Monday, June 9, 2003

Those who stand on the cusp of change, empathize with me tonight. 13 more stops, gentle reader, and college ends for me. Now, don’t get me wrong. Although I’ve a serviceable memory, nostalgia was never one of my fancies. A few weeks, a month down the road, I will have moved on; no tear-stained yearbook, no sonorous Muzak in the background, just business–evil, media conglomerate business, natch–as usual.

For an evening, though, let us exorcise the CEO’s within and talk mom-and-pop store business. And I want to ask you this question: If you were allowed only ten characters to describe the past four years, what would they be? This resonates with the collegiate crowd, obviously, but it should hold some significance for everyone.

Your answer, dear reader? “Fulfilling.” “Broken,” but “good.” “Wasted.” “Nonpareil.”

When pressed for the reason behind your answer, you might reply, “People.” I know this to be true, in fact, simply from listening. So people, conundrums terrible and striking, dull and sublime, will partly shape your answer.

My own answer? Part of it would consist of that haunting r-word, sure, but part of it would also consist of that warm, inviting h-word. You didn’t think I’d spell it out for you, did you? Where would the fun be? Besides, it’s no doozy, let me assure you.