College Life Isn't Quite What It Used To Be

As appeard in the Albuquerque Journal, Rio Rancho section Saturday, March 26, 2011

I was looking through some boxes in the garage the other day and getting caught up in old photographs for way longer than I had planned. You know how that goes, five minutes turns into half an hour, which turns into two hours, which makes you late for getting dinner on the table.

As I was going through a box of old letters and postcards, I came across a letter my dad wrote to me in March of 1979. It was my senior year in high school and we had been discussing colleges for the coming fall.

"Did you get the information I sent you on Ohio State," said the letter. "I still haven't received your application to Ohio University that you said you mailed. Are you sure you mailed it?"

I couldn't believe I still had the letter, written more than 30 years ago to a high school senior getting ready to take the next big step in life. I remember the time well, the anxiety of where I would go to college that fall. And my dad, who made sure I was going to college even when I insisted that a job at the mall would be just as fulfilling.

The timing couldn't have been better, as now it is my turn to push my high school senior out of the nest and into her next adventure in life.

High school seniors across the country are on pins and needles right now, awaiting word from the many colleges and universities they've applied to, hoping for that one magical word, "WELCOME."

Last week my daughter, her girlfriend and I went down to University of New Mexico and took the campus tour for potential students. After a short slide show and very informative grad student speaker, we all hopped on the little red trolley and headed for the main campus.

With each building we passed, I could see the anxiety in their faces slowly turn to enthusiasm as the girls began to see that this new experience in front of them just might be doable. But not living with a stranger in a tiny dorm room; that obstacle needed more reassurance.

"Why can't we just get an apartment together?" they asked.

"Because an apartment costs much more than living on campus. Besides, you need to get the full college experience, and that includes dorm living, cafeteria food, learning to do everything for yourself and bonding with other freshmen who don't have a clue either," I said.

My niece will be starting her junior year at the University of Colorado at Boulder this fall. She told my brother she was done with the sorority house and wanted to get an apartment for next year. They have actually been considering establishing residency in Colorado so as to avoid paying the exorbitant out-of-state tuition, so the idea wasn't so off the wall to my brother.

"That sounds good, honey," said my brother. "We can get back early next year and go to the used furniture store."

"Used furniture?" said my niece, in shock. "I am not buying used furniture. That's what I have now."

Whatever happened to milk crate book cases and wooden utility spools for coffee tables? Not anymore. Just add it to the list with books, clothing, food, and all the other expenses involved when it comes to college.

Meanwhile, how much did you say tuition was?

Quote of the Week: "College is the best time of your life. When else are your parents going to spend several thousand dollars a year just for you to go to a strange town and get drunk every night?" — David Wood

Too Much of a Green Thing Can Backfire

As appeared in the Albuqueque Journal Rio Rancho section Saturday, March 12, 2011


"I hope there's not a corned beef in that bag," said my eldest daughter last week as I was carrying in the first load of groceries from the car.

"Of course there is, honey," I said, knowing full well that even the smell of the celebratory roast is enough to evoke her gag reflex.

"I also bought the cabbage, carrots and potatoes; it's St. Patrick's Day next week," I twinkled. I gave up on the "just one bite" years ago when I knew it was more than a casual dislike with her, as is pot roast.

St. Patrick's Day brings many tricks and innocent pranks on the children in your house; just ask mine, who have lived through everything from green milk at breakfast to green mashed potatoes at dinner.

Green milk and mashed potatoes, yes, I may go overboard on this holiday, but with names like Cochran, Smalley and Rafferty in my family tree, and my mother calling me Guinevere (a Welsh variant of Jennifer) my entire childhood, the holiday is rather hard to ignore. Or maybe I use it as an excuse to celebrate.

One of the coldest St. Patty's days I've ever spent was down in the Flats of Cleveland. The name reflects its low topography on the banks of the Cuyahoga River, and in mid-March you can bet the breezes weren't balmy. Fagan's, a local Irish pub near the water, was the place to be on St. Patrick's Day in the early '80s. And although the winds off the lake were enough to make your teeth rattle, the company inside was warm enough to make up for it.

When my daughters were little, St. Patrick's Day was a day of fun and mischief in our house. They woke up one year to the amazement of green painted fingernails on their little hands. Once out of bed, they followed a trail of lucky pennies out of their rooms and down the stairs to the kitchen where green shamrock-shaped pancakes awaited them.

The innocent pranks left an indelible mark on my little one, though, for the following year she remembered the little elf's antics and would not go to sleep in her own bed for fear of the "green leprechaun man" who would be coming into her room that night. Note to mommies: Too much of a good thing can backfire.

Don't forget to set your clocks ahead one hour tonight. It will take us all at least a week to recover from the time change. At least it's another step bringing us closer to spring.

Quote of the Week: "May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face; the rains fall soft upon your fields, and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand." — traditional Gaelic blessing

Too Much of a Green Thing Can Backfire

As appeared in the Albuqueque Journal Rio Rancho section Saturday, March 12, 2011


"I hope there's not a corned beef in that bag," said my eldest daughter last week as I was carrying in the first load of groceries from the car.

"Of course there is, honey," I said, knowing full well that even the smell of the celebratory roast is enough to evoke her gag reflex.

"I also bought the cabbage, carrots and potatoes; it's St. Patrick's Day next week," I twinkled. I gave up on the "just one bite" years ago when I knew it was more than a casual dislike with her, as is pot roast.

St. Patrick's Day brings many tricks and innocent pranks on the children in your house; just ask mine, who have lived through everything from green milk at breakfast to green mashed potatoes at dinner.

Green milk and mashed potatoes, yes, I may go overboard on this holiday, but with names like Cochran, Smalley and Rafferty in my family tree, and my mother calling me Guinevere (a Welsh variant of Jennifer) my entire childhood, the holiday is rather hard to ignore. Or maybe I use it as an excuse to celebrate.

One of the coldest St. Patty's days I've ever spent was down in the Flats of Cleveland. The name reflects its low topography on the banks of the Cuyahoga River, and in mid-March you can bet the breezes weren't balmy. Fagan's, a local Irish pub near the water, was the place to be on St. Patrick's Day in the early '80s. And although the winds off the lake were enough to make your teeth rattle, the company inside was warm enough to make up for it.

When my daughters were little, St. Patrick's Day was a day of fun and mischief in our house. They woke up one year to the amazement of green painted fingernails on their little hands. Once out of bed, they followed a trail of lucky pennies out of their rooms and down the stairs to the kitchen where green shamrock-shaped pancakes awaited them.

The innocent pranks left an indelible mark on my little one, though, for the following year she remembered the little elf's antics and would not go to sleep in her own bed for fear of the "green leprechaun man" who would be coming into her room that night. Note to mommies: Too much of a good thing can backfire.

Don't forget to set your clocks ahead one hour tonight. It will take us all at least a week to recover from the time change. At least it's another step bringing us closer to spring.

Quote of the Week: "May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face; the rains fall soft upon your fields, and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand." — traditional Gaelic blessing