2008 Woodie Awards
Freshman Column III
Dani Castioni
Issue date: 9/14/07 Section: Opinion
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So, tell me. What do you think about when you hear the words 'care package'? You know what I'm talking about. It's that nice little box sent by Mom (Dad still has to get over his macho before he submits to helping the process). These wondrous cardboard treasure chests come complete with all sorts of things: food, beverages and, let's be honest, the occasional pair of underwear. I am always surprised when I look over at my roommate and see her releasing the magician within as she pulls twenty different things from a package the size of a small pigeon. Then I realized that it is actually the familial bond that gives any aspiring care package creator the ability to squash objects in places they most definitely would not fit in otherwise. This is the art of care packaging, and I am proud to say that the one small box I received from my grandmother was just as perfect as anything.
Enter Dani's mom. She is an amazing artist, an amazing chef and an amazing person who disregards all rules of care package etiquette. This is how I ended up with my very first care package from her, a package which I have since dubbed 'The Beast'. I walked up to Howe to check my mail and smiled as I pulled out the little slip of paper that informed me I had a wonderfully magical package to pick up at the post office. I held onto my little paper with fervor as I skipped to the post office window. As the attendant searched the shelves for the box, I tried to imagine which one was mine. Maybe the little brown one over there? No. The white envelope on the left? Nope. Then the man disappeared behind a desk, and I was left wondering why my box would be on the ground, and not among the rest of the minute parcels.
You see, 'The Beast' wasn't just any old package. It was the ultimate package. It was a package of good and evil, love and lust. It was both a blessing and a curse. It was…it was…30 pounds, and I had to carry it through the pouring rain back to Davis. Okay, so I lied. I had my ginormous friend carry it for me, but you get the point. So he carried the 30-pound box through the pouring rain to Davis and I was left alone in my room to observe 'The Beast' in all its glory.
Enter Dani's mom. She is an amazing artist, an amazing chef and an amazing person who disregards all rules of care package etiquette. This is how I ended up with my very first care package from her, a package which I have since dubbed 'The Beast'. I walked up to Howe to check my mail and smiled as I pulled out the little slip of paper that informed me I had a wonderfully magical package to pick up at the post office. I held onto my little paper with fervor as I skipped to the post office window. As the attendant searched the shelves for the box, I tried to imagine which one was mine. Maybe the little brown one over there? No. The white envelope on the left? Nope. Then the man disappeared behind a desk, and I was left wondering why my box would be on the ground, and not among the rest of the minute parcels.
You see, 'The Beast' wasn't just any old package. It was the ultimate package. It was a package of good and evil, love and lust. It was both a blessing and a curse. It was…it was…30 pounds, and I had to carry it through the pouring rain back to Davis. Okay, so I lied. I had my ginormous friend carry it for me, but you get the point. So he carried the 30-pound box through the pouring rain to Davis and I was left alone in my room to observe 'The Beast' in all its glory.