Yes, it’s that time again! Time to welcome you all back to this frozen tundra otherwise known as DeKalb. I knew it was you because I recognized all your wind-chapped faces peeking out from underneath those parkas and that ever-popular “NIU Walk”—body slanted to a 45 degree angle to the wind. I’d like to say that it’s nice to see you all, but ….

To tell you the truth, it was kind of nice having the campus and the city of DeKalb feel like “the day after”—no people, no movement, no life. For all you dormies and others who headed crazily towards I-88 after finals, only to find access to the tollbooth was backed up all the way to Taylor Street, let me just give you a brief glimpse at what NIU is like during the semester break.

First off, yes, surprise, surprise, it was actually a joy to attend to my usual morning run. Off in the distance I didn’t see tree after tree after tree littered with so much toilet paper it would make a Russian cry. And I didn’t hear that familiar crunch, crunch, crunch as I stepped on all those plastic beer cups that magically appear every weekend morning in Greek Row. (Tell me, where do these things come from—and why don’t people put them into a garbage can after they’re done with them?)

As I ran down Lincoln Highway by all our distinguished nightclubs in town, I didn’t feel the need to keep my eyes peeled to the ground so I could avoid stepping in any vomit that was missed by those “sawdust shovelin‘ fools” on Friday and Saturday nights.

And, no, I didn’t see any used condoms spewed out onto the sidewalks either. It just about brought a tear to my eye.

Nor did I hear any women screaming from the surrounding apartment complexes at 2, 3 and 4 a.m., as usual. God knows what they are doing—or having done to them. And, now that I think about it, I’m not too sure I want to know.

My neighbors didn’t come barreling into their parking spaces right outside my bedroom window at 2:15 a.m. on Friday and Saturday nights (that’s gives them just enough time to regain their eye-sight after the bars put the flood lights on at the 2 a.m. closing time, find their cars and narrowly miss killing thirty or so people, including themselves, on their drunken joy ride home), proclaiming to my whole apartment complex how great the “broads” (or fill in your favorite derogatory word for the female gender) were at the bars that night, at decibels that have been known to cause deafness in man. I know after several of these “proclamations,” I’ve had to thump on the side of my head a few times to make sure the ol’ ear drum was still intact.

The 7-11 parking lot wasn’t like a rat maze with fifteen cars parked in a lot only supporting six spaces. And, no, I didn’t get whip-lash trying to get out of the parking lot once I got in. When the urge struck for a banana-flavored Laffy Taffy and a chance to just about die laughing at those hysterical jokes imprinted on the wrapper, I didn’t have to wait in line for fifteen minutes to buy thirty cents worth of candy behind twelve girls who look like they’ve been kissing fans (otherwise known as the “poof-head syndrome”) buying big-gulps and half-and-half slushes.

And, yes, on Monday morning I was able to get my garbage into the dumpster at my apartment complex. It wasn’t filled to the hull with the usual (approximately) ten thousand empty beer bottles and crunched up twelve-pack cardboard containers and an equal number of empty pizza boxes.

Yes, it was awfully nice here during the break. Please, allow me just a moment to lean back in my chair and reflect on those wonderful four weeks ….

O.K., I’m back.

Well, I’d like to welcome you all back with open arms, but ….

Actually, now that I think about it, since the number 3 bus would be kind of cold without all you huddled masses keeping it warm, I guess a welcome back is in order. So, WELCOME BACK!