Before completely surrendering my post as Amanuensis to the lovely Ms. Hu, and in order to better procrastinate studying for finals, I decided to give you a 12 Days of Christmas Special, featuring one upperclassmen’s (favorite? memorable) memory (or memories) each day. Although one of my first aims was to start re-incorporating some of our members studying abroad, I was also just hoping to get some memories from our wiser members.
To open up my grand series is one of my best friends at Philodemic-Mr. Danny Graff. Mr. Graff abandoned us (me >:| ) this year by going to Japan (yes, for a whole year, although I suppose I can pardon him since it sounds like a TON of fun). He’s in the SFS, takes Japanese, speaks German, and loves the zoo. Danny’s also an avid photographer and one of our funnier members – he does improv!
“Upon further prompting from our lovely amanuensis that what I wrote was insufficient ( and perhaps downright sacrilegious), I have decided to augment this “blurb” with the inclusion of funny stories about my induction. There are a couple things I remember specifically about my induction, not the least of which was sitting in a comfy chair for the entirety of the debate (which I highly recommend), but I think the most narcissistic thing I could do would be to relay the zingyiest zingers I came up with on the fly. Though I knew it was traditional for the mentor to speak against their mentee on their induction, I was not prepared for my mentor to attack the VERY IDEAS he had given to me to help write my keynote. Perplexed, for rebuttal, I got up and told him, ‘Mr. Bade, I really appreciate that you wanted me to participate in the tradition of challenging my mentor so much that you made up some nonsense to say on the floor.” Of course, anyone that knows me would know that “nonsense” was not the first word that I would have chosen for that particular utterance. Finally, I smile as I remember counting the votes after the debate, when the current president, Mr. Whelan, a man standing on my side, told me, “wait, Danny, I think I changed my mind.” To this, of course, I had no recourse but to verbally threaten him to stay put. And as the vote was indeed incredibly close, everyone remembers that I won my keynote, but only Mike remembers the dastardly deeds that happened behind the scenes that ensured my victory.”
*Danny also originally contributed this story (which is one of my favorite memories of Danny because it was the night before Georgetown day and I witnessed him in a heightened state freaking out about this):
“The lovely amanuensis who requested I contribute something to this blog seemed to remember a particular time with much mirth, a time that involved a certain favorite shirt, and certain red, stainy liquid. As might have been guessed, at some point unbeknownst to me, the stainy liquid and the favorite shirt (which was mine, by the way) made some sort of contact, and thus, the stainyness of the stainy liquid stained the shirt. This was at a particular spontaneous gathering with philodemicians, and what our lovely amanuensis particularly remembers about it is the string of expletives that accompanied my realization. What I particularly remember about this episode, however, is calling my mother, the household goddess, at 2 am, in order to get her advice about how to remove this stainiest of stains. It wouldn’t be as funny to reveal that my mother lived in a different time zone, and was therefore awake at the time, but you can bet had she not been, I would have called anyway: such was the importance to me. And so, she relayed to me, with a mixture of patience and exasperation, that the only thing for me to do was to wash it right away. And so I did: with hand soap in the dorm sink. I washed that sucker about 50 times. And you know what? The stainy stain came out, forever vindicating me. And just remember, kids: always listen to your mother.”