Wednesday, March 5, 2008

"Zaireeka"...


“Track number 1…track number one…track number one…track number one.” “This is CD number 1…number 2…number 3…and number 4.” Each of the four CD players placed strategically on each of the four sides of the room takes a turn in introducing the first song of our experiment. The drums and symbols begin the song with a catchy, upbeat tempo as sound beings to fill the room. The vocals enter and I hear a male voice sing the lyrics “Go On” from the CD player on my left. I hear the entrance of the guitar’s upbeat tempo to the player on my left and then an echo appears in my right. Though words can be heard distinguished at times, most of the song is powerful waves of sound that wash out the vocals. As track two begins, the CDs count themselves off in a robotic fashion. It begins with the gentleness of strings. A large crescendo takes place, followed by unexpected stillness. The vocals enter and become the main focus. The sounds of powerful drums are heard on my right and then the drums enter from the other CD players in a round, one by one. The basses enter on the left and right, as if in a duel, going back and fourth. Vocals surround from all directions and make the words in comprehendible. Light symbols and drums play as the song ends and silence returns. As track three begins the lyrics “Gone insane” describe the crazy, accelerating tempo. As the lyrics wrestle back and fourth between CD players, it becomes apparent that the CDs are even more out of synch than before. Track four enters with two definite beats of the drum and single guitar strums. The guitar clashes with the symphonic sounds that I hear to my left and great dissonance arises. Chaos of competing tempos arises and then the sounds of chirping birds fill the room. It sounds like a flock of excited birds ready to attack. The noise builds up and then a light ending calms the mood. Track five begins with gentle, light strums of a guitar bombarded suddenly by powerful drums from all directions. Track six was simply a track of high pitches and nothing else. The piano begins track 7 lightly, followed by a powerful crescendo of drums . However, the drums back down to and the sound of a powerful storm arises with much wind and rain. Track eight entered with a light and happy mood. A man’s voice is heard from across the room and he talks about stuffed animals. Then, as the song nears it ending, chaos arises and the room fills with the sound of angry barking dogs. Then suddenly, all is quiet again.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Project 1: I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream For Ice Cream








The moment I see the three story brick building my mouth begins to water. The sign in the front window is a lit-up clock with a circle of a bright pink neon light around the edge. Above the clock, in neon green lights are the words “Time to eat.” Just underneath the clock, lit up in white, are the two favorite words of anyone with a sweet tooth “Ice Cream.” I can barely contain my excitement as I walk up the gray cement steps with my tall, blonde haired, friend Lauren and entered Ivanna Cone, the infamous, one and only, homemade ice cream parlor and soda fountain in Lincoln. As a native of the home of the Huskers, I had made a few visits to Ivanna Cone when I was younger. However, I never really thought much about this small business known by all the natives. As a child, I was only interested in enjoying the smooth texture of the premium ice cream. Now, returning to my home town as a first year in college, older and wiser, I was determined to find out what made this small business so special. I realized that this shop was more than just a place to get ice cream, and hidden in the unique atmosphere are symbols and values of our culture.

“Why, yes! We make it all right here!” I read these words written in bright yellow chalk on army green chalkboard as I enter, and realize their significance. Our society loves anything home-made; it gives the product a unique, authentic quality. In a society where convenience is the main concern of businesses, product quality has decreased in importance. Modern day production relies greatly on machines as the ideal way of achieving optimal efficiency. However, the distinct taste of something homemade by hand from scratch, cannot be recreated.

My eyes are drawn to the two large black ice cream mixers to my right that look as if they are genuine old-fashioned mixtures nearly fifty years old with white residue on the exterior. They are separated from me by a silver metal rail. It is as if the railing is symbolizing a barrier to the secrecy of what makes the ice cream so special and unique. Ivanna Cone uses the good old-fashioned ice and salt method to make their premium ice cream flavors, which include sweet cream vanilla, dutch chocolate, pralines and cream, red raspberry, french vanilla, lemon custard, amaretto-peach strawberry, banana, peanut butter chocolate, mint chip, rum raisin, maple grapenut, vanilla ice milk, triple berry sherbert, and lastly mango sherbet. The aroma of the shop is the perfect combination of the wide selection of ice cream flavors. The scent of vanilla and chocolate mix perfectly with the sweet odor of banana to create a smell that makes me suddenly very hungry for a banana split. As I look through this list of “Today’s Flavors” (in the order above) on the large green chalkboard on the pink wall behind the counter, I can’t seem to make up my mind; they all excite my taste buds as I imagine how each flavor would taste on my tongue. Like a child in a candy shop, I long to sample all the varieties.



I am dumb-founded as the tall, dark, and handsome soda jerk in front of me asks “How may I help you?” The critical moment is upon me. The flavors were written in various colors that match the shades of the flavors of ice cream, with white for the varieties of vanilla and bright yellow for lemon custard. The words “Today Flavors” written on the large green chalkboard reminded me that the flavor options would differ the next day, thus I had to make the perfect decision. So to help me make my crucial assessment, I seek the expert advice from Sam the soda jerk. He is an authority figure, wearing a uniform consisting of medium-wash jeans with a few rips that give the pants a sense of authenticity and a red t-shirt with the word “Huskers” in bold, white lettering underneath a white apron. After testing banana, and amaretto-peach strawberry, my tastebuds go crazy as I attempt to decide which one is most appealing. Lauren made her choice and informed Sam saying, in a tone full of hunger, “I’ll take Peanut Butter Chocolate.” My sweet tooth longs for sugar and I dreamily look into Sam’s blue eyes and say “Banana.”

Located in the creamery shop in the historic Haymarket of downtown Lincoln, Ivanna Cone is part of the culture in the capital city. The red “Husker” t-shirt worn by the soda jerk is a representation of another unique aspect of Lincoln.
The capital city is most famous for being the home of the University of Nebraska Cornhuskers. However, Ivanna Cone, though not as big as Husker football, is an aspect of Lincoln that makes this city different from any other. Residents of Lincoln are proud to be the home of Ivanna Cone. The home-made, supreme ice cream, served in a Styrofoam dish, is as integral a part of the city as the color red. As my standard-sized white Styrofoam bowl containing “Banana” Ice cream was handed to me, I knew that I was in for a treat. The creamy, seemingly airless textured, large off-white scoop of ice cream filled the bowl, even though I ordered a “small” dish.

As I sit in the wire-rimmed chair and place my white dish on the square black table with a white edge, I admire the appealing colors all around me. The pink paint on the walls fills the room with a sense of happiness, along with the stripes of pink, green, and purple paint along the bottom of the counter. The light fixtures hanging from the ceiling above the counter supply the room with white incandescent light and provide the sole air of elegance. As ice cream serves, literally and figuratively, as a form of comfort in America, the bright colors of the shop assist in providing an atmosphere that help in creating a feeling of comfort. The calming mood provided by the little shop, in a joint effort with my dish of Banana ice cream amazingly improved my mood. Ivanna Cone’s delicious ice cream and bright array of colors help to promote a feeling of happiness; a quality highly valued in society today.

Ice cream and music both provide happiness and comfort a sour mood; however, together they have a stronger impact than when separated. As the banana ice cream, multi colored light strands decorating the outer edges of the front window, and soft white incandescent light fixtures all assist in creating my feeling of joy, Jack Johnson’s voice in the background is the cherry on top. “Sitting, Waiting, Wishing” comes on over the speakers and fills the colorful room. The coldness of the rich, velvety, seemingly airless ice cream, along with the soothing quality of Jack Johnson’s voice, calm my throat and mind.


My friend Lauren and I begin to sing along at our secluded table around the corner, as we are the only two people occupying the empty shop. While sitting there, I watch two young African American men enter the purple wooden door with green accents. After the two young men had placed their orders and were sitting at a table about nine feet from us, a young woman with long blond hair and a tall brunette arrive with two handsome, dark haired gentlemen and place their order at the white linoleum counter.

America is a nation with many traditions. The Pledge of Allegiance, baseball, apple pie, and old-fashioned ice cream shops have withstood the test of time and will always be a part of our culture. Ivanna Cone, with its black-wire chairs, and old-fashioned glass sundae dishes represent how some things never go out of style in American culture. We respect our past because it is a part of who we are and defines us as a country. In a society where technological advances are happening every day, we still prefer the old-fashioned method of making ice cream. The salt and ice combined with the perspiration produced from the manual labor of cranking the silver handle is what makes the ice cream taste so sweet. The enjoyment I felt from the combination of the mellow sound of John Mayer, the Banana flavor of my ice cream, and the authentic ice cream parlor décor was indescribable. I realized that what makes Ivanna Cone so great is the experience. Visitors to the historic creamery building can expect more than just good ice cream. Ivanna Cone’s air combines the happiness and relief that could be found in an genuine ice cream and soda shop that our parents visited as young adults, aided by the unbeatably satisfying taste of old-fashioned homemade ice cream, relaxing music, and social interaction among friends and family; it is almost like being in the fifties, but without sock hops, bobby socks, and poodle skirts.