“Back to School!”

            Department stores, stationery outlets, and virtually every other business known to Man have been toting this phrase pretty much since they boxed up their unused graduation merchandise.  And now, it is a reality: summer has (unofficially) ended and the nine-month-long prison sentence…er, window of opportunity…known as the school year is upon us. 

            While a good 75% of each college’s respective community is familiar with their surroundings already, I would like to devote this column to those students who are experiencing college for the first time in their academic careers: the incoming freshmen.  The class of 2011.  The lucky young souls whose lives have yet to be permanently scarred by full-time jobs in modern-day corporate America.

            Nine years ago this September, I was in your shoes, class of 2011.  Yes, the fall of 1998 saw yours truly (me) as a college freshman, struggling to adapt to my new environment.  Sure, the world was a tad different back then: gasoline didn’t cost much more than $1, terms like “9/11” and “Paris Hilton” didn’t exist, and the majority of you were in fourth grade.  Despite the differences in our respective time periods, college was still one heck of a transition from high school.  It’s something that will always remain constant, no matter how much the world may change.  And, if you ask me, there is no better medicine to cure your all-too-common worries than a humorous (to me, anyway) written look at what you’re experiencing.

            I was a commuter during all four years of college. Thus, my educational life’s first noticeable change came on my daily rides to and from school.  Since I didn’t receive my driver’s license until early spring of my senior year of high school (stupid parallel parking), I was accustomed to riding the big yellow school bus to classes each day.  Those of you who did the same know the drill: arise anywhere from a half-hour to an hour earlier than all of your friends who live within walking distance of the school to stand on a street corner somewhere in all kinds of weather conditions.  Ultimately, your oversized carriage will amble up, often later than expected, and slowly herd you off to school, stopping at every last sidewalk tile to pack more students onto the bus.  Naturally, you always got stuck next to the overweight kid with a hygiene problem.   continue >>