UNT Blowout 29 Apr, 2005
After a bit of convincing, I went to the “UNT Blowout” tonight (an end-of-semester party, also a really bad name in my opinion, almost as bad as “UNT Cataract” or “UNT DOA”). After the recent string of robberies, they were apparently concerned with security, and had lots of officers milling about and making their presence very much known (standing siholuetted against doorways in the main coliseum, for example). I arrived a few minutes past eight, and a really good brass band was playing (of course, everyone knows I have a sweet spot for bongos, so that’s probably tainting my opinion of them well toward the positive side). They’re playing again this Sunday at the Arts and Jazz fest, but I’ll be busy (aww).
Instead of “dancing” or “grooving” or whatever verb one applies to hip-hop (which is what went on from 8:30-when-I-left), I spent my time observing people. There were on the order of 1000 people there, and of those, I recognized about 8. Most of those were (ironically enough) PLP’ers. About 5% of the people there sat up in the bleachers and talked among one another because they were in groups, oblivious to what was going on around them. Many of the attendees (blowouters? see, bad name) actually ended up just playing the “casino night” tables that were set up in a corner. The groups that headed to the tables were quite diverse compared to the rest of the impromptu groups that formed around the camera stations and the main stage, which I thought was interesting.
One police officer was just hanging out by the tables, giving advice to people. This would have been something great to make a documentary from, if only I was an RTVF major and/or had access to proper equipment. So much was going on, interesting subplots developed.
The most interesting part about the people being drawn to the blackjack table and the other things in the vacinity is that I, too, was drawn. Not to play them, but to sit up a couple rows in the stands, looking down at the peoples’ expressions and trying to read them, understand their backstory, and why they came here while the others didn’t. Argh, this sociology class will be the death of me, I keep looking at things differently.
I tried to locate the convincer (as opposed to the convincee) who told me about tonight, and in doing so noticed that most of the people walked counterclockwise around the perimeter. Why? Don’t ask me. Maybe so they can shake hands easier with the “vendors” (a good number university representatives) giving out “free stuff” (yeah, I’m kind of bitter about paying for our “free stuff”).
- Tim
- “This is Texas. Collin rhymes with Sean.”
- L.A.
- “No it doesn’t, you’d have to be pretty drunk for it to rhyme.”