No time! No time!

Been those kinds of days here.

But there's always time to wish snowy_owlet a Happy Birthday:)

(Less'n, of course, the damn site's being DDOS'd again:P)

Bongman returns!

My freshman-year dorm hallway, circa 1977-78, had most of the collection of stereotypes on it. There was "Apples," the Ag major from some rural upstate town who grew up on a farm. "Bippsy," the pre-med from New Jersey. "Goob" and "Link" (as in the missing one), self-selected football player roommates who between them might have generated a measurable IQ.  "Taco" from Rio Piedras, P.R. (we were so politically correct back then).  God only knows what they called me. Yet, near the middle of the wing, and always at the head of the line for controlled substances, was the self-styled "Bongman." He was also known as "the Perfesser," since he would tend to wax academic after a goodly number of hits before and during all-night games of Risk.

I can honestly say that I had completely purged him from my consciousness until tonight, well over 30 years since last getting a contact high from passing his door. I had a workout class tonight, where I saw that one of the trainers had left a nutrition book on the counter of the pro shop, the author's name briefly reviving the brain cells tied to the Bongster and making me wonder, shit, could that have been Mike?

It was possible. I had no idea what, exactly, the Perfesser was tenured in- our chats were usually far more metaphysical than that- and Cornell did have a College of Human Ecology that included a nutrition major, so it wasn't entirely out of the realm.  Finally, though, clearer recollections prevailed. Michael Author's name was one letter off from Michael Stoner's. Shit, I speculated. Dude probably runs a hedge fund now.

I googled him.

He does.

AND the stoner shit went to law school. A better one than mine.

The best part, though? I'm almost certainly happier than he is. Also? I probably remember his freshman year better than he does.