The Finale
Written March 31, 2003

So here we are at the end of another school year and I’m writing my last column, still trying to recover from the weekend and skipping all of my day’s classes as per usual. There’s something to be said about the atmosphere around WLU these days; it’s an interesting blend of eager anticipation for the summer that seems mere milliseconds away and grim preparation for the final “Oh sweet Jesus, I have four exams in two days, my course preregistration is a mess and I have somehow contracted severe herpes!” hurdle of academia. We’re almost done and the light at the end of the tunnel is blinding.

For many that light turns out to be a screaming train that rams into them at 80 kph en route to Summersville which is 500 kilometres away, and the confused student is left to figure out whether the train will make it on time if wind velocity is a factor and perhaps wonder if they are dead as a result of massive collision trauma. Hopefully not, as the train was merely a clumsy instrument of analogy, but summer indeed tends to be the catalyst for some serious reality checks amongst university kids.

For starters, we will no longer be the super-privileged future of Western civilization for the duration of the next few months. There’s a decidedly depressing undertone that accompanies the first time you realize that your education is completely useless as you hand golf clubs to some snooty rich bastard, food to some hip-jive punk-ass kid, or metal pieces to some particularly unfriendly small-parts manufacturing machine. Summer employment is a harsh reminder that we aren’t in charge quite yet, but at least we won’t be so poor that Mr. Noodle is a daily breakfast.

Social life? Turn that shit upside down. If you’re going home for the summer, you probably live in a tiny town with a single bar aptly named “The Saucy Midwife” that supports a nightlife reminiscent of colonial Virginia. Barring this, you reside in Toronto where the clubs are so pricy that Mr. Noodle will look like gourmet pasta by the time you crawl back to Waterloo. Staying here in the ‘Loo during the school off-season isn’t exactly terrible, but bar nights are generally different and you’ll have to completely relearn where the sweet spots are. The horror!

Relationships also change drastically as routine is temporarily disrupted and everyone goes their separate ways for a while. You’ll be reminded why high school wasn’t as great as you remember and realize that it’s possible to change an incredible amount in the space of a single year while under the influence of the University Incubator©. Parents may become an influential factor again as they enforce their traditional restrictions, requesting that you be home at midnight despite the fact that you considered sunrise an adequate conclusion to each day at school. Tequila bottles as windowsill decoration are no longer an option.

Don’t get me wrong, summer is far from a horror to be dreaded and in fact is usually loaded with good times, road trips and much schlocking on the weekends in between work shifts. For once you’re accumulating money rather than watch it steadily slip between your fingers, and the drastic change of pace and lifestyle is initially refreshing. Your life is full of people and places that bleed nostalgia and reconnect you with your past. Stress levels are at a record low.

But before you know it, you’ll start to miss this place. It’ll creep under your skin, reminding you of the good times you had volunteering, partying, participating and pushing the limits of your intelligence and emotional stamina. The Concourse will exist in your mind as a half-remembered dream and all the people you used to talk to there will be as ghosts from the past, their memories barely preserved by occasional MSN conversations and hurried phone calls.

The urge for challenge, independence and personal growth which initially drove you to choose a university education will resurface and you will realize that, somehow, this place became your life and ‘going home’ is just a vacation, a temporary reprise. You will be back, ready to once again weather the experiences that will inevitably and irrevocably define your future.

See you in September kids.

This was my last column of the year. I was feeling particularly nostalgic at the time and can still remember the song I was listening to: Overboard, by the Rosenburgs. It's actually the song that plays at the end of the very last episode of Undergrads (an excellent cartoon that MTV summarily executed along with all of their other good content...but I digress). Anyways, this is another favourite of mine because as horrible as I am, I still have a weak spot for sappy moments.