MUG SHOT

So I got up this morning, took a brief dip in the pool, then drove for an hour over to Sweetwater, where my old university is.

I went to the university bookstore under the premise of buying a coffee mug, or some sort of souvenir commemorating my 3 years at that fine institution. It was my home before I transferred to NYU, and I daresay it contributed more to my development than the private college I graduated from. Privately, I still consider myself more of a Swampwater U rat than an NYU high-flyer. Sometimes, I even think about writing to my old college, and inquiring about the possibility of a “degree swap,” where I trade in the parchment I have, for the one I probably deserve. It wouldn’t be very difficult for me to uphold my half of the bargain; currently, my NYU degree sits on the floor of my room in Sheepshead Bay, still tucked away in the oversized envelope it arrived in.

However, there are days like today, where I find myself wondering—did I actually attend Swampwater U? For one thing, since the time I attended (only five years ago), the campus seems to have changed dramatically. Trudging along the walking paths, I was surprised by how many buildings had sprung up during my absence. There was an entire quadrant of new facilities that I did not recognize from memory. Only after I checked a directory did I realize that all these new buildings stood on what had been the big grassy mound behind the library, where I spent many a happy hour lying in the sun, composing bad poems.

Now don’t get me wrong. While I tend to be a nostalgic fellow, I do understand that change is often necessary. Sometimes, it can even be for the better, as in the case of Swampwater U erecting an edifice where a series of trailers used to sit. I remember having to go to these makeshift classrooms at least once every term, and it was kind of demoralizing having to attend college in a trailer park. Clearly, removing them was a positive change. But at the same time, seeing how much better shape the university is in now, compared to when I attended, made me a little jealous. Why did they wait until I left to make this place nice? I muttered bitterly to myself.

But then I stopped in at the Swampwater U bookstore, and realized that some things never really change. I perused the selection of coffee mugs, which was, in a word, dreadful. Choice of navy blue or white, with some vague spiel scrawled across in fancy-looking script. Naturally, the logo of the institution also appeared on the mug, but it was turned on its side, block letters stenciled into a mustard-yellow blob. Sure, to each their own, I suppose. But these “souvenirs” simply looked cheap.

When I realized the cheapness of the artifacts before me, I had a flashback to when I was still a student at Swampwater U, standing here in the bookstore (which was much smaller then, and arranged differently, of course), looking at the same mugs and thinking, “God, these fuckers sure are ugly. No way am I going to purchase one of these.”

Back then, did I really say that? I don’t know, maybe I did. But the point is, at the moment I suffered that flashback, I realized that Swampwater U was probably never as good, or bad, as I thought it was. The truth probably lay somewhere in the middle, as many good times as bad ones. Perhaps the same could be said for any life in its entirety. If my days at Swampwater U appeared any different in hindsight, that was because those specific memories had been filtered through time and incidence (those incidents being my struggles at NYU, and my feeling that the vast majority of other NYU students were pricks).

And so, two important facts became clear to me: Fact #1: Romanticizing the past only works to a certain degree. Once you put your nose right up to it, and get a good peek, it’s apparent that it was probably neutral. Benign, with any luck at all. Fact #2: Ugly coffee mugs should not be purchased, so the entire morning was a waste, except for me learning Fact #1. Yeah, I drove over an hour to get to Swampwater U. Cost of regular unleaded gasoline in Miami? Nearly three dollars per gallon. Hopefully, there will be a good morning in my near-future, to balance out this sucky one. In the meantime, anyone interested in purchasing a slightly-used Fact #1?