Nerdy kids at “Return to Hogwarts,” a Harry Potter party in late September. More photos

A man in a dark-colored Red Riding Hood cape just walked in to get coffee. Is this the new sign that fall is here?

I read “Civilization,” a short story by Ryan Boudinit in McSweeney’s Issue 14. What a depressing, utterly true tale riffing on the same philosophies present in Huxley’s “Brave New World.” Couple that with my recent viewing of “Brazil,” the Terry Giliam directed movie about a man tired of modern vanity and inanity, and you have thoroughly and completely depressed me. Mmm, black and inky humor!

Last week, I walked past stretches of Bradley’s Greek Row while breathing in pot and freshmen stank. A classical, ornate hall a few blocks away houses the music department. Twenty-five people find their seats, evenly spread throughout the auditorium as cliquy islands that will never near 6 feet of each other. If I were a performer, I’d stomp and yell and maybe even hurl a chair off the stage in a vain attempt to connect with them.

A grandfatherly man in forest green jacket and tan slacks walks onstage, holding his soprano saxophone. It’s a rough beginning; reminders of Kenny G’s painful sax playing make me look for nearby exits. Things take off with a dark and vivid interpretation of a Rachmoninoff vocalise, the unnerving sound of his circular breathing accompanying him. Soon he’s switching to an alto sax.

“Now THAT’S a saxophone,” shout-whispers an old man in the audience. I hear snickering.