Homecoming and Reynolds' Echec Epique

Any die-hard Reynolds fans who came to the game tonight hoping for a win to accompany our homecoming night were sorely disappointed. Not only did we lose to the Davie War Eagles, but we did not score a single point the whole game. It was, as noted above, an echec epique, which translates literally to "epic failure." However, there were a few interesting things which occured today. I was stressed out initially, because the marching band went to a marching band festival at Glenn High School on Thursday, which left no time to do homework or study for the multiple tests that I had the following day, which included an Iliad quiz, a math test, a French test on art and Versailles, and a chemistry test. The schedule was also to be shortened today to make room for the pep rally, which always concludes our school's spirit week. I hate pep rallies at our school for two reasons, and one is that everyone is so loud that the man speaking into the microphone cannot be heard, and the other is that any music (besides marching band music) that they play is awful. This combination of things makes one feel as though one's ears are bleeding by the time that they leave the gym. In any case, today at lunch, a man with a guitar came to perform for us. He had a very nice voice which was good for singing Thom Yorke. He played "Fake Plastic Trees" from Radiohead's album "The Bends," some Tom Petty, and Red Hot Chili Peppers, whom I don't care for. Chloe and I sat on a bench and watched him, and she sang the harmony of everything he played and criticized his range. Around 5:30 that night, we arrived at the parking lot of the stadium that we share with Parkland, where numerous tables had been set up and sheltered areas where hot dogs, hamburgers, brownies, and pasta salad were being distributed. At the very edge of this area were several rows of seats which faced another solo guitarist, who sang similar repertoire (a few of his songs included another Tom Petty song, "More than a Feeling," "Sweet Home Alabama," etc.). He serenaded everyone at the tailgate party all through dinner, which was free. After one of his songs, a group of people which included Evan and Niko approached him and made a request, which was taken ("Sweet Home Alabama,"). After that, the guitarist encouraged requests, so I walked over and requested some Bob Dylan, because it seemed as though he had a good raspy-esque voice for Bob Dylan. He gladly obliged, seeming to be shocked that I would request Bob Dylan - the way he looked, he must have guessed that I would request something along the lines of Lady Gaga, or another pop artist typical of my demographic. He played a song that I wasn't wholly familiar with, but it was classic Bob nonetheless. Later on, as we lined up in our pre-National-Anthem lines outside of the gate, I saw the guitarist sitting in the open trunk of his car with what must have been his wife/girlfriend and their little girl. She watched our puny marching band with wonder, and I found something about that scene rather moving. Once inside, nothing too terribly interesting happened; Nikki was not crowned homecoming queen, which was sad. Speaking of Nikki, she did an amusing thing at the festival yesterday. Up at the press box, one could make announcements to other people in the crowd, and so she had the commentator read a proposal to Mr. James, written under the pseudonym of Nancy. It was very cute. In any case, that's about it for tonight.

Strange Dream in Ohio, September 24

One week ago now, the Friday night before my mom, Wesley, and I went to Cedar Point, I had a very strange dream that I will finally report in English, due to its detail that I would not be able to capture in the little bit of French that I do know.

The setting of the dream was a mixture of my school and Hogwarts on Christmas Eve night. To explain that statement, the exterior of the school was like Reynolds, and the picnic area and auditorium were exactly as they are in real life, but the main building had multiple stories and was decorated lavishly with marble and other things characteristic of the Hogwarts described in the Harry Potter series. There was also a hospital wing on the top floor of one of the towers, and this part of the building was of special concern in the dream, given the fact that Albus Dumbledore was in the process of giving birth in the hospital wing through the entire dream. The oddity of this did not occur to my slumbering self, or I might have woken up a lot sooner than I did. In any case, everyone was very excited about this and multitudes of visiters came to the school from all around to pay Dumbledore a visit and wish him well in his labor. Mostly, they seemed to appreciate the religious irony of a baby being born on Christmas Eve, as I heard variations of, "How fitting! A baby born on Christmas Eve!" multiple times throughout the dream as I passed by excited people dashing up to the hospital wing. In any case, while I was excited for Dumbledore, I was more excited about the Christmas Eve concert scheduled to take place in the auditorium that night. Various groups, including students, would be performing Christmas music. So, after I had dressed myself to the nines in a black dress and matching coat, I walked down the marble steps (past groups of people headed for the hospital wing), exited the main building, walked around to the audience entrance of the auditorium, climbed a lot of steps, and found a nice seat by the railing of the balcony, from which I had a clear view of everything on the stage. I gripped the smooth railing and peered over, watching each of the performers step on and off the stage between acts.
I vaguely remember enjoying each of the acts, though I remember nothing in particular until the very last act, when two pianos were pushed to opposite corners of the stage, one a beautiful, glossy Steinway and the other a beaten-up school upright. Then, to tumultuous applause, Katlyn, a girl from the color guard and the drama club, stepped onto the stage and bowed. She was wearing a strange costume which consisted of black leggings and accessories and an extravagant, blood-red dress. Her face was decorated with an obnoxious amount of blush and varying hues of red, and she wore gigantic, reflective red disks in her ears for earrings. She had dyed her hair red for the performance as well - the crowd was going absolutely wild over her costume. Then, almost unnoticed, Glenn Gould stepped onto the stage. I nearly fell over the railing in shock - however, it didn't occur to me until I awoke that he is dead; this isn't what shocked me - I was merely shocked in the same way that one would be shocked to see, say, President Obama out walking his dog. I also realized that this was strange, given that the following day (that is, the 25th) is his birthday. He appeared to be in his late 20's, and was wearing his habitual winter wear, down to his gloves. He carried his chair under his arm, which he placed behind the Steinway piano. What followed was a strange song/dance, in which either Katlyn or Gould would be dancing while the other played something on one of the pianos, and then they would switch. Katlyn wore tap dancing shoes, and was tap-dancing to Bach at one point in the performance. At the end of this ordeal, everyone madly applauded and I was jealous about the whole thing. So, as everyone was filing out of the auditorium (it was the last act of the concert), I walked back down a lot of steps, pushed past the crowd into the aisle on the first floor, and approached the stage, where Katlyn sat with her legs dangling over the edge, entertaining a group of fans.
"So, Katlyn," I said, "How did you manage to set up an act for a school concert with Glenn Gould?"
"Oh, it was Mr. Hicks' idea." she said, "Apparently there's some concert they're doing in honor of his original works tomorrow. Renee Fleming is going to sing 'So You Want to Write a Fugue.' So he thought it'd be a good idea to invite him to perform with the school."
"Ah." I said. "Well, your act was very good."
She shrugged. "I screwed up a lot. I might not have been so terrible if he had showed up on time for the rehearsal yesterday."
I left her grumbling about this and returned to the main building, where many of the performers had congregated and were just hearing the news about Dumbledore from a group of people who had returned from the hospital wing. I decided to help all of those who didn't attend Reynolds up to the hospital wing. We took a shiny, mirrored elevator, and climbed innumerable floors until we reached a very white hallway like ones typically seen in a hospital setting. In one of the walls was set a glass window, though which you could see but could not be seen. I led the group of people, including Gould, up to this window, through which Dumbledore could be seen, lying on his back on an operating table with surgeons around him. He was about to deliver his baby through a Caesarian Section. Though many of the performers were eager to catch a glimpse of Dumbledore through the window, it seemed that no one really wanted to go in and wish him well, as I received a bunch of mumbled, "Don't want to interrupt the proceedings" when I offered to lead them inside the ward. My job finished, I wandered back toward the elevator, followed idly by Glenn Gould and a few stragglers. During the long trip down to the first floor, I complimented his act from earlier that night and he accepted it awkwardly. Then, I asked him if he was going to go to his tribute concert the next night, and he seemed bewildered. "There's a concert and they're playing something I wrote?" he asked incredulously, as we emerged from the elevator. "That is to say, what made them think of choosing something of mine? Which piece?"
"Well," I said, "Considering that they're going to have a world-class soprano singing with them, it makes sense that they'll do 'So You Want to Write a Fugue,' which is also a great piece, by the way."
He waved his hand awkwardly to express his gratitude and smiled. "Wow," he said, "How strange." He talked a little more after that, but mainly seemed to be flattered at the thought of someone doing a concert in his honor.
During this entire conversation, we were passing the picnic tables in front of the school. A piano was set up on the Gfeller stage and a young girl who looked like Anita (and who was supposed to be her younger sister in the dream) was playing Mozart on it. It was beautifully-done, and she was dancing to it as if it had been choreographed by the pianist Mitsuko Uchida herself. After she was finished, I approached the stage with the intent of playing Bach's Invention 14 (for kudos points) followed up by the "Adagio" of Beethoven's "Tempest." However, once I had reached the stage, I saw that the nice piano which had been there moments before was replaced with a crappy keyboard which sounded nasally when played and which didn't have nearly enough keys on it to play Bach, let alone Beethoven. While I struggled with this keyboard, I heard my mother call from nearby, and I was aware that she was preparing dinner in our house, which had suddenly spawned from the far end of the picnic tables. Telling her that I'd be over for dinner in a second, I continued to struggle with the plastic keys, watching all of the performers from the hospital wing gather around the dining room table. I eventually gave up and went over to join them, and was immediately enveloped by the warmth of celebrating people around a Christmas dinner.