All good things have to come to an end, don’t they?
I have been dreading this column for ages. Something about jamming four years of nostalgic memories into this small space, which got smaller when we started to advertise for replacements.
My first idea for this column was to thank everyone who helped me learn about myself these last four years like: The Academy, Bill and Patty Griffith, Dave Larimer, Andy Altman, Dan Mason, Dave Ellenbogen, Steve Bernauer, Tasmine Engrissei, Stiv Fleishman, Jonathan Chaves, David DeGrazia, Lidia, SJT, Rodney Johnson, Tracey Davis, Candice Cook, John Sesta, Jeff Baxter, Q and David Petron.
But then, a certain university president, we’ll call him “SJT” (toprotect his true identity) said to me, “You’re not going to do one of those sappy, boring columns that The Hatchet staff does every year thanking each other, are you?”
Maybe I should reveal who the people I’ve been talking about all year are. Steve Bernauer is “my friend Steve,” Beth Stevens is “my friend Beth.” I probably should say that the idiot professor in the criminal justice department is Ron Weitzer, but that wouldn’t be nice.
I thought about writing some sage advice to the masses that I will soon leave behind, so I went to the last “last” lecture of the year. His lecture was modestly titled: “How to know everything and live forever.”
After listening, I didn’t know how to do either, so I was screwed on my own sage advice.
So I reviewed sage advice from more famous people, basically, memorable lines from movies I’ve seen. How are these: Dean Wormer, Animal House: “Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son” or Paulie in Rocky IV: “I’m the unsilent majority, punk!” Or the best of them all, Jake Blues in The Blues Brothers: “I want four fried chickens and a coke.”
I should thank my editor at The Hatchet, Helder Gil, who actually wrote my column (along with the rest of the editorial staff) when my friend Richard Van Falk died. In all seriousness, Helder is a good guy and a great editor who should be given much more credit than he is.
There’s a lot of things that I will miss about George WashingtonUniversity and Washington. George Michael’s Sports machine. Leo’s Deli. Roses for three dollars a dozen. Harris and the Predictor on the radio. DKNY pants. Maria at the taco place in J Street. Jerry Springer two times a day. When people stop me on the street and say “Hey, aren’t you that Hatchet guy?”
I will leave GW with one piece of advice for the future. Stop taking yourselves so damn seriously. There is nothing that happens here that is a matter of life and death. Laugh more, or else you’ll hate everything around you pretty soon.
I leave GW with the words of Billy Joel, for you to remember me by:
“There’s a place in the world for the angry young man with his working class ties and his radical plans, he refuses to bend, he refuses to crawl, and he’s always at home with his back to the wall. He’s proud of the scars and he’s proud of the battles he’s lost and he struggles and bleeds as he hangs on the cross.
Give a moment or two to the angry young man, with his foot in his mouth and his head in the sand, he’s been stabbed in the back and he’s been misunderstood, but it’s a comfort to know his intentions are good.”
I believe that I’ve past the stage of righteous rage, I’ve found that just surviving is a noble fight. I once believed in causes too, I had my pointless point of view, and life goes on no matter who’s wrong or right.