Memories of 1982-1986

Recently our daughter was suffering one of those 48 hour bugs that kids seem to catch from time to time. This one led to a few hurling incidents. On one particular occasion, Zoe didn’t make it to the bathroom and she puked all over her bed. Mrs. McCullough leaped into action to clean up the mess, but she wasn’t sure how to soak up the lingering – shall we say – aroma. She asked if I had any ideas. Johnny on the spot I went to our kitchen cabinet and grabbed a box of baking soda. After a couple of applications, the gastric perfume was contained. Fortunately, as kids do, she bounced back and is doing fine!

How did I know baking soda would absorb the odor? No, not from watching Martha Stewart, but from past experiences under similar conditions during my college days. It has dawned on me that the majority of my best collegiate memories have to do with things that happened outside of the classroom. Even more specifically, things that happened either as a result or in the vicinity of an alcoholic beverage.

If you put a gun to my head, I couldn’t tell you a thing about my Freshman introductory lit classes or my Senior year Communications law (although after 20+ years in the business, fortunately, I have learned a few things about how not to break the law – but I digress). It’s sad that I can remember how I celebrated my 21st birthday, but I couldn’t tell you what classes I was taking then.

It’s not that I didn’t take my academics seriously, however, in hindsight it was those lessons and experiences outside the classroom that have stayed with me over the years. Professionally, walking into those first jobs with that Syracuse sheepskin was a plus, but it didn’t take long before the lessons learned on the job overrode those learned in the classroom.

If you need a recap of the Twelfth Night, I might not be able to help. If you need a rush party organized, I’m your guy!

(p.s. It’s funny how my grad school GPA was astronomically higher than my undergrad GPA. I wonder if that’s got anything to do with the fact that I was a decade or so older and a good part of the grad school tuition came out of my own pocket, not mom and dad’s! Hmmm?!?)

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