Dancing in the Rain

In the interest of full disclosure, Hanover is limited in shall we say ‘traditional’ forms of entertainment. The Upper Valley lacks the major sports teams, world-class museums, and famous restaurants that characterize the cities from which many of us hail. And for this, I could not be more grateful. You wouldn’t believe how creative you get when left in the woods.

The group aboard the yellow school bus erupted with cheers as Pete, the T’13 social chair, concluded his speech with a roaring ‘welcome to business school in the middle of nowhere!!!!!!!’. The bus (designed for elementary school students but at the time occupied by a group with a mean age of 28 and estimated standard deviation of two, sorry stats mid term this weekend…) pulled up the winding dirt road to what is known as the Sky Box, one in a series of houses passed down to Tuckies every year (I am still learning the names of these, others include the Tree House and the Boathouse. Next year perhaps I can campaign for a Le Château de la Belle au Bois Dormant). The Sky Box, along with many others, resembled a nice ski chalet with floor to ceiling windows, a large back deck and stellar views of the rolling hills.

The T’13 residents had been so generous as to host the T’14 class for the evening as the follow up to our afternoon events of a class scavenger hunt. The highlight of the afternoon had been the costumes ranging from creative to downright bizarre (one team even dressed up as the characters from a rather infamous case the Tuck first years have been given for the last 30 years) as well as the dance off to crown the final winners. And of course, seeing no fewer than 25 of my classmates at the costume store in Lebanon that morning; this is becoming something of a Saturday morning tradition.

The panoramic views however were soon obscured by ominous rain clouds rolling quickly across the horizon. The hundred people standing outside the house quickly became drenched in the late summer shower. But the yellow school bus was not scheduled to collect us for another couple of hours. What do we do when stuck in a rainstorm in the woods? Turn on some awesomely bad pop music (my favorite, although I admit to having positively atrocious taste in music) and dance! It didn’t seem to matter that everyone’s clothes had become drenched, shoes covered in mud, and costume accessories lost. All we could do was laugh. This kind of a Saturday night may not be worthy of Page Six but it works for me. In fact, I can’t think of anything better.