Not Patrick Stewart

So much for exciting stuff not happening everyday—Week 1 (since last week was 0) started off famously. That is to say, I met Kevin Spacey. Okay, let me back up.

As I may have forgotten to write about before, I finally made it to Hall (dinner). It’s a three-course affair on long tables with ambiance. The Master and some assorted other faculty sit at the head table, and upon their entrance, all students stand and await the benediction (the Master bangs the gavel and says, “Benedictus benedictum,” I think). Waiters, who are mostly student workers, bring the courses and whisk away the empty plates.

They post the week’s menu outside the Hall, so you can skip the meals you don’t like or queue up early for your favorites. On Monday, I was checking the menu and thinking to myself, I don’t really want that, maybe I’ll duck out for kebabs. But I overheard some Brits saying that Kevin Spacey (who is a visiting lecturer at St. Catz this year—last year it was Patrick Stewart) would be joining us for dinner, and they would be serving wine to the students. Having that story, regardless of what ‘beef daube’ was, I figured would be worth it.

I was early, so I sat quite at the front of one of the tables with some other Americans I knew. All the places filled up, and everyone soon knew who our guest of honor would be. We waited and waited, heads constantly turning toward the door, checking the activity of the wait staff, watching the suits move around. Waited, waited, waited.

Finally, about ten minutes late, the whole room stood up suddenly, in unison, and there was silence as people peered over each other to glimpse the Master and Mr. Spacey walking to the head table. The actor said a few words before the benediction, and we all sat down and waited to be served. But as the macaroni was going around the table, here I am dumping some on my plate, some on the table, picking it from the table to my plate, here’s activity behind me and a hand on my back. It’s Kevin Spacey, come to work the crowd. The English girls sitting next to me were too something to speak, but I and the other American boys got some banter going. He seemed relieved to hear our accent. We talked, he walked away. The English girls looked a little spacey after that.

Anyway, that’s the story of how I met Kevin Spacey. Really, Patrick Stewart would have been WAY cooler. Other interesting stuff happened too.

For instance, I went to my first Oxford lecture on Monday too, Introduction to Logic. I haven’t taken Logic yet at regular school, so I need to take it next semester, so I thought this would be a nice headstart. It probably will be. I realized when I arrived in the lecture hall that, gosh, there are other students of Oxford than just those at St. Catz. Some bad smelling ones too. The hall was big, with a big projector screen and a German guy with a mic, and about thirty people who each had a cough.

I also went to my first crew practice on the River Isis. It was a novice training session, but I think as many times as I say, I’ve done this before, they’ll still put me in the novice boat. That’s fine. They seemed at least a little glad to have one steadier oar in the bow. And the cox-box (microphone used by coxswain to give instructions) wasn’t working, a la my high school crew days.

At the Fresher’s Fair, I gave my name to the Oxford Kings Baseball Club, who are playing a tournament this weekend. Of all the sport clubs at Oxford, this is probably the scrappiest. We have our first (of only two) practices tomorrow, and today I got an email requesting former players to pool their mitts and uniforms so there are enough to go around. (Whereas the St. Catz rowing club definitely has its own boathouse with about eight boats. That’s eight more than we had at my high school, and infinitely more boathouse.) After baseball practice, I’m going to try to make the sign-up session with the Walking (read: easy hiking) Club.

Where’s all the work I promised? It’s there. Yesterday I met my primary tutor, who suppressed her disappointment that I don’t speak Latin, and tonight she emailed me my first reading list, which are a few books about Lucretius’ life and times. I’m still reading Hamlet (I’m aiming to read it twice before I start writing a paper and turning to secondary information about Tragedy). And I think I have time for all of this.

There was something else I meant to write about too—when I remember, there it’ll be.