My first week at college – at least what I can remember.

T minus 5. Enough about Scout. Let’s talk about me. And MY first week at college. I went to Fordham University in the Bronx. I arrived in September 1975. I decided that I’d like to stay close to home so that I could visit on weekends. That’s one of the reasons I picked the place. An easy train ride home for the weekend.

But eight weeks before I moved into my dorm, my parents left town. THEY moved away. I don’t think that is how it is supposed to work. But that’s what happened. I tried not to take it personally.

Here’s what else I remember about moving in. I had a trunk, a hot plate and a guitar. I did not have 400 threadcount sheets. I had ‘permanent press’ sheets. I did not pack a single dress. I had my favorite pillow ( I still have that pillow and I have to guard it with my life as Eileen is constantly threatening to throw it away). I had my favorite blankie (that basically rotted and is now gone).

I remember my roommate’s name. Carol Fernandez. She was only my roommate for 2 weeks. In that time, most of the girls on the floor decided they hated their roommates and really liked some other girl on the hall. So in two weeks’ time, we had this massive switch. The kind that Resident Advisors don’t allow anymore.

I remember meeting a woman at the end of the hall. I liked her immediately. Her name was Bea (her name is still Bea). She is in the picture above. Sitting next to me. She also had a guitar. There was a guitar in the picture before I cropped it. Bea said she was going to be a doctor. I said I had no clue what I wanted to do. We played music together. I bet she still plays music. She did become a doctor. She lives in Maine. A really fine person. Probably the best moment of week #1.

The second best moment of week #1 will remind us all of an earlier time. When the legal drinking age was 18. It also reminds me of how my priorities have changed and it reminds me that Scout is about to embark on a journey that will have stops that I want to know nothing about.

I learned that you could trade in your meal ticket at lunch and dinner for cans of beer. I could tell you that I only did this once or twice. But that would not be true. I did this many times. I told myself it was because the food wasn’t very good. But I knew even then that it was just because I was a stupid, immature college freshman.

I think Scout is neither stupid nor immature. I’m glad she won’t be able to trade meal tickets for beer. And I do hope she meets a really fine person that she knows forever.

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