I visited my old college stomping grounds in Duluth, MN and Superior, WI last weekend. I hadn't visited in years, and I have to say, seeing old friends is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it's great to catch up with old pals (and ask what others are doing, in a vain attempt to find someone who's more of a failure than you), but seeing college buddies also makes you feel a little older. It's only been three and a half years since I graduated from college, but everyone I know has aged in small ways, reminding me that I also probably look and act older, even if I don't realize it.
At the age of 26, I'm in one of the better periods of life. For a single person, being in your mid-20s brings the perfect mix of freedom, decent cash flow, and new experiences. Unfortunately, there's nowhere better than college towns for making anyone older than 21 feel ancient. Duluth and Superior's college students, of which there are an overwhelming amount, are always ready to laugh at anyone who mentions they were around when Stargate, a local dance club, first opened in the late-1990s.
That's exactly what happened Friday night, when I hung out with my friend Nikki's brother, Joe. He's a college student at the University of Minnesota-Duluth, and I wasn't sure how well I would fit in. My cause wasn't helped by the fact that it was an uneventful night with little drinking going on. When college students are drunk, they'll accept anyone: a disillusioned humor columnist who graduated in 2001, a random stranger, or even a mentally retarded hobo trying to bum cigarettes. But when college students are sober, they start asking questions. I'm proud to say I held up pretty well, at least until one of the girls in the group asked me how old I was.
Girl: "Oh, you know Jojo's sister? Cool. So, do you go to school at UMD too?"
Me: "No, I graduated from a different college about four years ago."
Girl: "Wow, yeah . . . that's really old. So, um, why are you hanging around here?"
Me: "Not much for subtlety, are you?"
Sweet Jesus on holy ghost toast, could the girl had given a worse reaction? Why didn't she just make a barfing noise and ask why I wasn't wearing velcro-strapped orthopedic shoes? I realize 26 seems old to people who are still in school, but couldn't she have at least been polite enough to keep her eyes from bulging out of her head?
Luckily, booze heals all wounds, and I felt young again on Saturday night. After sampling a few beers at the renowned Fitger's Brewery in Duluth, I traveled across the state line to Superior, which has its own brewery called Twin Ports. There I found three buddies from college who still live in the area. One of them mentioned how he had spent a year in Iraq, and now wasn't really sure what he wanted to do. The other two discussed how their prestigious communicating arts degrees had also gotten them jobs that didn't really require a degree at all. I talked about my quick rise as a newspaper reporter, and my recent fall to a job as a temporary construction laborer.
Failure is a great bonding tool, and it loosened us up almost as well as the multiple mugs of potent brewery beer. Soon it was like old times again. The bartender shouted last call, we all grimaced and pounded what we had left, and then my friend Aaron and I limped drunkenly through the streets of Superior in search of someone, anyone, to drink with. We walked into a random party, quickly realizing we were the only caucasian people in attendance. The two of us glowed like a night light, so we left and found an after bar party that had about eight people, five of them middle-aged. We left this party almost as quickly, but not before stealing four Old Style beers from the fridge.
The rest of the night was spent stumbling through the streets, drinking our stolen beers and trying to hide them whenever a car passed. When the evening finally ended at 4 am, I could have sworn I was still a college student. The scene folded out just as it had four years before. Aaron pounded on our friend Donny's door, shouting until he was allowed inside, and I was left to walk home down the side streets, keeping myself from appearing disorderly by stopping and pretending to talk on my cellphone whenever a police car passed.
Was my weekend back "home" in Duluth and Superior worthwhile? Absolutely. I was able to return to all my favorite hangouts and see a lot of old friends. In a world where many of the "acquaintances" we run into are people we want to avoid, it was great to catch up with people who I actually cared about. Did the experience also teach me a few things about myself? Definitely. It was great to be back, but at the same time, I'm glad I moved on. I'm the type of person where if I don't keep moving and changing my surroundings, I'm bound to get into a rut and lose focus on what I'd like to do in this life.
Going to my old hangouts was fun, but it also felt a little stale. It was a little too easy to get comfortable. While that works great for some people, it scared me a little. I want to be able to try living everywhere, so I can see everything. But I guess we're all different. Some of us fawn over the little house with the white picket fence, and some of us run away from it screaming.
