In The Cavalier Daily's last paper of the fall semester, I wrote about the sharp and radical changes I had seen in my life because of my experiences, my new friends and all the rest of the vibrant consuming life of the University. But gradually I have come to notice that there are some things that really never change.
Take for example, the new "No More Late Fees" policy at everyone's neighborhood Blockbuster. The policy seemingly created a new, friendlier video store -- more dedicated to the happiness of its customers and less to its own bloodthirsty parasitism on our national love for the movies. I went to Blockbuster over break, however, and discovered that this is not entirely the case.
My friend Eric and I thought we had a typical Blockbuster experience one night over break, renting videos under his grandmother's name. We returned a few days later and tried to check out more, only to be told that my friend's grandmother's account simply did not exist. We pointed out that we had used that account only two days before, but soon discovered that the store had checked out the first batch of movies on the account of a poor Mr. Connelly -- not my friend's grandmother, Mrs. Connell -- who will probably be getting some terrible bills pretty soon.
So we tried to use Eric's account, which they claimed was frozen under a mysterious hold from corporate headquarters, and then my account, which they claimed had been shut down due to inactivity, even though my parents had rented movies a week before. So Eric decided to register for his own card to resolve the debacle, only to discover that the only applications in the store were in Spanish, requiring him to register for a card through an interpreter.
So that was great. Doesn't seem like Blockbuster has fixed many of its customer service issues, after all.
Slowly I began to realize that my first observation about change was part of a much wider theme. Northeastern Ohio seemed everywhere unmarked by the passage of time. There are still alpaca farms scattered all over the countryside. We continue to hemorrhage jobs and qualified professionals. The state continues to flirt with bankruptcy. And as the snow fell (seemingly continuously for the last several days of break), the distinguishing characteristics of the world blended together under the concealing whiteness, one great plane of perpetuity.
Coming back to school I was shocked with sameness. I expected to feel odd in my dorm room, the temporary home I had deserted for a month, and yet as I looked up at my posters (expensively laminated in keeping with the fire code), I was struck not by seeing them again but by an odd feeling that I had always seen them. Even though I only had dial-up Internet at home and consequently lost all human contact (since, after all, AIM is really the only glue to our unique college society), I resumed my friendships and acquaintances here as if only a day had gone by.
My suitemates still sleep, dress, argue and play video games as they did before, and I continue to lose every round of every Nintendo 64 game we play. O-Hill continues to amaze with its capacity to make simultaneously the best fries and the worst veal I have ever eaten.
It just makes me wonder about the urgency that I ascribe to so much of my life. If life goes on to reflect itself, should I really be as concerned about each seemingly new change as I always have been? Just as the world swings implacably through its seasons and Bodo's on the Corner remains "coming soon," maybe we move forward only to find ourselves looking back. It's an interesting contraction, at least. Regardless of the answer, I'm glad to be back because Virginia seems to be a pretty good place to spend my time, whether I'm walking in a straight line or a circle.
Connor Sullivan can be reached at sullivan@cavalierdaily.com
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