f^ive college life to the fullest
eal world grows boring for those who cherished college life
Long about this time every year, it
cgins sinking into certain heads
round this campus that this is the last
ime for everything: the last college
tarty, the last of the midnight runs to
ast-food joints, the last time to get
crewed selling back books and (mer
:ifullyj| the last of the finals.
The initial reaction is one of eu
phoria. Take it from someone who’s
gone through it twice — it’ll wear off
ind inside of a year you’ll be begging
lo come back.
My senior year in college was a
bittersweet experience. As I began
that year, back in the fall of ’85, an air
of magic hung over the campus. Any
thing could happen, I told myself.
Plenty did, too. I lost my father to
cancer, saw my grades go lo hell and
destroyed more than a few brain cells
from an unbelievable amount of alco
hol consumption. I think there arc
also a few women who go catatonic at
the mention of my name.
So it wasn’t what I planned. Life
never is—which is a lesson you have
to leam before you graduate. That
aside, I don’t think I ever had a better
lime in my life, though I believed I
wanted to curl up and die sometimes.
Trying to talk with a friend about
quantum physics at midnight with a
12-pack under my belt — that was
fun. Or just silting out by the lake on
a warm April evening at sunset, in the
back seal of my new Jeep with the top
off— mention “senior year” and these
images pop into mind.
Let a song by Heart, David and
David, Nu Shoo/., Bob Scgcr, Scritti
Polilti or the Go-Gos come over the
radio and it’s a lime machine.
It was a bit different for my senior
year in law school. 1 was 70 pounds
(My senior year of college) wasn’t what I planned.
Life never is — which is a lesson you have to learn
before you graduate. That aside, I don’t think I ever
had a better time in my life, though I believed /
wanted to curl up and die sometimes.
lighter and sober. This time, though,
it was the real thing — after I gradu
ated, no more school. It was the real
world now, wailing for me and all that
wonderful legal training I'd had ham
mered into me.
Somewhere along the line, though,
the fun went out of it all. The music
started sounding worse. Weekends
got duller. It may be that the body
releases some hormone when you’re
25 that tells you to grow up. You
suddenly have no urge to drink your
self blind at every turn.
Or it may have been that my best
friend got married the first week of
my thiid year in law school. It told my
little band of brothers that we weren’t
kids any longer. One of us had be
come a responsible adult. It didn’t
stop us from acting like drunken fools
at the reception, though.
The sense of ioy was gone when
graduation roiled around. There was
not happiness — only a grim, weary
satisfaction that I had survived. I imag
inepeople who survived Buchenwald
ana Auschwitz felt the same — all
passion spent, staring out at the world
with blank, haunted eyes. Perhaps
seven years straight is beyond the
perm issiblc lim its of hu man tolerance
for higher education.
Once I got out and began working
at a dreary job in a dreary western
Kansas law office, it wasn’t long be
fore I wanted back in. It was madden
ing. I couldn’t believe it. I'd spent
three years trying to get out of that
damned place, and now I wanted back
in? No one ever told me about this —
not that I would have believed them at
the time.
It’s probably loo late to give any
advice to those graduating in a couple
of weeks, so this might be more apro
pos to the class of ’94 (of which I will
be one). Enjoy every minute as if it
were your last, because come May it
will be. Do absolutely everything you
wanted to, like sec Mall “Guitar”
Murphy at the Zoo, or make out on top
of one of the sculptures by Sheldon at
3 a.m. Indulge — hell, overindulge if
you want.
' r' 1 *
. Live by my motto—“No regrets.”
Don’t look back in 10 years ant say,
‘If I had...Live it now. It sounds
trite, and hardly original, but h serves
well.
Sam Kcpfldd k not a professional stu
dent, even though he has been through two
graduation ceremonies and can look forward
to at least two more.
' The Watering Hale I
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