Nov. 11th, 2011 11:11 am
Ultimate vertical hour
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
muckefuckMy first college roommate was pretty much the embodiment of goofy straight boy charm. His sense of humour was juvenile without really ever being cruel and he appreciated a good prank even when he was the target of it. In his high school back in Kennebunkport, Maine, he originated the tradition of "vertical hour": every school day, at precisely 11:11 and 1:11, everyone in class would raise both arms toward the ceiling like a pair of goalposts and hold them there for the full minute. (Don't think you're the first consider that, in light of this, "vertical minute" would be a much more sensible name.)
He actually tricked me into observing it once. It was late, he was in bed, I was at my desk, and asked me what my reach was. I asked for clarification and he asked me how far I could stretch my arms. So I demonstrated. He found some pretext for keeping them up there, and revealed what he'd done only after the clock had turned over to 11:12.
I've been stuck for a way to commemorate the timestamp on this entry. Despite the laughable arbitrariness of it, it just seems that the moment shouldn't be allowed to elapse without something to mark it. So if you stroll past my house late tonight and glance in the window at precisely the right moment, you might just see a grown man raising in arms to the sky in a manner that might look like supplication if it weren't for the oddly self-conscious smirk on his face.
He actually tricked me into observing it once. It was late, he was in bed, I was at my desk, and asked me what my reach was. I asked for clarification and he asked me how far I could stretch my arms. So I demonstrated. He found some pretext for keeping them up there, and revealed what he'd done only after the clock had turned over to 11:12.
I've been stuck for a way to commemorate the timestamp on this entry. Despite the laughable arbitrariness of it, it just seems that the moment shouldn't be allowed to elapse without something to mark it. So if you stroll past my house late tonight and glance in the window at precisely the right moment, you might just see a grown man raising in arms to the sky in a manner that might look like supplication if it weren't for the oddly self-conscious smirk on his face.