Old dog begs for new holiday
By: Riley Kross
Issue date: 9/11/09 Section: Opinions
This past week, I allowed myself a stroll around Furman's tranquil lake as it sat below the silence of a full moon. The night was of an early, fall chill, creating an opportunity this senior in all his aged wisdom was not going to let pass by. Needless to say, I was relaxed.
Then, I was interrupted by some boisterous shenanigans of the freshman class. Like feral hounds beneath the moon, their howls echoed across the lake, diminishing any hope for an agreeable stroll.
In my agitated state, I chuckled sadistically to myself thinking, "better live it up now freshmen." Let's face it. Given the 2012 doomsday prediction, the Mayan civilization has had it out for these 2013 hooligans for centuries - and in my opinion, rightfully so.
Yet, most likely due to the influence of J.M. Barrie, an inner child has condemned my 'seniorness,' my quickness to grow up. How quickly we forget the newborn joys of freshman year. How quickly we let the demands of work eclipse a spirit that holds to the collegiate code of "second star to the right and straight on 'till morning."
And yet, 'seniorness' doesn't just stop at early bedtimes. Seniors are a socially awkward breed with an aged impairment that goes often unnoticed. Let me explain.
Freshmen present the awkwardness of a puppy - big-footed, unstable, and easily distracted by movement and noise. You can watch them stumble around the hallways and into the wrong classrooms, bumping into each other along the way. However, their excitement and friskiness allow them to be social deviants. Who doesn't love a cute puppy?
Seniors present the awkwardness of an old dog making its way under the porch. Buried deep in academic departments, we've grown deaf to sounds other than the hum of library silence. Old dogs can't learn the new tricks of a 90's-born generation. We're blind to the miscellaneous happenings on campus. Most of our friends are long gone. I'm pretty sure the decrepit dogs aren't the first to go at the pound.
So my opinion: Old bones need to dance again. Meet underclassmen. And to those of you, who may not remember a time when you didn't have a computer in your home, please take notice those of us who are too set in our ways.
With this in mind, I propose a first unofficial Hug a Senior Day-- Wednesday, September 16th 2009. Seniors, wear your gray class of 2010 t-shirt. Underclassmen, show us some love.
Then, I was interrupted by some boisterous shenanigans of the freshman class. Like feral hounds beneath the moon, their howls echoed across the lake, diminishing any hope for an agreeable stroll.
In my agitated state, I chuckled sadistically to myself thinking, "better live it up now freshmen." Let's face it. Given the 2012 doomsday prediction, the Mayan civilization has had it out for these 2013 hooligans for centuries - and in my opinion, rightfully so.
Yet, most likely due to the influence of J.M. Barrie, an inner child has condemned my 'seniorness,' my quickness to grow up. How quickly we forget the newborn joys of freshman year. How quickly we let the demands of work eclipse a spirit that holds to the collegiate code of "second star to the right and straight on 'till morning."
And yet, 'seniorness' doesn't just stop at early bedtimes. Seniors are a socially awkward breed with an aged impairment that goes often unnoticed. Let me explain.
Freshmen present the awkwardness of a puppy - big-footed, unstable, and easily distracted by movement and noise. You can watch them stumble around the hallways and into the wrong classrooms, bumping into each other along the way. However, their excitement and friskiness allow them to be social deviants. Who doesn't love a cute puppy?
Seniors present the awkwardness of an old dog making its way under the porch. Buried deep in academic departments, we've grown deaf to sounds other than the hum of library silence. Old dogs can't learn the new tricks of a 90's-born generation. We're blind to the miscellaneous happenings on campus. Most of our friends are long gone. I'm pretty sure the decrepit dogs aren't the first to go at the pound.
So my opinion: Old bones need to dance again. Meet underclassmen. And to those of you, who may not remember a time when you didn't have a computer in your home, please take notice those of us who are too set in our ways.
With this in mind, I propose a first unofficial Hug a Senior Day-- Wednesday, September 16th 2009. Seniors, wear your gray class of 2010 t-shirt. Underclassmen, show us some love.