Pioneer Park: Another APUSH Essay

This one came from the heart, so if my teacher rejects it, I will cry hard.
Also probably the best piece I've written concerning running so... take it or leave it. I'm turning it in.

I spent the past 10 months of my life running furiously up and down Hobson Road and Washington Street, unabashedly bloodying the sidewalks, j-walking without looking both ways, and precipitating sweat with every step. In anger and impatience, I have ripped leaves and branches from the very trees that selflessly provide every passerby with shade, and I have definitely killed a few innocent gnats either by accidental swallows or frustrated swats and slaps (which made more contact with my own face than the bugs…). I would never regret any of these exhilarating experiences, but my research for this assignment has made me more conscious of where exactly in Pioneer Park I choose to dirty with my well-practiced saliva spitting skills.

The Park District boasts of a .66 mile trail on its website, but that little stretch of paved road can barely represent 26 acres of overgrown weeds, open fields, cuddly picnic tables, and the centerpiece of Naperville, the DuPage River. A web of narrow, dirt paths sprawls across the small forests of Burr Oak trees. Staying too long in one spot often results in rashes of bug bites, and with some bad luck and aloofness, moving too quickly can result in serious head injuries from low lying fallen tree trunks. The woodchips that I crush and the pebbles over which I trip could lie atop the very remnants of Bailey Hobson’s grist mill. Even though native species are just being reintroduced to the woods as part of a restoration project, the centuries-old river still calmly brushes by the banks for all amateur fishermen to enjoy.

The river, as expected from almost any civilization, is the foundation of the settlement. When Bailey Hobson established the first permanent home of Naperville in Pioneer Park, he was not looking for legendary peacocks or for black berry trees (although both were fringe benefits). In the 1830s, nothing was more important than a consistent source of water and timber. Hobson found both resources available and built a mill and an inn, thereby commencing the written history of Naperville.

Most of the days in which I pass through Pioneer Park, I spend less time than I should admiring the vanilla sunset draped across the sky and the orange mist sprinkled in the sun rays between the openings of the trees. The great majority of my efforts are put into thinking about not thinking about the soreness in my legs, catching my breath, ruminating the ways of the universe, and psychoanalyzing mankind and whomever I happen to like at the time. But when I do take a step out of myself and fall into the flow of the woods, I see the graceful and stupid deer behind the bushes and feel the heat of the sun beat my smelly, sweat-coated back just long enough, until another tree’s light, drifting branches shield me again. I hear the cicadas’ drone and smell the morning dew glistening on every blade of grass. No wonder Hobson chose to settle here.

Dunkin Donuts: An APUSH Essay

An argument for the importance of donuts and coffee.
I pray that my teacher will accept this.

Some people would argue that America barely runs on Dunkin. When it does, it runs very, very slowly; the term “waddles quickly” seems more appropriate. For me though, a solid 550 calories supplied by one beautiful Chocolate Coconut Cake Donut is fuel for an abnormally fast paced and guilt ridden run. I would love to run so quickly again, but because I had little time and energy to debate the benefits and repercussions of enjoying the sweet 14 grams of fat in my favorite Jelly Filled Donut, I purchased an unsweetened iced coffee for $1.08 in the Dunkin territory, all in the name of this assignment.

Dunkin Donuts claims that its donuts have brought smiles since 1950. Perhaps that is true, but with the gleeful grin plastered on the little boy’s face come a ladle of saturated fat, a shower of sugar, and only an occasional drop of protein. Dunkin’s coffee is what has made and is making true history, and it is making it far faster and far more efficiently than did any general, president, or commander.

Coffee is the American drug but also much, much more. The end to the list of countries that thrive on the production and consumption of coffee is far from the start (but if need be, I can start by listing Mexico, Puerto Rico, Guatemala, Ethiopia, the Ivory Coast…). As America’s largest retailer of coffee-by-the-cup, Dunkin Donuts is stimulating the world to stay awake and urinate unnaturally frequently every single second. 30 cups of coffee are catered by the second in any of the 10083 stores in the world. 2.7 million cups of coffee are making, presumably, at least a million customers more productive and likely to sculpt history than they should be.

In its unwavering, and in fact rising, demand to serve the people, Dunkin has preserved small bundles of happiness for every donut and coffee lover to appreciate. The Dutch have been generally been given credit for introducing the lump of fried cake and naming it the “doughnut,” and indeed, Dunkin has kept the tradition of frying its dough and naming the circular products “donuts.” Accordingly, Dunkin has also made available an assortment of donuts with holes in the center, as first done by Captain Gregory when he impaled a perfectly whole doughnut on his steering wheel. Even better, Dunkin has taken the liberty to vigorously crank out dozens of flavors of donuts, each type more complex than the next (for instance, the Chocolate Frosted Donut to the Chocolate Glazed Cake Donut to the Double Cocoa Kreme Puff Donut). Its menu is a textbook of the donut’s development in 60 years.

I am impressed and disgusted. The coffee I finished drinking long ago was made from perfectly roasted cherry-like beans. The donuts I could smell were freshly deep fried and the service was instantaneous. I have a lot of reservations concerning junk food, but the smooth, swept floors and glistening racks of baked goods (apparently Dunkin has expanded to all breakfast items) almost convince me that dying of a heart attack might be worth the occasional treat.