Gone, just like that: Feb. 20

Completely out of the blue, I learned the other day that the college I attended has ceased to exist.

It’s the place where I learned so much (and not just in the classroom), made amazing friends made enough memories to last multiple lifetimes (seriously, tons of them) and generally just did a ton of growing up.

From a place I never imagined going to because I literally hadn’t heard of it to a seminal part of my life … up to and including being the basis of one of my Twitter handles and personal email addresses … gone.

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Friendship in the cards

My guys were very creative in getting me gifts for my college graduation.

There was the gift of … let’s say dubious origin, so the less said about that, the better.

There was the teal Florida Marlins baseball cap, back before they were the Miami Marlins and at least the teal was somewhat fashionable.

And there was the Doug Gilmour trading card.

Even if I don’t go back, I’ll always be tempted

It comes every year, whether in the mail, on social media or both, and it’s tempting every year.

It’s from my alma mater, Utica College, inviting me to the annual Homecoming weekend.

This year’s is a big one, too, and not just because it was cancelled last year for the obvious reason. It’s also celebrating the college’s 75th anniversary.

The week gone by — Dec. 20

When I first went to college, I met a girl.

No, this isn’t one of those stories, although we got along well for a time, and she was pretty cute if I remember correctly.

We eventually wound up in different circles, and I think it just sort of happened, although it didn’t help that I …

Lessons in Loss: Y

“Sometimes loss is part of growing into the person we have become, sometimes it leaves us feeling like something’s fundamentally missing, sometimes we can’t remember what it was like before we lost whatever it was.”

That’s part of how one of my best blogging buddies, Pea Green over at Smelly Socks and Garden Peas, introduced her series called “Lessons in Loss.” (The photo above is her logo for the series.)

She asked several of her favorite bloggers to take part, and I’m happy to say that not only am I one of them, I’m kicking off the series!

It’s also my first guest post, and it’s about how losing a letter helped symbolize the process of growing up. Please go check it out, and if you like it, be sure to let her know. (Read her other stuff, too. It’s really good!)

The week gone by — Oct. 25

Close to 25 years after getting my master’s degree, I am a college student again.

Well, not exactly. It’s not like I’m sitting in a classroom (or on a Zoom call) with students young enough to be my children.

The “lecture hall,” so to speak, is my downstairs desk.

All about the details

The president of my alma mater recently sent an update on the school’s reopening, and it’s so far … so good.

According to the report, after a week’s worth of classes, there had only been four positive COVID-19 tests, and two of those had been “safely resolved.”

Contrast that with another local college, where they’ve already suspended in-person classes for two weeks, and the governor has sent a “SWAT team” to help deal with the situation.

Good solutions never die

“Hey, Mr. Writer Man.”

Suzi’s a good writer, but I’m generally considered the writer of the house for both personal (like what you’re reading here) and professional reasons.

So when she had a question about the project she was working on, she yelled down to me from our upstairs computer.

Figuring out a solution

Since it’s that time of year, a couple days ago my Facebook Memories were filled with posts about attending Suzi’s reunion weekend at Mount Holyoke College, including a couple funny moments from 2013.

The thing about Mount Holyoke being a women’s college is that while the public buildings have men’s and women’s bathrooms, the dorms only have women’s rooms.

After all, only women live there.

Not so wild, not so crazy, not so bad

We were bored in the way that college kids with way too much energy way too late at night and not much going on can be, so we decided to do something about it.

Although there were more than us that could even comfortably fit into the station wagon Kit was driving, we piled in and drove to the local casino.

Not so much to gamble, mind you, but to … walk around.