Life is funny sometimes. Especially when a seemingly unimportant event conveniently correlates with a major life change.
You see, my first appearance on the opinion page â€“â€“ this column, as myself, representing my own ideas â€“â€“ will also be my last.
Itâ€™s interesting that in my three or so years at Student Media Iâ€™ve been a radio DJ, an editor and writer for several desks, a videographer and photographer. But Iâ€™ve never written a serious column.
In fact, as a Ram Iâ€™ve done a lot of things. Iâ€™ve loved. Iâ€™ve lost. Iâ€™ve seen lifelong friends come and go. Iâ€™ve pulled all-nighters many times. Iâ€™ve been too drunk on occasion.
Heck, Iâ€™ve nearly completed that â€œ101 Things to Do Before You Graduateâ€ list.
But this week should be the last of me doing things at CSU. If all goes to plan, I should be walking out of Moby Arena Saturday a college graduate â€“â€“ a major life change.
The seemingly unimportant event: Just about a week ago the unofficial Collegian home-away-from-home, a lowly dump of a college house across Laurel from Parmelee Hall, was flattened to the ground â€“â€“ demolished via bulldozer.
The aptly named â€œCottage of Hottageâ€ hosted a variety of fun, and sometimes questionable, gatherings. To those who may be implicated in such activities: Donâ€™t worry. Names will not be named.
But the Cottage was more than a great place to party, minus the sticky floors and endless supply of dog hair. It was special. It was a myth. A legend.
The Cottage was where I bonded with the people I call lifelong friends. Itâ€™s the place Iâ€™ll tell my grandkids about â€¦ when theyâ€™re adults.
It was the place where memories were created. Like waking up hung over to watch our first black presidentâ€™s inauguration. Or where a crazed woman hit me in the face with her construction helmet on Halloween. Or where Southern Comfort and snow days donâ€™t really mix.
Actually, more memories were probably lost there than made, but whoâ€™s counting?
The Cottage embodied a large chunk of my college experience. Now itâ€™s an empty lot â€“â€“ gone much like Iâ€™ll soon be.
But that lot wonâ€™t stay vacant forever. Iâ€™m sure some new fancy house, restaurant or college housing units will go up. New memories will be formed. New experience will be had.
They will not be mine, and Iâ€™ve come to terms with that.
You see, I have great hindsight vision â€“â€“ 20/20 in fact. I was that homesick freshmen who missed all his high school buddies.
But college life changed me. Iâ€™m more outgoing, more hopeful for new experiences. Talking to girls is still a problem, but I donâ€™t see that ever changing.
Much thanks to all my friends, my family and all you loyal readers. Without you I wouldnâ€™t be the new person I am today. My heart warms with every nice comment or remark. You make me feel special.
But most of all Iâ€™m proud to have, in some sick way, served you all during my time at Student Media. It was a pleasure blabbing each week for you. I will miss you all.
And as the tidal wave of the â€œreal worldâ€ barrels down on this small Fort Collins town, I look back fondly on college as probably the best time of my life.
But I also welcome the cleansing waters to take me onto my next adventure. I mean, Iâ€™ll always have memories to look back on. And friends to look back on them with me.
So much like the empty lot across Laurel from campus waiting to its next occupants, I say, â€œBring it on bulldozer.â€
Letâ€™s see what Iâ€™ve got in store next.
Multimedia Editor Johnny Hart is a graduating senior journalism major. Letters and feedback can be sent to firstname.lastname@example.org.