Harvard's Hemenway gym, a soccer practice there
Monday October 15, 2012: I entered Harvard's Hemenway Gym (in the law school area), feeling tired out from having had to spend 8 minuted walking, lugging two heavy gym bags all the way from where I had parked my car; the campus was filled with empty parking spots that were permit only, requiring a permit I did not have. I glared at the woman behind the desk, somewhat attempting to instill in her a sense of shame regarding the way my alma-mater, Harvard has in the past treated me; I felt frustrated that my attempt to instill such shame, was impaired due to: the fact that in rushing off to the gym, I had not had a chance to attend to shave or pay close attention to clothes and bags; the humiliating facts revealed by the printout of a page from the Alumni Directory, that I had to use to access the gym.
I was thinking, if I was Harvard staff, this all would have been so much easier: I could have parked 40 yards from the gym, I could have used QRAC, I could have parked just 40 yards from QRAC, I could have stuffed myself in the dining hall. I have recurring dreams featuring me being glad to have a Harvard dining hall pass, but feeling upset because I have lost or misplaced that pass.
From 920 PM to 1045 PM my practice consisted mostly of 30-45' ambidextrous aerial zig-zag runs across the width of the gym (ball propelled mostly by feet, kept close to body and off ground) followed by 15' - 30' shots. The runs at close to full sprint speed, utilized usually four touches on the ball (left & right footed), with the ball kicked around 30 feet at the opposite wall on the 4th touch of the run.
I wanted the ball to really blast the opposite wall in a really impressive manner. I felt angry about how Harvard has treated me in the past. I felt like there exists a disconnect between how the people on the Harvard campus are compatible with me & all I've done for Harvard on the one hand, and how the Harvard administration and personnel office has treated me in the past oh the other.
Yet I restrained myself and inflated the ball to only 8 PSI. I realize that if I had inflated the ball to 12 PSI, the ball would have travelled even faster when I shot it and made an even louder noise when it hit the opposite wall, but my sense of civilized decency won out, my concern for the safety of others and for not offending other users of the gym.
As soon as the basketball action began to leave my half of the gym I 'flew' across the width of it, and so never got in the way of the young men playing basketball.
The combination of the lighting and the color used in the basketball court floor produced a pleasant subdued-sunshine like color. The gym was cool and the air clean and breathable.
Yet I experienced difficulty adjusting to the pleasant Hemenway gym circumstances. My skill level was off I suppose due to: the unfamiliarity of the place; the stress of being watched by important Harvard types; the having had to put unusual amounts of energy into driving and parking. Before the practice I had to first walk for several minutes, carrying my bags from the faraway place I parked to the Quadrangle Athletic Club where I was informed contrary to what they told me a few minutes earlier on the phone, that they do not allow alumni to use the gym for a day for $10; then I had to drive to a spot in the Hemenway gym area. I felt frustrated from seeing so many open parking spots I could not use because they were reserved for Cambridge residents only. The $15 I as an alumni had to pay Harvard to use the gym seemed expensive.
There were about ten young adult males playing full-court basketball while I practiced the soccer. As is usual in American gyms, the 'open gym time' was dominated by a full court basketball game. I looked at the basketball backboards and hoops, with an eye to the wonderful possibility that they could disappear, & imagined what a blessing it would if some gymnasiums devoid of basketball hoops and backboards were to come into existence.
At one point a black female and an East Asian female, young adults, trotted out on to the court to practice volleyball for a few minutes.
After my practice was mostly concluded, a white young adult male with curly black hair, was talking to his friend. I could tell he was talking about me. He said I was not crazy because when people were in the way I did not shoot the ball hard in their direction.
After most of the young men left, there were a couple of white young adult males left in the gym. They were both friendly and polite. One of them seemed to evince a bemused humility regarding how my aerial soccer pyrotechnics were outshining his fumbling around with a basketball. The other looked at me and waved and smiled and said hi.
After the workout I found myself again marvelling at how being on the Harvard campus was like being in another world, a world with a different atmosphere, a world filled with financially successful persons from financially upbeat families, who were not perturbed by all the frightening developments in the current-events world Even lowly Harvard staff know that when the economy crashes they will still have jobs with ultra-endowed Harvard.
Again, the Harvard 'atmosphere'(?) reminded me of a womb, and the people on the campus reminded me of (what I call) 'wombats', creatures admirably psychologically undisturbed by all the frightening developments in the American economy & government and foreign policy. I wondered whether the pleasant relaxing spiritual atmosphere was a result of emails I had sent out to Harvard and to other universities and colleges that interact with Harvard.
I was thinking, if I was Harvard staff, this all would have been so much easier: I could have parked 40 yards from the gym, I could have used QRAC, I could have parked just 40 yards from QRAC, I could have stuffed myself in the dining hall. I have recurring dreams featuring me being glad to have a Harvard dining hall pass, but feeling upset because I have lost or misplaced that pass.
From 920 PM to 1045 PM my practice consisted mostly of 30-45' ambidextrous aerial zig-zag runs across the width of the gym (ball propelled mostly by feet, kept close to body and off ground) followed by 15' - 30' shots. The runs at close to full sprint speed, utilized usually four touches on the ball (left & right footed), with the ball kicked around 30 feet at the opposite wall on the 4th touch of the run.
I wanted the ball to really blast the opposite wall in a really impressive manner. I felt angry about how Harvard has treated me in the past. I felt like there exists a disconnect between how the people on the Harvard campus are compatible with me & all I've done for Harvard on the one hand, and how the Harvard administration and personnel office has treated me in the past oh the other.
Yet I restrained myself and inflated the ball to only 8 PSI. I realize that if I had inflated the ball to 12 PSI, the ball would have travelled even faster when I shot it and made an even louder noise when it hit the opposite wall, but my sense of civilized decency won out, my concern for the safety of others and for not offending other users of the gym.
As soon as the basketball action began to leave my half of the gym I 'flew' across the width of it, and so never got in the way of the young men playing basketball.
The combination of the lighting and the color used in the basketball court floor produced a pleasant subdued-sunshine like color. The gym was cool and the air clean and breathable.
Yet I experienced difficulty adjusting to the pleasant Hemenway gym circumstances. My skill level was off I suppose due to: the unfamiliarity of the place; the stress of being watched by important Harvard types; the having had to put unusual amounts of energy into driving and parking. Before the practice I had to first walk for several minutes, carrying my bags from the faraway place I parked to the Quadrangle Athletic Club where I was informed contrary to what they told me a few minutes earlier on the phone, that they do not allow alumni to use the gym for a day for $10; then I had to drive to a spot in the Hemenway gym area. I felt frustrated from seeing so many open parking spots I could not use because they were reserved for Cambridge residents only. The $15 I as an alumni had to pay Harvard to use the gym seemed expensive.
There were about ten young adult males playing full-court basketball while I practiced the soccer. As is usual in American gyms, the 'open gym time' was dominated by a full court basketball game. I looked at the basketball backboards and hoops, with an eye to the wonderful possibility that they could disappear, & imagined what a blessing it would if some gymnasiums devoid of basketball hoops and backboards were to come into existence.
At one point a black female and an East Asian female, young adults, trotted out on to the court to practice volleyball for a few minutes.
After my practice was mostly concluded, a white young adult male with curly black hair, was talking to his friend. I could tell he was talking about me. He said I was not crazy because when people were in the way I did not shoot the ball hard in their direction.
After most of the young men left, there were a couple of white young adult males left in the gym. They were both friendly and polite. One of them seemed to evince a bemused humility regarding how my aerial soccer pyrotechnics were outshining his fumbling around with a basketball. The other looked at me and waved and smiled and said hi.
After the workout I found myself again marvelling at how being on the Harvard campus was like being in another world, a world with a different atmosphere, a world filled with financially successful persons from financially upbeat families, who were not perturbed by all the frightening developments in the current-events world Even lowly Harvard staff know that when the economy crashes they will still have jobs with ultra-endowed Harvard.
Again, the Harvard 'atmosphere'(?) reminded me of a womb, and the people on the campus reminded me of (what I call) 'wombats', creatures admirably psychologically undisturbed by all the frightening developments in the American economy & government and foreign policy. I wondered whether the pleasant relaxing spiritual atmosphere was a result of emails I had sent out to Harvard and to other universities and colleges that interact with Harvard.
posted by David Virgil at 2:06 AM
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