Sometimes when I start reading a story in the New York Times it’s so ridiculous — and such a sign of our time — that I read it out loud to my wife over the breakfast table.
Was this at B.U.? I transferred there in 1971 and graduated in '72. It was quite an experience. I made many trips to Fenway, although I have always been a fan of that New York team.
I missed this most informative piece in The Times. Ridiculous and inane, or perhaps even insane. Well done, Randy.
I never had a dorm room. Couldn’t afford it. Instead I slept on an army cot in a tiny shared room at my aunt & uncle’s modest cape. I’m still awaiting the PTSD of never having a designer. Nonetheless, I learned a helluva lot and ain’t that what college is all about?
Was this at B.U.? I transferred there in 1971 and graduated in '72. It was quite an experience. I made many trips to Fenway, although I have always been a fan of that New York team.
Seriously. Gotta be an NYT punked story. So sad that it’s funny.
I missed this most informative piece in The Times. Ridiculous and inane, or perhaps even insane. Well done, Randy.
I never had a dorm room. Couldn’t afford it. Instead I slept on an army cot in a tiny shared room at my aunt & uncle’s modest cape. I’m still awaiting the PTSD of never having a designer. Nonetheless, I learned a helluva lot and ain’t that what college is all about?
Dormitory @ Boston in 1968: desk lamp, throw rug, Red Sox schedule, heating coil. ☕
Spartan!