Posted by @jdisk in the SBIX Essay Contest.

Paying It Forward

I will always look back at Superball as the moment when phriends became phamily. Really, it wasn't all that difficult. There were a ton of summer camp-like group bonding experiences: setting up tents, falling asleep to trey's "The Man Who Stepped into Yesterday" narration and getting use to each others' distinctive body odors. Moreover, the collective love blossomed when we witnessed one crew member cry during bathtub gin, another turn speechless upon hearing his first colonel forbin’s at his girlfriend's 30th show and, especially, when we all embraced in a re-calibrating group hug in the middle of the ball square jam during one hell of an amazing trip.

Read more...

Posted by @CaptainPookie in the SBIX Essay Contest.

I live in Watkins Glen. I was born and raised here. And other than a collective five years in which I flittered and searched up and down the east coast in my early twenties, this place is all I have ever called home. I spent my childhood diving into these huge, glacial lakes (that never seem to get warmer than the ice-continents that carved them), hearing local Seneca "Indian" elders pass on the oral traditions of the Iroquois Confederacy that once called this place home - and also believed that it was the cradle of civilisation. After-all, we call these "The Finger Lakes" because the Seneca believed that the Creator was so partial to this part of the world, that he showed his approval by sinking his enormous handprint across and deep into the landscape, forming the five, vaguely finger-shaped bodies of water.

Read more...