at this moment that I came to truly appreciate just how accessible Spotify makes the pause button. It came in very handy. After a second of recovery I thought that maybe I just didn’t get it. Maybe I had to keep listening to fully appreciate it. With a hesitant index finger I pressed play again. Spoiler alert: I did not have to keep listening. That was enough Ska for Day One. Crash course completed.
The next two days consisted of Goldfinger, The Specials, and Mad Caddies. Songs that I endured included “Sell Out” by Reel Big Fish, “Sunday Morning” by No Doubt, and “One Step Beyond” by Madness. I did eventually get acclimated to the somewhat unique aspects of the genre, but I ultimately felt it wasn’t quite what I’d prefer to have populating the “On Repeat” playlist on Spotify. Again – a horn with few other instruments, plus an off-key singer on top of that, doesn’t make for the best combo. Overall I wouldn’t say that I had the best experience with Ska. However, that’s not to say it didn’t have some enjoyable qualities. Just kidding. Do yourself a favor and keep it in the 90s.
A closing note: When I googled “Ska music” for this article a week ago, one of the results was a WatchMojo “Top 10 Ska Bands” video. Talk about an oxymoron.
As a disclaimer, my opinions are never to be taken seriously, as most of the time I have no clue what I’m talking about. Please take anything I say with half a grain of salt.
Sources:
MCL Top 5: Cornfields (as ranked by Cornfield Chloe herself)
If you’re a bit bored of fun activities in New York City or beautiful Pacific beaches on the west coast, let me remind you of the true gem of the United States: the Midwest. The rural Midwest, to be more specific. To show you how amazing these “flyover states” can be, I, Cornfield Chloe, decided to take pictures of the cornfields around my house and rank them. With the number of cornfields I have in close proximity to me, I could have done a top 100 list, but for your sake and mine, I’ll stick to the 5 I got on camera.
Without further ado…
#5
Your standard run-of-the-mill post-harvest season cornfield. I see this one every day, and it’s consistent in its presentation. I run on the road at its border quite often, and I’ve never gotten hit by a tractor, so I’d say that’s a win.
#4
Now you might be thinking, “Cornfield Chloe, is this the same field just from a different viewpoint?” I am here to inform you, dear reader, that this is obviously not the same one, but then again, I wouldn’t expect non-experienced cornfield perceivers such as yourselves to pick up on the nuances. I do, however, want you to appreciate the way that the trees in the back nicely frame this field and make it clear whose field is whose for the farmers.
#3
Esteemed readers, we have a true delight here: TWO neighboring cornfields! AND a road of houses in the background! How exciting! You can see that one is prepped for winter wheat and one is not (but I’m not going to tell you which is which because I’m difficult like that). Just a reminder about neighboring cornfields; be careful at t-shaped intersections when the corn is high! Always take a peek out before going to make sure you’re not about to get t-boned. Corn kills, my friends. Corn kills.
#2
For our runner-up spot, I have to applaud this field which has not been fully harvested yet. Here we see a trodden path into the depths of the field, which can be for numerous reasons. A family of deer that narrowly escaped being struck by a truck? Some teenagers looking for a private location for an intimate moment (yes, it happens)? Lost children being drawn into the corn, never to be seen again except in the dark of night when the moon is high? There’s no way of knowing, but all are possible in the rural Midwest.
#1
I MUST give my top spot to this beauty. Just look at those clouds! The sun shining through in glorious rays! The water tower and the farms in the background! If you look closely enough, you might even get a glimpse of the train tracks! And of course, the wondrous cornfield itself. Look at those rolling rows! The patchwork marking properties from each other! I can’t help but be awestruck by these acres, compelled by this corn. Wowzers.
I hope that everyone gets the opportunity to stare out their car window and witness the wonders of the rural Midwest. If you do, you should stop and say hi to me. I’ll be out there. I came from the corn, and to the corn I will return. Unless my life plans take me literally anywhere else. There’s no way of knowing, but I do know one thing: I’m proud to be Cornfield Chloe.
MCL Top 3: ABBA Songs for Your Potted Plant
In today’s publication of my ramblings, we’re going to take a look at the Top 3 ABBA songs for your potted plant. Your succulents, philodendron, mini aloe veras, and whatever else you may have can get pretty lonely while you’re in class, and especially now with winter approaching and sunlight fleeing quicker each day. Every now and then your faithful green friends might need some sonic excitement to freshen up their leaves, and I have some lovely Scandinavian suggestions to do just that. Let’s dive in.
The music of the 1970s has always resonated with me. Artists and bands like Jim Croce and the Doobie Brothers keep bringing me back for more, but there has been one Swedish band in particular that to me shines brighter than the sequins on their bedazzled vests. The supergroup comprised of Benny Andersson, Björn Ulvaeus, Agnetha Fältskog, and Anni-Frid “Frida” Lyngstad make up the legendary band ABBA. The not only musical but cultural impact that they had on the 1970s world seems as if it was larger than life. Their songs have remained timeless over the past 40 years, and their appeal has stretched across decades. Their music can be the soundtrack to a range of things, from sappy love montages to celebratory dancing. But I think that a very underrated use for their music is to be a companion to your potted plants’ well-being.
3. Kicking things off at third on our list is “Chiquitita”. I feel that the beginning of the lyrics to this song perfectly encapsulate the coming dreary winter-ness.
The change in tone that happens famously at the ending of this song always boosts my mood, and I’m sure it will do the same for your soft-stemmed sidekick. The contrast between the depressing first half and hopeful essence of the second will definitely bring your potted plant some much-needed good vibes.
2. Dancing Queen. How could I make a list of anything ABBA-related and not include their biggest hit? This absolute banger of all time is personally one of my favorite songs and something that I listen to almost every day. Whenever I hear it I find that it’s bright, catchy, and exuberant. It definitely fits the feel of a Friday night described in the lyrics, “having the time of your life”. It isn’t in-your-face or very driving, but rather it’s relaxed and laid back. Being a piano major, I also enjoy the prominence of the piano in this song. This song was ABBA’s sole number one hit in America and sold over 3 million copies globally. The message of “Dancing Queen” is one that remains relevant with a 21st century audience, and will certainly resonate with your potted plant.
1. Take a Chance On Me. This song belongs at the top of this list because of its pick-me-up attitude and ability to inspire warmth. In the season to come, I think that songs like these will have a big role in finishing out the semester. In addition, the hopefulness that it carries will contribute to this as well. I feel that its mood is cheerful yet composed, which will surely give your small-scale shrubbery the lift to its leaves that it needs.
2023: A Dining Hall Odyssey
Written with Micah Mayborn, fellow MCL content creator.
5 hours and 16 minutes. 18,960 seconds. This was how long it took for Micah and I to step triumphantly past the boundary of mere MCL content creators and into the realm of the impossible. 5 hours. 16 minutes. That was the length of time it took for Micah and I to reach the summit of Vanderbilt student accomplishment. This article tells a tale that will be repeated for generations. This article tells of the journey of a lifetime. This article tells the story of the day that Micah Mayborn and Spencer McKee ate at all of Vanderbilt University’s dining halls in one day.
Our tale begins on one fateful Tuesday evening during which my eternal quest to accomplish the most useless achievements known to humankind shone through spectacularly. While eating dinner at Commons I was simultaneously attempting to drum up ideas for articles. I sat and thought and thought and sat. I remained deep in thought while sipping a glass of water, and with furrowed brow I gripped my fork tightly while I nibbled a cookie. No thoughts came; my head was empty. I sat puzzled. But then, then! A spark. A grand vision; like an ancient oracle speaking directly to my mind through the beige, crumb-speckled plate before me. That ethereal voice from beyond cried out and then vanished, leaving only three words: “The dining halls!”I was at first bewildered by such an enigmatic statement, my mind raced to comprehend it. What could this possibly mean? I pondered. I pleaded to the voice to provide the clarification I needed. It finally returned, leaving one last message that sounded a lot like the rushed disclaimers at the end of cell phone commercials: “Oh yeah, except for McGugin.” And then it struck me. The road to true glory lay before me and I could see its gilded path. The prophecy would be fulfilled. The hour had struck! The time had come for the summit to be breached. It was time for each of Vanderbilt’s Dining Halls to be eaten at in one day. I immediately knew that such a task was beyond the reach of just one student alone, so I turned to my friend and fellow MCLer Micah for aid. Together, I knew that we would be able to overcome the daunting challenge that lay before us. We planned our quest for Thursday, October 19th, the very first day of fall break. We met the night before to discuss our strategy for the coming morrow, hunched over our penne pasta in the corner of Rothschild as if we were planning a bank heist. We plotted quietly in preparation, trying to discern what the best strategy would be. Where would we go first? Would we be logical and space out each location throughout the day? Or would we attempt an ambitious speedrun? We eventually settled on an attempt to see how fast we could complete the challenge. Our day would begin at Commons for breakfast, E. Bronson Ingram for brunch immediately after, then following with Rand lunch, Kissam tea-time, Rothschild pre-dinner, and at last finishing with Zeppos for dinner. As we charted our course in hushed voices we felt the prickling of greatness lying in wait just around the corner. The excitement was building. A storm was gathering before us, and we were going to weather it at all costs. We wondered if this was madness or brilliance, that there surely couldn’t have been many people with the amount of stupidity or bravery to attempt such a thing. Surely even Cornelius himself would have thought this to be beyond the capability of mere mortals like us. After about an hour of intense discussion we finalized our plan and looked up, realizing that we were one of the last people still remaining in Rothschild for the night. We hurriedly gathered our backpacks and jackets, departing into the slight chill of the Wednesday evening. We left each other with a quote from Homer’s Odyssey: “Delivering early to the voice of fame The promise of a green immortal name.” It was with this burning spirit that we parted ways for the evening, filled with excitement for the day to come.
I awoke the following day at 9:00 A.M. to my blaring alarm clock heralding the start of the day. For a minute I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, hardly registering the piercing squawk of my phone that screeched at me to snooze it. As I prepared for the day I cast all doubt aside; I was ready to face the task that would make even Guy Fieri tremble. I threw on my clothes, washed my face, and took one last deep breath before leaping off the precipice into the deep unknown. I was to meet Micah first at Commons for breakfast to begin the challenge. We gathered outside the front doors and prepared ourselves one final time before the great journey to glory. We looked at each other, nodded once, and threw open the doors. We walked hastily to the scanners that flank the entrance to the dining hall and scanned in. The game was afoot; the hunt was on! The race against time and the battle against the odds had begun at 9:30 A.M.
Because it was the first day of fall break it was largely deserted, reminiscent of a ghost town filled with the smell of bacon. My first meal of the day contained a waffle, potatoes, eggs, cheddar-jalapeño sausage, and water.
Micah’s was no different, save for a glass of orange juice and no grapes.
To be completely honest it felt just like any other breakfast. The waffle and eggs were fluffy, the potatoes crisp. The sausage was suspect at best, and the grapes were indeed grapes. The only distinction given to this particular breakfast was that in addition to the questionable tang of the sausage, I also held in my mouth the weight of history; the hopes and dreams of all who had come before in search of this, the holy grail. We finished eating at 10:00 A.M. and set off for EBI.
We arrived to the brick-laden fortress at 10:20 A.M. and felt the need to document our presence with this picture:
We stepped inside, took a breath of that ever-so-fresh EBI air, and scanned into our next dining hall at 10:22 A.M. I noticed that the room looked a lot bigger without people in it. The Harry Potter vibes were strong that morning in the vacant hall. Hogwarts wishes it had our view of Alumni Lawn.
Micah and I took a seat and then hopped in line for brunch, with similar breakfast smells as Commons wafting from the kitchen. This plate of food consisted of tater tots, cantaloupe, and a biscuit with gravy. Micah’s mirrored mine as well. The biscuit was flaky and perfectly complemented with the thick fluidity of the gravy. The crispy tater tots obviously slapped, and the cantaloupe was fresh and juicy as ever.
After we finished our second meal of the day we left our plates on the conveyor belt and took off to explore other areas of the residential college.
On our side quest we came across EBI’s library, as well as a painting of this gentleman who we absolutely don’t remember the name of. We love a good 0.5. 
After we completed our exploration of this mahogany and leather-lover’s dream we again set off, this time headed to Rand. We scanned at our third destination at 11:15 A.M. We were in the thick of it now. We walked into the iconic dining hall, took three steps, and stopped dead in our tracks. There was something wrong, very wrong here. There were no lines.
No queue for the Mongolian bowls, no shuffling procession for the Rand cookies, and certainly no 20-minute wait for the Randwich. It was a thing of beauty – nay, an unprecedented glimpse into utopia. Micah and I felt like kids in a candy store, except the gumballs were our hopes and dreams and the chocolate was just chocolate. We decided on the Mongolian bowl, in which we got white rice, chicken, tofu, broccoli, and two spring rolls.
Don’t ask why Micah’s smiling like he’s about to murder me. Maybe it was because I dragged him into a ludicrous mission from hell. Beats me.
I hate to say it, but these bowls were a miss. We both agreed that the chicken didn’t taste very fresh and that the broccoli was just a tad slimy. The silver lining of this meal was that the Rand cookie was delicious as always. After we finished lunch we tried to visit our boss, deep in the bowels of Sarratt, but unfortunately he wasn’t in. Note the clear disappointment on our faces.
We left, deeply saddened, and trudged back upstairs to meet the glow of sunlight and the next dining hall that awaited us: Kissam. We were halfway to the finish line, and there was no stopping us now. The clock was ticking. Three down, three to go. It was time to journey to the edge of campus.
At 12:20 P.M. we arrived at Kissam.
And it was bad. Very bad. I had previously never been to this side of the universe and hopefully I won’t have to return anytime soon. While the exterior of Moore and Warren was quite scenic, the meal that Micah and I had was quite the opposite.
I got a bowl with salmon, brown rice, edamame, and mandarin orange slices, and Micah got a salad with lots of greens.
The second I bit into that salmon I knew I had made a mistake. Maybe it was my own fault for not judging a book by its cover and failing to recognize that the salmon looked really really not like salmon. After regretfully swallowing one piece I turned to the mandarin oranges. Surely they would salvage this experience. But this sadly wasn’t the case. They were somehow spicy??? I couldn’t comprehend the cacophony of flavors and textures that were reverberating in my mouth. I somehow managed to put down another few spoonfuls before vowing never to return to this dining hall. It should be noted that Micah said his salad tasted incredibly like a salad.
Thumbs down. On to the next.
It was now time for the last leg of the journey. There were now two more dining halls standing between us and everlasting glory. Breakfast already felt like hours, even days ago. We met fellow MCL content creator Sariha for lunch at Rothschild, pictured below. As we walked to our penultimate destination we could feel the anticipation mounting. It felt so close, and it was getting closer with every step. We scanned in at 1:30 P.M. and were soon met by a smiling Sariha, waving us over to her table in the corner.
For lunch they were serving popcorn shrimp sandwiches and fries, which the three of us all happily devoured.
I’m very happy to say that I felt redeemed from Kissam–the fries weren’t overly salty, and the sandwich had just enough of each inner element to satisfy. The side salad was also salad.
Micah and I finished our 5th meal of the day and bid goodbye to Sariha. We then turned to face the Tower and the final dining hall that lay before us: Zeppos. Victory was so close that we could almost taste it (as well as all of the food that we had eaten already). We took another side quest before attempting to summit the last peak on the mountain of our mission, this time visiting the Wellness Room in the lobby of Rothschild. It was here that we found some incredibly comfy chairs as showcased by Micah here:
Turns out eating a minimum of 5 meals in one day takes a toll on a man.
After a brief recharging session we walked back outside and strode one step further to immortality. As we headed towards Zeppos we felt like we were walking in slow motion. Or maybe it was just the food coma setting in. Either way, we were tired, sleepy, and ready for one last dance with the Campus Dining staff.
We stepped inside with excitement and determination. This was it. The chips were down. I could hear the theme song from Rocky playing in my head. We scanned in at 2:20 P.M. and approached the counter. I stepped to the glass barrier and ordered a flatbread with marinara, mozzarella, black olives, and chicken. I also got a Rice Krispie Treat and cranberry juice.
Micah decided that since this was the last stop on the Insanity Express it was time for dessert, so he picked up a Rice Krispie Treat and a chocolate muffin.
The flatbread was toasted to perfection, with the tangy olives providing a wonderful balance to the slight zest of the chicken. The Rice Krispie Treats were sweet and gooey as ever, and Micah said that the chocolate muffin crumbled and caved in his mouth.
And at last I get to write the line: We finished eating. At long last we had reached the crest. I turned to Micah and told him to stop his timer that had been running the entire time.
For 5 hours and 16 minutes we had seen nothing but a whirl of scanners, plates, utensils, and napkins. We had experienced and done the impossible. We had eaten up 12 meal swipes between us and it wasn’t even 3:00 P.M. yet. During our reflection on this experience Micah provided a quote that I felt perfectly encapsulated our voyage: “Putting so much into me took so much out of me.”
We had traveled the universe of dining halls, collecting the infinity stones that led us to eternal honor.
We arose from our seats and went back outside. We blinked, stepping into the sun with a new outlook on life. We had been changed by this Dining Hall Odyssey. We had climbed the mountain, we had fought the battle, we had persevered and had reached the summit of student glory. The two takeaways that I gleaned from this vast expedition were as follows: don’t eat at Kissam, and certainly do more dumb things with your friends.
Defining Your Commons House by Meme
Last week I had a bunch of stuff to get done, so naturally I procrastinated. It turned out to be high-quality procrastination though because I made these low-quality, incredibly boomer memes to describe the houses in which you all reside. What they lack in funny they make up for in 2012 font. Enjoy.
Written in collaboration with Micah Mayborn.
First up we have Gillette and the infamous G’Flood. I’m not entirely sure if this one’s true, but I definitely bring it up to all my friends from G’House.
Next is Stambaugh with their beautiful, absolutely breathtaking staircase…that goes…?
I live in East, so this is personal. The struggle is real.
Their motto verbatim: North or nothing? Tough call.
Photo credit: Libby Meade (certified Guacamole chef) of Murray.
Again, I live in East. Only time will tell who is superior.
I don’t make the rules, I only make the memes.
I thought this one would be topical and timely, but I may just let this one cool off for a while.
I know nothing about Memorial. They have s’mores I guess?
What’s In My Backpack: An Unsettling Adventure
Every day there is a powerful tool used by students and faculty alike. Dick Kelty’s 1952 invention is worn by virtually every person you can come across during any given weekday. The immortal contraption whose name is known far and wide to the far-flung reaches of the globe as “the backpack” has proved to be a crucial component to one’s educational experience for much of the past seven decades.
As part of my never-ending quest to share the most unnecessary details of my life, this article will be all about what’s in my backpack. My reason for writing about this completely superfluous topic is because I thought it would be so lovely to share what has so far made my college experience what it’s been at its core. I figured that sharing the material objects that I keep closest to me would be incredibly fulfilling. Just kidding. I needed a reason to clean it out, a deadline to clean it out by, and these articles are due every Tuesday at noon. I thought I might as well make a written, public inventory for the world to (hopefully not) see. Let’s get into it, shall we?
I don’t know about yours, but my backpack is a magical place. I’m not even sure what’s really in it at this point. I just put stuff in there and if it’s lucky, it comes out a week later. It’s basically a black hole with a zipper; a 20-pound scientific anomaly if you will. It was because of this that I approached my horrifically mundane challenge with apprehension. I didn’t know what new, strange realm I had unknowingly allowed my backpack to become. Before diving deep into its depths, I thought of the peculiarities that might await me inside. A week-old apple perhaps? A portal to Narnia? A dominant seventh chord(with corresponding hand gestures)? There was only one way to find out.
Upon sitting down and opening wide its maw I stared into the dark abyss that awaited me, pausing briefly before diving in. I reached inside, and the first object to reluctantly surface was…a textbook. Rhythmic Training by Robert Starer, to be exact. I expected worse. I set it to the side. Next to come out of the black hole was my Mickey Mouse hand sanitizer. We stared at each other for a second before mutually agreeing that we probably wouldn’t see each other for another month. I set him to the side as well. Third out was my Accelerated Keyboard Harmony textbook, Group Piano: Proficiency in Theory and Performance (shoutout Ned, Elizabeth, Trevor, and Natasha). This was probably the heaviest thing in my bag, and definitely the most F-u-N. Next out was a nail clipper, then a pencil, a sharpener for that pencil, a sharpie, my phone charger, The One Ring to Rule Them All, my AirPods, and my laptop. The last items to emerge were, strangely enough, the things that I probably use the most. As a Blair kid about half of the stuff that I keep in my backpack is music, and currently maintaining residence are the likes of Chopin, Debussy, and Prokofiev. Most of the time they’re fun to walk to class with, trust me.
After finally pulling everything out I turned and stared at my small mountain of music, technology, and other paraphernalia. I was mainly really confused as to how all of it even fit. Magic? Answer unclear, ask again later. The main takeaway from this adventure was that I should probably clean out my backpack more often. Oh, and I unfortunately didn’t end up finding that portal to Narnia. Only The Lion, The Witch and The Textbook.
MCL Quiz: Rizz or A.I.?
We live in a modern world. Shocking, I know. In today’s everyday life, we can literally push a button on a phone and put a digitally produced dog head on someone else’s (almost) actual head. To quote Louis Armstrong: “What a wonderful world”. One of the biggest revelations in our society recently has been the meteoric emergence of artificial intelligence, which can be used for chatbots, facial recognition, physical and digital security, and most importantly: solve homework. Of these handy features that AI boasts, one of its more unique uses has been its ability to generate pickup lines. This of course got the gears in my mind turning, and a burning question came to me. Does AI have discernable rizz from a human? There was only one way to find the answer, and I knew just the place to do it: The Blair School of Music, filled to the brim not only with pianos and practice rooms, but with game as well.
My process was a fairly simple one. No three-hour lab here. All I needed were some pickup lines from Blair students, some pickup lines from ChatGPT, and people to answer the questions. This is the part where you all come in. Take this quiz to see how well you can spot the differences between human and AI pickup lines.
[wpViralQuiz id=9029]
MCL Top 5: Theories of What’s in Zeppos Tower
One of Vanderbilt’s main campus landmarks is the recently constructed Zeppos Tower.
Photo credit: Micah Mayborn
Located on the corner of West End Avenue and 25th Avenue South, this 20-story brick monolith has stirred my imagination. What could possibly be inside this Tower of Sauron (Barad-dûr ) looking wannabe? A quick google search will yield the answer that it houses some fancy suites and nice meeting rooms, but who among us has actually been inside, and especially to the top?
I was able to talk to some of MCL’s readers and collect some thoughts. I heard quite the range of amazing theories, such as: the ever-elusive McRib, the poster from Now Is Not the Time to Panic, the Holy Grail – the list goes on. But there were some theories that stood out. Some simply made more sense and tower-ed above others. Here are the Top 5 theories of what’s in Zeppos Tower.
5. The Recipe for Rand Cookies
Starting off our list is the legendary Rand cookie. This is one of if not the most delicious post-meal entities that can possibly be consumed (given that it’s fresh out of the oven, cough cough). Reminiscent of the Krabby Patty Formula, I feel like a giant brick tower would be a great place to hide this precious secret from the world. I’d personally love to know how to make them solely so I can flex a newly acquired skill on friends and family back home.
4. An 8 Bedroom Suite
Realistically speaking, if you wanted to impress a notable visiting guest you’d probably put them up in Hank. But a luxurious castle of a room would probably suffice too. Enough said.
3. Cornelius Vanderbilt’s Cryogenically Frozen Head
WHERE ELSE WOULD YOU PUT IT? Think about it, people. This old rich guy probably went (some of) the way of Captain America and Han Solo and wanted to chill out for a little. Give it another 150 years and the founder will be calling the shots once again from his brick-laden fortress. Walt Disney wishes he had this guy’s immortality resources.
2. The Ark of the Covenant
This legendary artifact probably belongs in a museum. However, the second best option would definitely be (at the very least) at the tippy-top of a tower in the middle of Nashville. How it would have made its way to the Music City would certainly be an epic tale worthy of a movie.
1. A Portal to the Honor Council of Earth-2095
Rounding out the Top 5 is this theory that oddly makes just enough sense to possibly be true. Where else would something like this be kept? Only at the very top of the winding staircase that I imagine exists somewhere in the depths of the building that looms over the bookstore and that one Chili’s. I’ve heard that this particular multiversal honor council also holds the recipe for Rand cookies.
In case you couldn’t tell, this article was a top 5 plea to let me explore inside Zeppos Tower. If anybody knows how to make that happen, please let me know – I’ll be sure to document my findings.
The Everything Randwich – Hit or Myth?
Before even arriving on campus, I’m sure many of us heard rumors and rumblings of the iconic Randwich. Was it overhyped? Would it blow your mind? (Perhaps most importantly) Did it fully satisfy your lunch needs? The swirling legend that surrounded the customizable midday creation was one of tumultuous debate. I knew that as soon as I got to Nashville, priority number one had to be none other than the Randwich. After arriving, I soon sided with the correct side of history; i.e. that it did indeed live up to the hype. Over the course of the next few lunches, I tried more combinations, more flavors, but just like Ariel from The Little Mermaid, the Roman Empire, and Kylo Ren, I wanted more. And then the idea struck me. The Everything Randwich. I didn’t know if it had been done before – if that threshold had been crossed – but I knew that I must take up the quest. I spent several days twisting and turning this idea over and over in my head. What if it simply couldn’t be done? I wondered. What if this mission ruins the Randwich for me forever? I simply didn’t know if the sandwich gods would allow such a thing to come into existence. At first I was apprehensive, but as the days passed I steeled both my mind and courage. I awoke on Friday, September the 1st with determination in my heart and a need for wheat in my stomach. I had some nerves bubbling within me as I walked to Rand that day, not knowing what lunchtime would hold. Before I knew it I was once again standing in front of the famed dining hall, ready to fling open the door to glory.
I approached the counter with slight trepidation, the moment approaching faster and faster with each stride. I noticed the line was shorter than usual, with there being no more than three people in front of me. When I arrived at the front of the line, my order started off as any other would: “What kind of bread would you like?”
At any other time I would have immediately responded, but this was no ordinary order. I paused for a second. “Wheat, please.”
Now for the second element. “Which meat?”
Again I paused. “Can I get one of everything?”
The Dining Services person on the other side of the glass offered no objection. I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief as turkey, ham, roast beef, and salami became the first layer to the sandwich. I then asked for one of each cheese, to which a slight look of perplexion was given. I smiled nervously, unsure if this would obstruct my mission; but soon provolone, swiss, American and cheddar had been piled on. As I watched the first half of my requested creation slide into the toaster, I soon began wondering if I had made a grave mistake. But it was then at this moment that a quote from Pirates of the Caribbean popped into my head: “Full-bore and into the abyss.” I knew it was too late to back out now.
When my Randwich emerged from its heating chamber, it was beautiful. Four different cheeses all melting and oozing simultaneously down over a glorious mismatch of meats. Now for the toppings. This is where the fun begins. I was asked, “What toppings can I get for you on here?”
Again I asked for everything, and I watched as lettuce, tomato, onion, spinach, yellow peppers, jalapeno peppers, carrots, black olives and mayo were all placed on top of the already divine creation. It should be noted that both hummus and chicken salad were excluded as I feared for the structural integrity of the previous cargo that was my Randwich. It felt as if the Infinity Gauntlet was being assembled before my very eyes. An object made of not only unimaginable power, but of a variety of flavors as well.
The sandwich had been completed. The die had been cast. It was now time to grab a Rand cookie and find an empty table. I made sure to find a corner table so as to best avoid detection and distraction. The first bite of the Everything Randwich was upon me. The moment was here at last. I brought it to my mouth and simply experienced. So many flavors rushed at me all at once that it was hard to make sense of it all. Everything that had come before had simply been a juxtaposition to this very lunch. All of the meats, all of the cheeses, everything full-on flooded my taste buds. It. Was. Delicious. I took my second bite. Then a third. Before I realized, I had eaten the first half and started on the second. I continued to live within my own Randwich-centric world for the next five minutes as I finished. Note: I will say that despite its numerous glorious qualities, black olives absolutely do not mix with pickles and salami. I was unlucky enough to get a few bites that had this mixture, and let me tell you, if you can tolerate or even somehow enjoy such a combination of flavors and textures simultaneously, I salute you.
As I completed my lunch and got ready to pack my things, I considered how this very article would end. I considered the (now seemingly silly) nerves I had had about ordering such a thing. At the end of the day, it was literally just a sandwich. But it had been something that I didn’t know the ending to. If there’s something out there that you feel the same way about, just go for it. It could be something small and dumb like just a sandwich at a college dining hall, or it could be skydiving strapped to a shark with no parachute. It might just end up being the best lunch ever.