Ode to a youth group lock-in, or, "How I lost 10 years off my life this weekend."
At 9:30pm Friday night, we begin our journey to defy the nighttime, to dare the moon to tell us to sleep, to caffeinate our bodies into a delirium, and laugh at the sunrise as the last few strains of "High School Musical" play on the television.
At 11:00, the bowling alley turns off the fluorescent overhead lights, turns up the '80s rock, and turns on the blacklights to begin the event known to an exclusive late night fraternity as "Cosmic Bowling." Previously unseen patterns of shooting stars and bowling pins suddenly appear on tables and floors in the purplish lighting, and bowling balls which, under harsh daytime lighting are simply lime-green, are illuminated with swirls of garish exuberance as they race down the lane toward glowing-white pins. What a sight to behold - an overabundance of stimulation for the senses!
It is a feeling of joy that continues as we arrive at our youth room, where we will be cloistered for the next 7 hours, a sanctuary of scratch-made brownies and processed cheese. A cappuccino maker appears, and the room is electrified with pubescent energy. We scoff at the night! It cannot tempt us with visions of pillows and comforters and sleepy-time tea! We will subsist on the pure liquid ecstasy of Dr. Pepper and Mountain Dew! Shine on, shine on, Silver Moon, up in the sky! We pay you no heed! We will play Truth-or-Dare, Jenga, Scattergories, and a recently discovered game of Couch-Pillow Baseball, until well after the sun has again made itself known in the sky.
It is morning, and our quest is complete. We have, indeed, awakened the dawn, amazed to discover that the sun arises from its own resting place at 5:30am. In later reflection as I drift off to sleep, finally succumbing to the safety of my own bed, I can't help but acknowledge the aches in my body. The ironic thing is, I really enjoyed my stint as a youth, so why wouldn't I work with youth groups for the rest of my life? Ah, yes, because I'm old now. That's why.
At 11:00, the bowling alley turns off the fluorescent overhead lights, turns up the '80s rock, and turns on the blacklights to begin the event known to an exclusive late night fraternity as "Cosmic Bowling." Previously unseen patterns of shooting stars and bowling pins suddenly appear on tables and floors in the purplish lighting, and bowling balls which, under harsh daytime lighting are simply lime-green, are illuminated with swirls of garish exuberance as they race down the lane toward glowing-white pins. What a sight to behold - an overabundance of stimulation for the senses!
It is a feeling of joy that continues as we arrive at our youth room, where we will be cloistered for the next 7 hours, a sanctuary of scratch-made brownies and processed cheese. A cappuccino maker appears, and the room is electrified with pubescent energy. We scoff at the night! It cannot tempt us with visions of pillows and comforters and sleepy-time tea! We will subsist on the pure liquid ecstasy of Dr. Pepper and Mountain Dew! Shine on, shine on, Silver Moon, up in the sky! We pay you no heed! We will play Truth-or-Dare, Jenga, Scattergories, and a recently discovered game of Couch-Pillow Baseball, until well after the sun has again made itself known in the sky.
It is morning, and our quest is complete. We have, indeed, awakened the dawn, amazed to discover that the sun arises from its own resting place at 5:30am. In later reflection as I drift off to sleep, finally succumbing to the safety of my own bed, I can't help but acknowledge the aches in my body. The ironic thing is, I really enjoyed my stint as a youth, so why wouldn't I work with youth groups for the rest of my life? Ah, yes, because I'm old now. That's why.
posted by Rachel @ 1:52 PM
2 Comments:
At 5/29/2006 12:13 PM ,
Anonymous said...
Quite poetic, my eloquent love, quite poetic. And with the humor that can only come from describing ordinary events with the candor and vividness as pictures from a dream.
I myself, when reflecting upon our time together, recall the magical world of Neverland - even the old don't quite seem grown-up (a la Brown-Eyed girl serenades), clocks are taboo, and with a certain kind of caffeine fairy dust, most really do wind up flying (off the walls, at least).
At 5/31/2006 1:08 AM ,
j kelly said...
Heehee! you make me laugh. how well i remember the youth group lock-ins. isn't it weird how at a lock-in you stay up all night thinking you accomplished some amazing feat as a teenager and yet little do they know that many nights of pulling all-niters will soon be upon them in their college days (at least if they are anything like me). let them have their fun now all through the night whilst they still can!
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