Sorry, freshman: what they didn't tell you at orientation
By DAVE JOHNSON | Aug. 25, 2010Dear Freshmen,
Dear Freshmen,
And so, dear readers, here we are. Another summer in Gainesville has come and gone, and it's time we all look back and reflect on how much we've gone through. There's been plenty of things to remember over this past pseudo-semester, like that time ... where ... um ...
Civilizations rise and fall, such is the cycle of human history. There are many things attributing to the downfall of a civilization, such as disease, wars or societal collapse. However, I realized recently that there will be only one thing to bring down modern Western civilization. Dear readers, I have seen the harbinger of the end of time, and it exists among us in startling quantity. Of course, I refer to Four Loko.
Rarely is a man so great that even the legends written about him fail to truly capture the magnificence of his existence. This is one of those situations. This is an especially unique case, however, because the great man I am writing about is not a man. Readers, put on your monocles and be seated in your favorite fireside chair, for I shall chronicle the life and times of my cat, Boots.
I knew this was coming for years. My parents decided to sell the house so they could live closer to the water and their boat (I don’t blame them. Who wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to drink and fish all day with minimal planning and effort?). Once I realized this, every time I came home I acted like it could potentially be the last time I see my house or my hometown of Miami.
If there is one great American rite of passage, it is the road trip. Haphazardly shoving people and belongings into a car and debauching ourselves across state lines is about as American as apple pie baked by underpaid immigrant laborers.
The Fourth of July. It’s possibly the greatest holiday that has ever existed. Some guys signed a piece of paper that brought the United States of America into existence, and more than two centuries later we commemorate that day in the most American way: grilling, getting belligerently drunk and watching things explode. I love July Fourth because I’m a big fan of America. It’s pretty much the best country I’ve ever lived in.
This is not the column I planned on writing this week. If everything had gone like it was supposed to, I'd be recapping my adventures at Bonnaroo. I had my ticket paid for me. My car was just about packed. And then I was reminded that this was the weekend my dad and I were supposed to visit my grandmother. Goodbye, Bonnaroo. Hello, Mishawaka, Indiana.
Those who know me knew this column was inevitable. However, I was not planning on writing it so soon. But something I saw in this very publication a week or two ago raised my ire to such a height that I could not help but offer my commentary on the situation.
Summer is a hard time for sports fans. As the NBA and NHL playoffs come to a close, fans are left trying to subsist off of the meager pickings of summer sports.