I think I’ve been Californicated. 

For those of you unfamiliar with Californication, I suggest you indulge. After finishing the series I cannot help but relate to hank moody and distinctly know where he’s going wrong or right by experience. The brilliance, wit and kander of hank moody is constantly met with literal misfortune and innocent decisions that always take a turn for the worse. He is constantly reminded of how he can’t get his shit together, yet is regarded by most as successful. But whenever he is there’s something that pulling him back, something that is beyond his control but yet is at the mercy of. There is an indisputable sense of talent and ambition; a sense of awareness; a realist with a sense of what perfect is. He knows the love of his life is in front of him but simply comes around too late and can’t figure it out. It’s always one more chance or one last time yet like the boy who cried wolf when it actually was time, Karen was long gone. Just when things are going right his wife and daughter begin to cut him out or an outrageous coincidence happens. He can’t save himself from what seems to be deus ex macchina just ruining the day. The instant feeling of replacement shocks hank. He realizes they’re happier without him and let’s them go because he’s as Becca put it “out of the picture.” Hank vilifies himself instead to protect her happiness and keep her away. It’s this interesting moment where one weighs their own happiness with that of whom they love. It goes completely against his creed, to never give up. But when it’s there in front of you, one can only ask themselves, what greater love is there to sacrifice ones own selfish happiness for the happiness of your other. Hank shares another trait. The knack for indirectly pushes those he loves away. He is constantly in battle with the person who loves him most and has gotten to the point where he’s hurt her so much she cannot forgive him or herself in order to be with him. And unfortunately, the same is slowly happening to his daughter. Somehow, maybe for the sake of the show, they’ve held on for years, 16 in Karen’s case. But in my experience these situations end during the queens of dog town scene at whiskeys where Hank is quickly replaced by the nice guy with all the right words, a simple surrender at the obvious and sacred joy that hank is no longer a part of. So as Hank as well as many leaves, he has nothing. 

All he has is the next helpless girl with with a smile.

It was only fitting….

An ode to college
And to what lies ahead.
Even to horrible twin size beds.
Here’s to 4 years of debauchery and academic excellence.
4 years of taking tests using only common sense.
Here’s to the memories built 
In a world suspended from reality.
To Monday morning classes
Aka back to banality.
But what more could you ask for?

We’ve gone to Europe, Cancun, Australia and more.
We found friends in this hopeless place.
Studied every Harvard Business case.
We came we saw and we conquered
Exams, hangovers and spring concerts.
When all hope was lost
We managed to boot and rally 
Keeping down salmos chicken patties.
Here’s to Effins and Rentes
DPS and RAs.
To Machtleys and snow days.
To our lasting legacy
Winning every NEC.
To the nights we’ll never forget
And to those we’ll never remember.
Even to those coming back in early September.

To love to health to friendship and wealth,
May we have it all and lack none, 
May we lack all but one. 
So do not look for the right words to say
It’s not goodbye its good-day.
So cheers one more time to the class of twenty fifteen
Rip one more shot of jose or jim beam.
Get your Natty and jacky D
Keystones and twisted tea
Party from Bs to the Ps.
Tonight is for you, carpe diem, carpe your life.
Carry what you’ve learned through success and strife.
Be great, be more than a hire
Go forth … and set the world on fire.


‘Twas the night before Spring Weekend….

‘Twas the night before Spring Weekend, when all thru A1 to P2,
Not a student in sight, with nothing to do;
The Dogs were nestled all snug in their bunks,
Eager to wake up at dawn to get drunk;
Too anxious to sleep, their hearts filled with wonder,
Of which among them would be first to chunder;
Salmon shorts hung in the closet with care
In hopes that graduation would soon be there;
And as I settled in for some light springtime snoozin’
To catch a little rest ‘fore a long day of boozin’
When on Jacob Drive there arose such a clatter,
I got up and looked to see what was the matter;
Out the window I saw through a blanket of fog
A man with a beard, at his feet a bulldog;
I dashed out the door, I couldn’t be quicker,
‘Twas ol’ John Bryant, arms laden with liquor!
The bottles, they clinked and the beer cans, they clanked;
His stumbling gait revealed how much he’d drank;
He put on a tank and let out a yell
To be heard from Salmo all the way to row L:
“Now! André, now! Franzia, now! Jack and Jim Beam!
On! Natty, on! Keystone, on! Burnett’s Whipped Cream!
From the Village rooftops to every lecture Hall,
Now drink away! Drink away! Drink away all!”
Then he called me over with a chuckle so hearty
And conjured a vision of the upcoming darty:
There were girls in sundresses splayed out on the lawn;
Freshmen, hunched over toilets, were already gone;
Fischer’s grand clock hands bathed in golden rays
While bros stumbled ‘neath in a deep drunken haze;
When 9ams somehow become optional
And up before noon is no longer possible.
In MRC classrooms, to professors’ chagrin,
Students sipped out of coffee cups filled all with gin;
From Tuesday night rentes and Thursdays at Effins,
Spring week had a many many lessons.
And Townhouse backyards, so dark and so ratty,
Shone with the luster of crushed cans of Natty;
From up in his tower Ron Machtley watched
All his happy Bulldogs, so free and debauched;
And I knew, swaying in the fair April weather,
How liquor and sun brings the whole school together.
But then Tupper gave out a quick bark,
And this glorious vision soon faded to dark;
John Bryant bent down and rubbed the dog’s head,
And before they both vanished, a few words he said;
Grumblin’ and mumblin’ was all that I heard;
He was pretty wasted, his speech was so slurred;
But as to his meaning, well, I have a hunch:
“Happy Spring Weekend to all, to all you drunk bunch!”

Oh the memories.