GUEST POST My brother Steve: Saving the world one dance move at a time.

(I hope you all enjoy this post, written by my brother, as much as I did!)



After first receiving Maria’s text to write a “guest post” for her blog, a flurry of ideas came to my head. The recent selection of Sarah Palin as the Republican nominee for Vice President, the steady plunge of the US economy, the list goes on…

For those of you who are still awake you will be happy to know I chose something else, that might be perhaps equally as boring, the life of a junior (yikes!) at WPI. As we all get older (relatively) it is hard for some of us to fathom that we are about to enter the real world. We all revert back to fond memories of our childhood, whether it be summers in the sun or not having a care in the world. Those were the days…

We have now transitioned to a life where we sometimes ask ourselves, could I have any less free time? To most of us the answer is a resounding no. Days are filled with classes, meetings, work, more classes, and then more meetings. Before we know it it’s 2:00 am and time to go to sleep, just to start the process all over again.

The thing that keeps me going is knowing that the weekend is ahead. Counting down the days until I will get to let loose and have some fun, despite the fact that most of the time I really should be doing more work.

I have a feeling though that “going out” in Worcester has a whole different meaning. After reading and hearing about some of my sister’s crazy outings I must admit that I’m a bit jealous. Let me describe to you a typical WPI weekend. (As a side note I love my friends and we do have a good time… Sometimes we have to fight for it though)

Last weekend a friend of mine, Craig, decided to have some people over to pre-game before heading to a frat party. As my roommate Tim and I got ready we noticed the torrential downpour outside. I looked to him and said, “Nothing is stopping us from having a good time tonight.” He agreed. We finished getting ready, threw on our hoodies, and made the trek to Craig’s house.

By the time we got there we were completely soaked but ready to go. We had a few (read: a lot) of drinks. We figured it was the best way to ensure a good night (false logic that most people know makes things end poorly). After a few rounds of ruit and some very intense games of flip cup we decided to head to the party.

As was expected it was completely dead. Not only that but they wouldn’t let Craig in because he didn’t have an ID so he had to run all the way home to get it. As I stood there waiting for Craig to get back I decided to talk to one of the brothers. “How many people have you guys let in so far?” “Eight.” Awesome… It’s 11:00 on a Friday night and they’ve let in 8 people. Having my previous conversation with Tim in the back of my head we made our way downstairs to the party room.

It was no surprise to find that there was no one dancing. I looked around and saw some small groups mingling. Common trait: all guys. This was no shock to any of us. Answer? Double fisting. I went over to the bar, gave them my two tickets, and got two Miller High Life’s.

As I walked back to where my group of friends was standing I noticed more people were arriving, good news. The mood of the group was somber and I felt the need to inject some vitality back into the lives of my seemingly dead friends.

“Let’s dance!” I said enthusiastically. By this time the games of flip cup and my double fisting were starting to catch up with me and by this time of night I’m usually in the mood to dance. As a side note I say dance very very loosely. My sister and her roommates can attest to this. (Hi Usher!) Alright maybe my dancing in public isn’t THAT embarrassing but it’s still a white guy who goes to a tech school trying to dance, you get the picture.

I received a resounding 2 yes’s to my proposition and Jesse, Craig and I hit the dance floor, alone. As we kept waving to our friends like we belonged in a mental institute they slowly came over and joined us (I think it was more out of embarrassment than their actually wanting to dance). Accompanying this with my random requests to strangers to come join us the party actually started to get good. People kept joining and eventually the dance floor was full. Everyone was in high spirits and the night looked to have turned around.

I guess the moral of the story is this: even at WPI… where the ratio of guys to girls is about 3:1… during a torrential downpour… there is still fun to be had. So for those of you who have had as long of a week as I have, I leave you with this: Don’t let anything stop you. We’ve all had those nights, but there’s always a way to get the party started. So drink some beers and have some fun!