Member-only story
A Sentimental College Journey
With no flowers at all
We tell ourselves all sorts of stories about ourselves. I’m not soft or sentimental, for instance, but then, isn’t being sentimental fairly subjective?
If I tell you that I love Bobby Vinton’s hit song from the 60's — “I Love How You Love Me” (and by the way, have you heard The Raveonettes’ cover?) — what will you think of me? And if I tell you that I love it not just for itself but maybe more because my mother loved it, will you call me a sentimental fool?
I guess we can’t help what touches our heart, and I’ve often wondered about my tough guy friends and what they’re hiding behind, what song they might be hiding deep within that would tell the rest of us that cores aren’t always as hard as people pretend. Of course, we know this, but sometimes a memory of an old acquaintance comes to mind, and when I think of them, my first impulse might be to laugh a bit or shake my head at the memory, especially if it’s one where the person in question did something questionable.
A person like Mike.
Mike wasn’t a good friend of mine, but we hung out some in our college years. He was in a fraternity, and I wasn’t. He dated a beautiful, and I thought, hard-to-get sorority woman, and for the life of me I never understood why she dated him. She seemed to me the type…
