Deciding to trade my pollen allergy sniffles for the smog whooping cough, I packed my bags and jetted to New York for a summer internship. One of the perks that comes with living on the tiny island is the plethora of daily, free activities to tickle your social fancy. However, nothing screams outdoor fun in NYC more than the Bryant Park Summer Film Festival.

The lawn was roped off when we first got there on July 16, but we went early in order to claim a decent spot. The park became an urban battlefield at 5 p.m. when a staff member blew the whistle, signaling the opening of the floodgates and officially commencing the merriment. City dwellers flew off the gravel lane and onto the lawn, tripping, clawing or clubbing with The New York Times anyone who may have violated their path. It was a lovely experience once we got settled on our blanket, relaxed with our cheap wine buzz and waited for the movie to start.

Dusk was falling, and the time was nearing for To Sir, With Love to begin. Prior to the feature presentation, there was a single preview. The screen came to life as songs from The Beatles danced in the night air. A whirlwind of music and culture from the 1960s flashed before my eyes as the trailer for Across the Universe played on the giant outdoor screen. My mouth hung open beyond my control, and I jumped up with excitement, accidentally kicking a bag of popcorn that sent kernels flying onto the neighboring blanket. “September 14, 2007” read the screen at the end of the preview, a date my mind has recalled more clearly than my own birthday over the past two months.

Summer came and went, and here I am in the seventh week of my senior year at Kent State. Have I been enjoying the revelry? Of course I have! However, there has been a situation, or lack thereof, putting a damper on my Fridays ever since mid-September. Every week I type “44240” in the online movie search engines, scan the entertainment section of the paper and drive by Kent Plaza Theatre to check the marquee. Weeks have passed, and the movie I have been longing to see has never come.

Once again, Ohio, you have failed to deliver the cultural and social nourishment that I need as a 21-year-old human being.

I must admit, growing up here has not been so bad. Up until mid-high school, everything in suburbia was a thrilling adventure. Then I learned how to drive a car and realized there is nowhere to go. I must say, for those of you who are staying true to your roots after graduation, I commend the loyalty you possess for the motherland. I also have a favor to ask: can you use your fresh knowledge to spice things up a bit around here?

I will even do my part before I move to the great beyond, aka Brooklyn. This spring, everyone should come to the Eagle’s Landing lawn, we will battle to the death for good spots and I will project Across the Universe on the side of the apartment complex.

I guess it is up to us to make the fun happen until old man Ohio comes out of retirement.

Amanda Gabriele is a senior fashion merchandising major. Contact her at [email protected].