AudgePodge

"I fell into a burning ring of fire..."  The rough rhythm of Johnny Cash booms. My body whirls. Lunges. A heavy weight is shifted to the side, then back again. Screams surround me. It's hot here. My mouth dry from the spinning, from the permissible enjoyment of "Wipeout." Clusters of faces, blurred at the edges, like a wisp of indecipherable grins; teeth baring wide.  It's busy here, at the amusement park...though this is to be expected during the sunny season. Blue murmurs, rays of heat stab the hot metal my arm is lying on. I remember this place well; look back on it with fondness.  A place to which I came to visit most summers.  The monotony of "Pirates Cove," stepping through the pilled curtain into the inky atmosphere, inhaling faux ocean and its staleness of years.  Paper mache swashbucklers hold an intense, lingering gaze.  "Aye, ye mateys." Crunched, noise-polluted audio.  Expectation of the next room, full of smudged mirrors and ...

  The aliens have landed! Well, quite literally. Thousands of people lined downtown McMinnville on Saturday, May 16, to watch the annual UFO Festival parade — full of alien-themed decor and whimsy.  I arrived with my counterparts; my younger sister, boyfriend, and friend. Feeling festive, I sprinkled green glitter around my visage and encouraged the others to partake. We all bore antenna headbands to “blend in” with the crowds.  People started accumulating: Tin foil hats. Neon green tights. Almond-shaped sunglasses. Brightly colored hair. Young children, families, visitors, travelers. All were welcome here. We waited in a long line at the Evergreen Aviation Museum for the complementary shuttle bus to take us to the center of town. The parade was supposed to start at noon but was delayed 30 minutes because of overwhelming attendance.  On 3rd Street, we waited, still swarmed by about 10,000 people, if I were to guess. At 12:30 p.m., the parade started with the first...

  Rites of passage: structured ceremonies or rituals that lead into a person’s adulthood.  We have all experienced something of the sort. Perhaps you felt the most “mature” when you plopped behind the wheel for the first time. Maybe when you first stepped onto a college campus, or into a new job. Or perhaps it was when you graduated high school, and legally became an adult.  Well, for me, nothing really clicked .  Yes, after finally getting my driver’s license after renewing my permit three times, I felt more adult. Yes, after graduating homeschool high school with a GED, I felt more adult. And, yes, with my knees buckled and my hands shaking, I felt most like an adult marching onto a college campus for the first time on Sept. 30, 2025.  But these accomplishments, these average rites of passage, could not compare to the day I learned to successfully tie my shoes, the right way.  The mantras I was told over and over: bunny loop. Around the bend, and then und...

  Greetings, all.  Spring break flourished with potential as blossoms swirled through the streets. For some, this 10-day (give or take) break allowed for miniature vacations, educational and occupational opportunities, and maybe even volunteer work. For me, however, it was just monotonous time. I can’t provide an ever-intriguing article regarding my misadventures—or, lack thereof—but I can apprise you about my personal reflection as spring settles in the air.  Last term: news reporting. This term: feature writing. I am ecstatic. Adjectives and flowery language have been my best friends for years, and ever more so now that I am venturing into two different writing “worlds.” As of now, I continue down the path of journalism with my head held high and my confidence expanding faster than I could have ever predicted.  While I provided a few articles for the Commuter last term, my goals have, just like the tree-lined roads, blossomed into exemplary ambitions. I wish to wri...