2B — Thursday, September 8, 2016
the b-side
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

At most parties, you can either 

feel lost or lose yourself.

Depending on the atmosphere 

and location, a party — more 
specifically, a college party — is 
the space for young people to 
dance, talk, drink, smoke, laugh, 
make out and interact with 
strangers and friends.

A party can be an unnerving 

experience, even a mediocre one 
at that. The place may be too 
crowded or too empty, the music 
may be wack, or it just might not 
be your night.

But with the right people 

and elements, a party can be a 
fun and ultimately worthwhile 
event. Whether in the humid, 
suffocating intimacy of an 
enclosed fraternity basement, the 
spaciousness of a house shindig 
or the rowdiness of an outdoor 
function, every party, whether 
big or small, has something 
to offer to the overall college 
experience.

During this past Welcome 

Week, many students embarked 
on their first, 13th or perhaps 
40th college party, excited about 
the prospects of each evening 
and already nauseous from 
stuffing down five Smirnoff shots 
and a PBR only moments before. 
Before an equally promising and 
nerve-racking semester at the 
University of Michigan would 
ensue, these several nights 
allowed students, new and old, to 
utilize their independence, forget 
about their everyday worries and 
indulge in a much-needed dose of 
going out.

Last Friday and Saturday 

night, many got to have 
that satisfying release of 
unadulterated freedom at 
the annual Mary Court and 
Greenwood Block Parties, which 
respectively exemplified some 
of the typical “college party” 
attributes: throwback songs, 
drunkards galore and lots of 
uncomfortable pushing and 
shoving.

Friday night at Mary Court
At Mary Court, a neat 

corner tucked away from the 
quiet streets of Ann Arbor, a 
cacophony of voices permeated 
the cool Friday night air with 
a tinge of exuberance. Set in 
a gravel patch between two 
parallel rows of solid-colored 
bungalows, the Mary Court 
Block Party was already in 
motion by 10:30. The venue was 
pretty crowded, consisting of a 
varied cast of normal-looking 
and eccentric characters: girls in 
skimpy outfits; boys wearing tank 
tops and basketball jerseys; three 
blondes holding fruit punch 
Gatorades and Snapchatting 
themselves; a dude in a Hawaiian 
shirt turning up way too hard to 
Kevin Gates’s “Really Really;” a 
G-Eazy doppelganger with a jean 
jacket, a septum nose ring and 
’90s glasses attempting to do a 
cool smoke trick; a guy casually 
wearing a Yoshi hat helmet. A 
Bernie Sanders cardboard cutout 
also made a guest appearance.

The acrid stench of cigarette 

smoke was palpable from all 
around, while red Solo cups 
were scattered on the ground, 
some crushed and others plain 
empty. Near the first house 
at the beginning of the block, 
the snarling snare and blaring 
bass reverberated from the 
speakers, blasting an eclectic 
mix of EDM, Rae Sremmurd, 
the Chainsmokers and Kanye 
West. Even Natasha Bedingfield’s 
“Unwritten” played at one point, 
prompting everyone to unearth 
their 2004 selves and belt out the 
unforgettable chorus in unison.

As many danced uneasily and 

engaged in excited conversations, 
the focus was directed toward 
the Mary Court party’s main 
attraction: the tall tree trunk 
standing on the edge of the block. 
A mixed wave of anxiety and 
awe washed over the crowd, as 

gung ho partygoers climbed to 
the top of the trunk and were 
consequently met with people 
chanting “Jump!” It was mostly 
drunk dudes who ascended 
this formidable leafless tree. 
In particular, one of the many 
guys wearing basketball jerseys 
sat proudly atop the trunk, 
alternating between chugging 
a 40 of malt liquor and smoking 
a cigarette with unabashed 
bravado. The looks on people’s 
faces, which were mostly 
obscured by the light from the 
surrounding lampposts, ranged 
from concerned to astonished. 
Luckily, none of the tree climbers 
got injured once they climbed 
back down to the ground and 
resumed their party-going 
experience.

Despite the high energy 

exuded from the block party, 
Mary Court was relatively 
mild. Sure, walking through 
a highly concentrated throng 
of people was a bit rough and 
overwhelming. Pivoting in place 
without bumping into someone 
is nearly impossible at any party. 
But considering its outside 
location, Mary Court kept things 
under control and acted as a nice 
alternative to the usual confined, 
sweat-inducing spaces of frat or 
house parties. As for the next 
night, the Greenwood Block 
Party would prove that a balance 
between a positive atmosphere 
and controlled chaos is key to a 
successful social gathering. 

Saturday night at 

Greenwood

Saturday morning’s tailgating 

and the afternoon opening 
football game against Hawaii 
left many students exhausted 
and sunburned, but that didn’t 
stop most from venturing to the 
Greenwood Block Party later that 
night. Greenwood was especially 
hyped up after last year’s blowout 
got shut down early by the police.

“I wanted it to be bigger than 

previous years,” wrote Charles 
Antonelli, a Kinesiology senior 
and the main organizer of the 
Greenwood Block Party. In 
an email interview, Antonelli 
also remarked that “usually, 
it’s tradition to have the party 
on a Thursday but I didn’t put 
that as an immediate option 
because more people show up on 
weekends.” 

More elongated and spacious 

than Mary Court, the asphalt 
road of Greenwood Avenue 
lies between two rows of brick 
houses, each consisting of brown, 
yellow, white and blue colors. In 
order to avoid getting shut down 
early, the party commenced 
around 8:15 and was already 
packed by 9 p.m.

Because of the block’s large 

capacity, the amount of people this 
time was even more than Mary 
Court’s, but comprised of more 
or less the same kind of people: 
dudes in long-sleeved Vineyard 
Vines shirts, short sleeve button 
downs and polos and girls in 
loose clothing and tank tops. No 
crazy costumes or faux hipsters 
were in sight.

A giddy sensory overload 

dominated Greenwood’s vibe: 
beer bottles shattered on the 
ground, a twin bed mattress 
being carried around and friend 
groups screaming with glee 
as their jam was played from a 
distance. While hundreds of antsy 
interactions were happening, the 
bumping sound waves of Chance 
the Rapper’s “All Night,” Mike 
Posner’s ubiquitous “I Took A Pill 
in Ibiza (Seeb Remix),” generic 
trap music and even a live band 
pulsated throughout the street.

Like the previous night’s 

rendition of “Unwritten,” the 
crowd screeched when Neil 
Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” came 
on and predictably screamed the 
obligatory “BUM BUM BUM!” 
line. The Killers’ “Mr. Brightside” 
and Jimmy Eat World’s “The 
Middle” — two college party 
favorites — were also played and 

sung during the night. On the 
balcony of one of the Greenwood 
houses, you could see an entire 
horde of people there, all huddled 
together like a colony of penguins 
in the Arctic, the glow of their 
phone screens and camera flashes 
flickering like millennial fireflies.

Similar to Mary Court, the 

party’s collective attention was 
once again drawn to people 
climbing a tall structure in the 
midst of the block, this time a 
telephone pole. The reactions 
were nearly identical, with many 
cheering and yelling for people to 
jump and others cowering with 
uneasiness. Safety, however, is 
something that Antonelli noted 
as imperative for a party as huge 
as Greenwood.

“We always keep an eye out 

for people who are drinking 
too much and making sure 
no damage happens to our 
neighboring houses,” Antonelli 
wrote. “The block kind of 
watches out for each other in 
that respect. The block party is 
fun, but not at the expense of 
someone’s safety.”

Climbing a telephone pole 

is certainly a cause for danger, 
but luckily, no one got hurt, and 
the party resumed in normal 
fashion. No belligerent drunks 
instigated a fight, despite some 
incoherent screaming. Not 
even the two cars that drove 
through the avenue could stop 
Greenwood from collapsing into 
disarray. A random Greenwood 
attendee happened to jump on 
one of the cars, though it was 
unclear as to whether or not the 
driver was just passing through 
or purposefully cruised through 
the street to show off. The scene 
certainly wasn’t as frenetic as the 
climactic Deathmobile sequence 
in “Animal House,” but it was still 
just as awesome and rebellious. 
Greenwood stayed alive until 
its inevitable end at around 11:15 
when the police arrived, which 
Antonelli hadn’t expected, 
writing that he anticipated 
them to come much earlier, at 
10:00. Nevertheless, this caused 
participants to flee in random 
directions and perhaps venture to 
another recreational excursion, 
or South U Pizza for some late-
night grub.

Just like Mary Court, 

Greenwood represented what a 
large party can offer: solid music, 
an open space and good vibes. 
To paraphrase from F. Scott 
Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby,” 
large parties can be intimate and 
small parties usually don’t have 
as much privacy. Large parties 
can definitely feel somewhat 
daunting, especially if you enter 
one alone or if you’ve never been 
to one before. However, with 
the right attitude and people, 
they don’t have to feel like they 
are. Ideally, everyone is there to 
enjoy themselves and relish in 
the pleasure of being young and 
uninhibited from responsibility 
(at least, in the moment). 

Final thoughts
But what makes a party fun 

isn’t just the party itself. It’s the 
people, the friends you’re with 
who contribute to the overall 
experience. Most parties in 
general are mundane and can 
become routine outings. They 
can be anxiety-inducing and 
scary. Many questions may 
linger in your mind before going 
out: Am I going to get plastered? 
Will I make out with someone 
tonight? Will I meet “the one?” 
Is a fight going to break out? 
Will the party get shut down 
before anything fun or crazy 
happens?

All of those questions are 

valid, but remember this: the 
night is young. Being with your 
friends makes the most out of 
your social experience of college 
and it’s not too late to go out 
to a party with them, dance 
like nobody’s watching, kiss a 
random person (or don’t!) and 
just live in the moment.

XL RECORDINGS

Screaming into the void.

By SHIR AVINADAV

Daily Food Columnist

I can’t point to the moment I 

first fell in love with cooking. It 
was a gradual process, shaped 
by years of experiences. I 
can recall early memories of 
kneading dough for rugelach 
in my grandmother’s kitchen, 
studying breaded chicken sizzle 
in a frying pan guarded by my 
mom and watching “Iron Chef” 
on Food Network after school.

Food has always been central 

to my family life and early 
experiences, but it became 
something that I identified 
with 
personally 
soon 
after 

I began high school. At this 
point, my family had moved 
back to Israel, plucking me from 
my newly settled life as a high 
school freshman and thrusting 
me 
into 
a 
culture 
I 
was 

unaccustomed to. In the frenzy 
of assimilating to sights, sounds 
and language unfamiliar to me, 
I took comfort in one of the only 
factors of my existence that had 
always been a constant: food.

Soon after our frantic move, 

I developed a taste for foods 
no longer as easily available 
to me as they were when I 
lived in the U.S. Determined 
to still consume them, I took 
to internet recipes. Soon I 
could recite chocolate chip 
cookie and cupcake recipes 
from memory and improvise 
entire meals without a second 
thought. 
Indulging 
in 
the 

comfort 
of 
familiar 
foods 

secured my confidence and 
eased my transition into this 
new and unfamiliar world. 
The more I cooked, the more 
self-assured I became in the 
kitchen — constantly seeking 
out guidance from food blogs 
and feeding my curiosity (no 
pun intended) for new recipes 
and techniques.

The knack for cooking I 

picked up during one of the 
most tumultuous periods of my 
life has stuck with me to this 
day, and for that I’m extremely 
grateful. When I come home 
after 
a 
long, 
sometimes 

difficult day, nothing eases my 
stress or clears my mind like 

rhythmically 
stirring 
sauce 

or sautéing veggies over the 
stove. 
Trying 
new 
recipes 

makes me feel motivated and 
inspired. And snapping a pic of 
a perfectly golden pie crust or 
beautifully frosted cake fills me 
with pride.

Now a college senior (on 

a college budget), food and 
cooking hold a different place in 
my life — though they are of no 
less importance. Living on my 
own has transformed the way 
I perceive and experience both 
the ways in which I use and 
consume food. The stereotype 
that college students eat poorly 
due to lack of time, money and 
effort has in little to no way 
defined 
or 
diminished 
my 

passion for cooking. Nor is it 
reflective of how students eat.

Firstly, I apologize if you’re 

currently 
reading 
this 
in 

between spoonfuls of Kraft 
Mac 
& 
Cheese. 
This 
isn’t 

intended to make anyone feel 
badly about their eating habits 
or culinary skill level (I myself 
enjoy 
the 
occasional 
bowl 

of Easy Mac, though I much 
prefer 
homemade 
mac 
and 

cheese). During a time that is 
characterized by the particular 
difficulty 
of 
juggling 
our 

academic and social lives with 
our health (yes, I’m looking at 
you, Skeeps Thursday $1 Long 
Islands and late-night NYPD), 
what 
we 
eat 
is 
especially 

important — for both our 
mental and physical health.

The truth of this statement 

occurs to me each time I whip 
up a pot of homemade chicken 
soup to cure a finals-induced 
cold or feel soothed by making 
one 
of 
my 
favorite 
deals 

(meals?) after a stressful day of 
classes. Though cooking may 
be easily dismissed by some 

as an expenditure of time and 
money that they can’t afford 
while in school, and for some 
that may be the case, cooking 
is so ingrained into my being 
that going without it seems 
unimaginable. Like running or 
writing is for some, cooking is 
a passion and an extension of 
who I am that fits into my life 
no matter the circumstances. 
Since 
attending 
college, 

altering the way it fits into my 
life has become an exciting and 
important life lesson.

I now revel in the challenge 

of coming up with something 
tasty to make out of refrigerated 
leftovers, pantry items or those 
last three ingredients I have 
lying in my fridge before I give 
in and go grocery shopping. 
The feeling of triumph derived 
from 
easily 
converting 

ingredients 
into 
something 

new and delicious trumps the 
gratification of immediately 
satisfying my hunger with a 
meal procured from the freezer 
or a carryout box. Taking the 
time and energy to cook my 
meals that challenge the habits 
I developed while cooking at 
home has made me feel like 
I’ve begun to shape a lifestyle 
of my own that will continue 
on after college. Whether it’s 
academically or socially, being 
in college provides us every 
day with the opportunity to 
do something that will shape 
who we are once we leave our 
beloved Ann Arbor.

Learning to transfer a part of 

my life that I was accustomed 
to before school and that was 
spurred by a change similar to 
the one we undergo while in 
college has made me appreciate 
its presence in my life all the 
more. Now that I’ve grown as 
a cook while in college, I feel 
all the more empowered to 
take on whatever awaits me 
once I leave (especially now 
that I’m a senior). No matter 
what happens, I’ll always have 
cooking.

Avinadav is judging you for your 

Easy Mac. To send complaints, 

email savinadav@umich.edu. 

FOOD COLUMN

Why I learned to love 

to cook

I’ll always have 

cooking, no 
matter what.

From Page 1B

By CHRISTIAN KENNEDY

Daily Music Editor

Earlier 
this 
week, 
my 

roommate and I attempted to 
nail down life’s crucial question: 
Who is America’s sweetheart? 
We eventually settled on the 
fact that we’re living through 
a sweetheart-less moment in 
America, but now, I realize 
we 
were 
wrong. 
America’s 

sweetheart is, in fact, British. 
And her name is Adele.

The singer played the first of 

two sold-out gigs at The Palace 
of Auburn Hills Tuesday night. 
Lasting 
almost 
two 
hours, 

Adele’s show is timeless and 

overwhelmingly personable — 
not unlike the singer herself. 
The dichotomy of Adele’s soul-
crushing sound and boisterous 
personality proved to be a killer 
combination; when she wasn’t 
hitting every note, she was 
cracking jokes between songs. 
Topics ranged from her love of 
day-drinking, a hip-hop class 
she’s taking and even landlines.

With a sporadic touring history, 

Adele tactfully paid homage to all 
of her studio albums, 19, 21 and 25 
Tuesday. Opening with “Hello,” 
she emerged from the B-stage 
serenading the back half of the 
arena before turning toward the 
front on the first chorus.

The night consisted entirely 

of Adele standing, occasionally 
swaying and hitting every note. 
The setlist was comprised of her 
signature 
ballads, 
save 

a short, seated 
acoustic 
set 

and a pair of 
songs 
that 

have 
“actual 

beats” 
— 

a 
quality 

she 
admits 

confuses her. 
If she was confused, the crowd 
couldn’t tell by her booming 
performance of “Rumour Has 
It” and the impassioned “Water 

Under The Bridge.” And later 
in the show, she drew in all of 
the husbands who got dragged 
out on a Tuesday with a cover 

of “Make You 
Feel My Love” 
by Bob Dylan, 
calling 
Dylan 

the 
“greatest 

songwriter of all 
time.”

The 
show’s 

strongest 
moment 
came 
when 

the chanteuse returned to the 
B-stage for “Chasing Pavements,” 
“Someone Like You” and “Set Fire 
to the Rain.” Each performance 

was special and spectacular in its 
own way. “Chasing Pavements” 
set the groundwork for Adele’s 
rise with 21 and the smash 
success of “Rolling in the Deep.” 
The crowd’s participation during 
the second and third choruses 
of “Someone Like You” is half 
the reason the song feels so 
momentous, but even without 
their 
participation, 
Adele’s 

clear love for the track would 
without a doubt carry it to the 
same lengths. And the final song 
before the encore, “Set Fire to 
the Rain,” found Adele in the 
center of the square platform, 
surrounded by walls of rain on 
all sides.

Performing 
in 
the 
same 

black, sequined ball gown for 
the entirety of the show, Adele 
exuded 
a 
certain 
coolness 

throughout the night. She’s a 
master of stank-face and shoulder 
rolls, and even the “Rolling in the 
Deep” encore had a casualness 
that’s absent without Adele’s 
stage presence. When the arena 
wasn’t filled with her unwavering 
vocals, it was filled with her 
laugh. Adele’s 2016 tour isn’t just 
a showcase of her musical ability; 
it’s a showcase of Adele herself, 
one of the few artists with both 
the music and the personality 
to create a music-hall vibe in an 
18,000-person arena.

Adele dazzles during 
first night at Palace

CONCERT REVIEW

America’s 

sweetheart is 

British.

