Ah, yesterday.

You know, son, I remember the days long ago when crowds of people used to stampede toward a Huskie Bus when one approached.

Now, they all run away for fear of being stampeded by one. I’m just glad I’m not the guy who pays the insurance premiums on those babies.

Hey, but it’s nobody’s fault that there has been a few bus accidents, right? Blame it all on Mother Nature, that frigid witch, who decided February would be a nice month to bury humanity alive. Remember that doosey we got on Valentines Day—more flakes than Greek Row on a Saturday night.

Speaking of snow, I remember the days when this university would cancel classes if it snowed higher than a Great Dane’s rear end, even during finals week. And this was only a measley Valentines Day. I don’t think we would have lost out on much had we cancelled. Hell, there are already enough mushy dopes out there who think it should be a national holiday anyway.

Boy, things have changed, haven’t they?

Yes, I remember the days when it snowed bad and people would put this real special tool to use. Oh, it was big and wide, made out of metal, very, very strong, and extremely effective in snowstorms. (Slip into Mr. Rogers voice) Boys and girls, can you say “plow”? There you go. Now strap that baby onto your John Deere and kick it into fifth!

Seriously folks, there has really been a lack of plowing in our little neighborhood when we need it the most. Sure, they always catch up in a few days, but by then, you have resorted to parking in the middle of Lincoln Highway, where your windshield has 86 parking tickets on it, and the ticket lady is rejoicing, just zooming around your car doing wheelies.

I guess Valentines Day wasn’t as horrible as our Groundhog’s Day Eve blizzard, though. That was the day you really had to stop 11 or 12 times on the way to class to pull that good samaritan crap; you know, helping push people out of parking spaces to the tune of burning rubber. I swear, I think I was face to face with more license plates that day than the day shift at Alcatraz. (Think about it, it’ll come to ya.)

Don’t get me wrong here. The weather isn’t the only thing that has changed. People change, too, you know. Why, I remember the days when my roomate used to spend all his time tuning his electric guitar and watching horror movies.

Nowadays, he lives to do homework, wears flannel jammies, slippers, a traditional smoker’s jacket, and puffs away on his pipe. Granted, it’s an unusual change, but it does lend an air of seriousness to his butt-length hair.

I’ve changed, too. I’m defintiely not the same shy, quiet jock-strap head I was when I showed up at college.

Places also change. Studying room at the library is becoming pretty scarce. Now, the library is just a big, giant stack of books and a condom machine.

I don’t know if I like change, but it’s pretty inevitable. Whenever it comes to mind how much change there is in life, I think of the wise words of my dear, old stuck-in-the-50s dad on my 21st birthday: “You know, Son, you’re 21 now and a lot has changed. You can drink legally now, but you can still get in trouble for walking down the middle of the street drunk, so always walk home through people’s yards.”