I’m wrapping up these “Oh God, I’m old and dying” blogs, but one that hit me this weekend was that half my life ago, I was in college. When you turn 30 and think this, it doesn’t matter because being 15 sucks all the eggs. You can’t drive, you’re awkward as a loud fart in public, and you generally have no idea about anything. College, though? WTF TIME, GET OFF MY NUTS.
Twenty years ago, I was a sophomore who had “retired” from football living with a “retired” soccer player. By “retired”, I mean we found out we liked Busch Light and Marlboros more than concussions and running drills. That guy, Camp, would eventually be the one that got me into stand-up comedy in 2007. I lived in a house with 33 other guys and we had theme parties about every 2.5 days. The one below was “Pimps and Prostitutes” hosted by the XAN sorority.
I had to reevaluate my entire diet thanks to beer having calories and a house cook that soaked everything in 4 pounds of buttery cooking grease called Whorl. I was obnoxious, arrogant and opinionated about things that probably no one on earth cared about – more even than now! Clinton was president and being investigated for the Lewinsky affair. Horrible blow job jokes were all the rage on late night TV. The internet was taking off and we were sharing music on Napster. Music sucked then, so thanks for nothing, and the biggest movies were There’s Something About Mary and Armageddon. That was the age of my life, that if I see someone from then, I could probably talk to them for an hour (average otherwise, about 14 seconds).
My room was the size of a walk in closet and I was directly across from a community bathroom with no locks or stalls and two 55 gallon trash cans that smelled like vomit and old yeast. My room smelled like Febreeze on a good day and smoke the other six days. I had a Pantera flag and Jenny McCarthy poster (non-vaccinated, of course) and a haphazard arrangement of old furniture in various states of decline. I had a Playstation that only worked when you turned it upside down I bought for $50 and a Nintendo that worked on a good day. Our room was usually blaring Corey Hart or John Denver (Camp’s choice), Down or Anthrax (my choice) or Iron Maiden (mutual).
I shot pool a lot and was on the back deck almost every day overlooking the volleyball court and woods unless it was raining or snowing. Everyone I knew had a nickname, usually mean, and sometimes so mean they didn’t know what it was. Mine was Booger or Bear, in case you were wondering. Not that kind of bear, by the way. I had to walk uphill both ways everywhere I went (thanks Muskingum). I remember way more than I thought I would from classes. I finally threw away my beer bong several years ago and I wish I hadn’t. At any point back then, I had two parties to go to, if not more and the rare times I didn’t, I would start one.
I sometimes hear people say they wish they could go back, but if I did I would probably die, so I’m cool with just remembering what I can from then. It’s a time that sometimes feels like 20 years and when I run into someone from then feels like 20 days ago. It’s a time that makes me realize I am a cockroach of a human, because if I could survive that house (I had glass in my feet from broken bottles for years after college), I cannot be killed by external environmental factors. It was a time when I was maybe the most unlikeable I’ll ever be and had more friends than at any other time. Maybe this upcoming weekend, I’ll grab a 30 pack and warm up my heel toe and donkey kicks for old times sake. Then again, I’ll probably throw my back out. OK, maybe just a shot of Whorl and I’ll smell an old trash can outside a bar on campus.