Top 10 De Klomps

The Crumpets try on some De Klomps for size in Holland . . . Michigan.

De Klomp #1: De Klomps. Ornate wooden craft clogs designed and worn by the Dutch. The largest De Klomp factory in the U.S. is in Holland, Michigan. Right next door to the tulip farm and, fittingly of course, the bison farm. Holland, Mich: De Klomps, tulips, and bison meat—and no, that’s not Amsterdam code for “coffee shop.”

De Klomp #2: Lake Michigan, or Lake Mich, does in fact have rip currents. Apparently, rip currents are not only restricted to saltwater; though why anyone would reasonably think that I certainly couldn’t say. When the Great Lake isn’t frozen, it happens to be just like the beach with the added bonus of NO SEAWEED. Nor lakeweed for that matter.

De Klomp #3: Gotta love road trippin’ with little sis.
“Hey, I don’t appreciate you slapping me and then telling me to ‘get my head on straight. Give me the map.’”

De Klomp #4: The wind on Lake Michigan is so powerful that it creates waves gargantuan enough to warrant such posted signs everywhere: “Beware of rough seas.” I suppose we are to assume “sea” then refers to freshwater bodies of water. Though in the event of “rough seas,” water recreants have the quaintness of Lake Macatawa, connected by canal to Lake Michigan. The canal was dug by hand by Dutch settlers in the 1700s and is now used as a safe little haven for sailboats rushing out “to sea,” nearly capsizing in the wind, and then retreating back to the calm canal.

De Klomp #5: “Smells like mustard.”
“And lettuce.”
“Smells like a sandwiches!”
Thank you, Heinz factory of Holland.

De Klomp #6: “Indiana Port Authority” seems at first glance to be an oxymoron. Yet surprisingly, Indiana’s Burns Harbor is actually one of the most bustling ports in the U.S. for steel and grain export from the Midwest.

De Klomp #7: You know a hole-in-the-wall shoe, er De Klomp, factory is worth visiting if Mr. Rogers (Mr. McFeely in tow) and the Queen of Holland have also paid a visit.

De Klomp #8: Cities that bear the brunt of harsh winters and icy sidewalks often heat the city sidewalks with underground gas pipes to keep the sidewalks ice/snow/injury-free.

De Klomp #9: Climb 200+ steps to the top of “Mount Pisgah” in Holland and just let people think you mean the Appalachian Trail Pisgah. The Mount Pisgah of Holland is not exactly a “mount,” but more a glorified sand dune.

De Klomp #10: In the nigh-on-1 a.m. lull down a cruise-controlled stretch of eerie prairie highway, the kind where you catch a glimpse of haunting cornstalks every now and again taking you back to “Children of the Corn” or chainsaw-haunted church group corn mazes, light of any sort is a rare comfort. Listlessly staring into the wine-dark sea of sky [sic], all is quiet to the eye on the western/northern/whatever-n front . . . when suddenly science fictive giants descend with red blinking eyes towering and surrounding for miles. And miles. And miles. Hundreds of red beams blinking in finely regulated syncopation. You run through a quick list of plausible hypotheses: airfield, second coming, Transformers, WWIII air raid, landmine markers . . .windmills? Windmills. And suddenly you are the Don Quixote of the post-modern age. Such is the USA’s appropriation of Holland’s Red Light District.

Crump it Up List: Half of My Heart—9/10ths John Mayer, 1/10th Taylor Swift; Bye Bye Baby—Bay City Rollers; Cracklin’ Rosie—Neil Diamond; Right Round—Flo Rida

Most Wanted List: Leggings

Top 10 Rhetorical Situations

The Crumpets go to grad school...
Rhetorical Situation #1: Graduate teaching assistant orientation week is essentially English boot camp, characterized mostly by hundreds of introductions and awkward juggling acts balancing pizza on knee-caps, keeping drink cups level, craning to decipher chest-emblazoned name tags, all while carrying on stimulating conversation with people lightyears more brilliant than the average juggler, and of course, always commenting on the “rhetorical situation” of the moment.

Rhetorical Situation #2: A new speaker takes the podium and addresses the auditorium of new grad students and slowly, impressionably, begins her dictum: “Now . . . we’re all human beings. And human beings change. From hour to hour. Day to day. Week to week. We all make mistakes. Therefore engaging in intimate relationships with students is strongly discouraged. As is being Facebook friends.” You just thought the sex talks were over. And this is only the opening line.

Rhetorical Situation #3: The hunt for the perfect study carrel is a strenuous process with numerous important factors to consider. Avoiding a horrendous Neyland Stadium monstrosity. Testing draft/air flow and AC alignment. Avoiding proximity to high traffic noise-centers, such as the mockingly cheery dinging elevators. The list goes on. Which is why carrel selection takes nearly a solid hour if done properly with an unflinching checklist.

Rhetorical Situation #4: Why one studies literature . . . to hear one’s graduate studies director say thing such as this: “Always be drunk. If you wake up in the morning and aren’t feeling sufficiently “drunk,” perhaps we should be having a chat. I believe this quote was crafted under the influence of the quotable Charles Baudelaire.

Rhetorical Situation #5: Balancing alcohol intake with coherent academic conversation with superiors was never an issue at dry-campus Berry, which makes these quasi house parties at professors’ homes (with coolers upon coolers of alcohol) an exercise in stoic drunkenness and/or temperance.

Rhetorical Situation: #6: Even leaving an hour before the first class on the first day will not likely allow one a spot in the commuter lots at UT. What’s worse is, once in a parking garage, there is not choice but to keep circling and circling to get out. Twenty minutes later, suspicion confirmed. No spaces available.

Rhetorical Situation #7: This is what happens in workshop tutorials on teaching English 101 after the overview of the grand rhetorical triangle. “Is every situation a rhetorical situation?” “What about living organisms? The rhetoric of trees, for instance.” “Well, trees, if for instance, planted for a certain purpose to create a landscaping effect to communicate a certain ethos, yes. There is a designer with an agenda behind planting trees.” “But trees of themselves. Do trees have rhetoric?”

Rhetorical Situation #8: Scaling back from twenty hours a week to five a week in a writing center with no session reports feels like writing center retirement . . . for now, at least. Unfortunately, I didn’t get dual benefits on my reading load for class.

Rhetorical Situation #9: Another great pearl of admonition. “Don’t hold office hours at night in secluded places, where students may feel uncomfortable meeting with you.” There was general question in our row of critical thinkers if IHOP falls under this description.

Rhetorical Situation #10: I, Jessica Hoover, have an office. Yes. Where I can hold office hours if I so choose. Follow the formaldehyde scent, wade through the rubble of Neyland Stadium under construction, wind down a creepy hallway designated somewhere in the 1940s as “South Stadium Hall,” and there you will find me. So, office hours anyone?

Most Wanted List: Second floor Evans Hall, Berry College

Crump It Up List: “Rock & Roll” and “All Over Now”—Eric Hutchinson, “Break Even”—The Script to my parking garage labyrinths, “The Lady of Shalott" —Loreena McKennitt boost of scholarly lyric, and “I Have Confidence”—Julie Andrews/Maria

(“Crumpets Continued” is a collection that seeks cultural anomaly in the domestic in lieu of the currently unattainable “abroad,” recognizing that every microcosmic drop of the world creates echoes.)