I wrote this back in September but, as always, I get behind in updating this blog.
Finney is packed like I’ve never seen before. The first few ropes are roped off for alumni and special guests. Students pile into the balcony, readying their cameras and cell phones to take pictures. After all, Ed Helms, one of Oberlin’s most renowned recent alumni is about to take the stage.
The spectacle began with President Krislov walking on stage to presumable introduce Helms. Before Marvin could finish his standard introduction, he and Helms were joined on stage by a Safety and Security officer brandishing a large stick in one hand and a folder of pink slips in the other. Krislov and the officer proceeded with a skit reprimanding Helms for fines he’d supposedly incurred before graduating in ’96.
13 years later, Helms is the cool guy, despite admitting to his childhood aspirations of becoming a professional baton twirler and owning a Yanni album. Helms spun tales of his older brother’s friends beating him up during a birthday party and how his best memories of Oberlin involve him sitting on Tank’s porch swing during thunderstorms. And, Helms delighted the audience with each word he spoke. His charm and effortless manner made even the mundane topics more interesting. He might have been speaking about student hygiene and, true, at one point he actually was.
“Why do co-ops smell so bad,” he posed. There’s that “weird garlicy funk”. Helms, himself, admitted to being a resident of Tank for two years. He has a soft spot for Dascomb chicken patties. He’s still not over being given the “outside room” during his year in South. Oh, and unlike a majority of Obies – he likes sports.
“We really messed up in the mascot department. It was a huge fuckup,” he explained. “Our motto here is learning and labor both of which suck… [Our mascot] here is a guy with wheat strapped to his back. What’s the fun part? It’s work.”
The nerdiness of Oberlin, as he calls it, is what sets the student body apart from so many others. It’s “why we’re not in the top 10 of Playboy Magazine’s Top Party Schools.”
Everything Helms touches is magic to the audience. Even when he strolls over to the piano onstage admitting it has “always been kind of a dream of mine to play a piano on stage.” He ponders, “What is worthy of playing on this Steinwick Piano” and an audience member shouts out Freebird.
“Freebird’s crossed my mind,” he replies before starting on a song from The Hangover. He follows it up with Elton John, who he maintains sounds like he has a frog in his throat. “He literally sounds like he has an actual frog in his throat that is doing all the singing and Elton is just mouthing the words.”
The crowd loves it – Helms, the piano, the singing. The even enjoyed his second performance – a reunion with his bandmate from Weedkiller, his band while in school. They’re joined by another performer and current student, Erin Lobb.
“I feel judged by all you Connies with your perfect pitch and judgmental glares.” Though, if the Connies did judge him, no one noticed. Bluegrass poured into every corner of the chapel. The girl beside me whispers, “You know at any other school they’d be the biggest losers but here they’re kind of cool.”
After thirty minutes of banjos and bluegrass, Helms and his partners are treated to wild applause. He returns to speaking, sandwiching stories from his youth with nerdy facts about his day to day life. The crew, for instance submitted “The Hangover” to the Oscar committee.
He embarrassingly admits that the laughter he received after performing a baton solo for his older brother has been “unmatched in his entire career as a professional comedian.” The aftermath of this incident and his father’s words “Edward, let me tell you something. You have a gift, It really looks like you took professional lessons. Never do it again” made him stray away from his goal of becoming a famous baton twirler like Rodney Peppercorn.
“The question is should you follow your dreams and the answer is of course not,” he jokes later on. “If I can embark anything on you – if you want to do something and someone says no – do it anyway.”
“For me it wasn’t even theater – it was comedy and just acting like a huge jackass.” And that, is what makes Helms such a favorite among students. His sincerity and humility, even when discussing how he rappelled down the side of Peters.
