An old adage reminds us that we don't know what we got 'til it's gone."" When the first big snowfall of the year brought war to the Lakeshore dorms, we realized only too late the value of our lost peace. Tension had been boiling under the surface for weeks, if not months. The snow brought friends out to frolic, but a simple territory dispute would bring a house to the brink of chaos - and over the edge.
But we had to fight. For many ages Showerman House had laid claim and autonomy to the small knoll on the edge of our courtyard. I suppose it was the intrinsic value and beauty of our great tree, towering over the courtyard, which brought Mack House's great and terrible snowball army to our door.
Showerman is known throughout the Madison, if not the world, as a super-power in the dorm community. We are a proud people, and ancient protectors and enforcers of the Lakeshore. When a few uppity rebels from Mack entered our borders and dubbed our knoll ""Mack Park,"" we knew we had to fight. A unanimous vote in the Showerman Senate followed only an hour later. By mid-afternoon, we were preparing for the glory of battle. Oh how naive we were back then.
Our shock and awe campaign seemed so effective at first. Snowballs reigned upon the unsuspecting residents of Mack. The Mackians scattered and the proud troops of Showerman marched onto the knoll claiming their destined place in Lakeshore legend.
""Mission Accomplished"" banner flying proudly over the battlefield, we played the Showerman anthem ""Closing Time"" by Semisonic. The war had taken a toll on our iTunes reserves, leaving this as the only viable option. ""The Thong Song"" did not fit the somber feeling of battle won and lives lost.
But now came the true test for Showerman - controlling the territory. There were still many Mack insurgents, and skirmishes broke out daily. Our victorious swell of patriotism broke down as day in and day out friends were turning up, face down in the snow, riddled with bruises and stubbed toes. Forces continued to clash. Cars were egged, political leaders were purple nurpled, and still, no stability could be established on the knoll. It had become a frosty quagmire. Words cannot describe the horror.
The newsmedia may try to show what it is like over on Lakeshore, but until you're standing knee deep in ice, staring down a Mackian who has just white-washed your best friend in a snow bank, you can't know what it is like. I was there. I snowballed three men. I saw them cry.
Ambassadors from Showerman traversed to the Mack sector of the land. Impoverished people, living in a constant state of fear, dotted the landscape. Negotiations began to establish a structure to the now disorganized area. However, the damage had already grown exponentially. Smaller houses began following Mack's lead in challenging Showerman. Turner was displeased with their limited control in the region. While Turner had once held a powerful section of Lakeshore, they were now reduced to control of the newly installed septic tank. The NERF footballing of several prominent Showerman House members made an already tense situation worse. Diplomacy broke down and I was assigned to another tour of duty, shipping out of Snow Fort Bragg.
We were now entrenched in a pointless and draining snowball fight. The once beautiful knoll was now symbolic of our mounting regret. This might be my last column. If I don't make it out, tell the seafood rangoon at Frank's I loved it most of all.
If you'd like to join the Showerman war effort or just like the seafood rangoon, send Megan an e-mail at mcorbett2@wisc.edu.
