Duard Headley is going into his second year as culture editor at TMS. Like his predecessor Kate and his co-editor David, Duard is continuing the glorious tradition of culture editors majoring in journalism and American studies. In an alternate timeline, Duard would have been studying abroad in Glasgow, Scotland, this semester, but alas, it was not to be. But that’s OK! Because it means Duard can participate in his other passion, improv comedy, with his team, Sketched Out. Although they aren’t able to hold in-person shows yet, the tomfoolery he gets to participate in during team practices is truly food for his soul. Feel free to reach out to him at headledd@miamioh.edu with fun culture stuff or just to chat about your day.
One booze-based gift I got last Christmas stood out from the rest: a heavy glass cocktail mixer and a small paper booklet of drink recipes. As far as my roommates and I can figure out, the shaker and book are both from around the year 1960, so they’re basically artifacts from a lost age, I guess. And being the enterprising archeologists that we are, we sought to make use of these antique treasures.
There are few things more peaceful and serene than the world after a fresh snowfall. Wrapped in a blanket of white, the ground becomes a pristine canvas and the trees are draped gently in fluffy cotton. Days after a fresh snow are perfect for snuggling up inside and watching the world at rest. Or, in the case of my friends and me, for whipping down a muddy hill at dangerous speeds on cracked pieces of plastic and tenuously-inflated Wal-Mart pool toys.
Ah, Thanksgiving. A holiday known for family gatherings and decadent food. As the warmth of countless ovens pervade an equal number of houses, the rich smells of holiday feasts come wafting with it. The tables are set for lavish dinners, and the spirit of thanks and generosity abounds.
Throughout the streets of Oxford, pumpkins still adorn the porches of house after house, just like they have every year in October. From intricately-carved masterpieces to the tried and true Jack-o’-lantern face, their designs evoke a feeling of fall festivity and spooky splendor.
Some stories delve deeply into the lives of their subjects. Others seek to capture the human condition in just a few words. Modeled after journalist Brady Dennis’ 300 word stories that explore the unfiltered intimacy of the everyday, these pieces offer a glimpse into the untold experiences of Oxford life.
From the outside, Maple Street Commons looks just like it has in previous years. One step inside the front door, however, and that notion is quickly dispelled. In order to comply with COVID-19 protocols and ensure students stay safe when getting their grub, Miami’s dining halls look drastically different than they have in previous years.
Densely-packed bars, dance floors sticky from spilled drinks, streets crowded with jubilant Miamians — all hallmarks of a typical weekend in Oxford. And up until a few months ago, seen week in and week out. Now, nearly six months after Oxford’s bar scene shut down, it’s coming back to life.
The Miami University Board of Trustees will evaluate the university’s budget during its June meeting, taking into consideration the negative effects of the novel coronavirus, in an attempt to plan for the fall.
This is “Thoughts from Quarantine,” a weekly series in which three of our editors will answer a variation of this simple question: “How are you feeling?” This week’s prompt is, “How are you feeling about online classes?”
On some days, Oxford seems deserted. Along High Street, shops and restaurants lie empty; the warm neon of their “open” signs stand in stark contrast to their vacant interiors. On colder days, uptown park is devoid of life, its stone animal statues the only creatures to be found. Brick Street, the de facto hub of the uptown social scene, greets visitors with shuttered windows and a sign that reads “We miss you. Stay safe.” When the sun shines, Oxford emerges, and the would-be ghost town is strangely full of life.