Nice, Nice, Very Nice Anonymous

Please write a personal statement.

The day Kurt Vonnegut died my friend Becca called me crying. “So it goes,” I said, and we chuckled in spite of our sadness. We had become devotees of Vonnegut since our introduction to Cat’s Cradle two years ago, and had long talked about holding an appreciation day at Kailua Beach. I suppose his death acted as a catalyst, for we finally pushed aside our societal obligations and planned what would become one of the best Saturdays of my life.

Becca and I walked down to the beach as the sun rose over the water. There was no satire in the silhouette of friendship we formed against the ocean, yet I felt that swimming was a Vonnegut-worthy way to begin our day. Sure, he poked fun at society and religion, and even laughed in the face of death, but I think that above all, Vonnegut valued love. And for me, love took the form of that moment. Friendship and swimming fill me with a happiness so complete that it needs no other fuel.

We could have swum all day, but our intellectual pursuits pressed us onward. After a quick snack of fresh mangos we made a pilgrimage to the library, where we checked out, with the exception of Cat’s Cradle, every Vonnegut novel that we had ever read and a few that we hadn’t....