Nothing like visiting a college campus to make you feel young again, yet old all that same time. This past weekend we hung out at both UC and Miami – doing our best not to compare and contrast the universities – as let’s face it; we are not talking apples to apples. But in both cases we relished in our youth, especially while tailgating and dressed in all black before UC’s big (yet too close) win over UCONN and while enjoying the greasy spoon at Skippers that next day for lunch (you could still smell the stale beer on the floor and we somehow felt a bond with every college student who walked in to retrieve a credit card they “forgot” and close out a tab from the previous night).On the flip side, we found ourselves among somewhat naive or smug young adults concerned about whether their Uggs clashed with their NorthFace jackets and determined that Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” is only a product of YouTube. And then, while pushing Alex and Avery down Slant Walk, we made the mistake and did the math. It was exactly 17 years ago I was a freshman at UC, probably walking down Clifton Avenue on an unusually warm November afternoon. We instantly went from being young, hit alumni to feeling like we were in Oxford for parent’s weekend (as parents). Luckily those days are about 17 years away, but it feels too close for comfort.
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