I think I might have to start a new daily column, "Sports Fans More Insane Than You." After this morning's alma mater child naming piece, there seems to be no one in sight for ways to insult the intelligent life you've been granted by assigning too much value to the college team you pay attention to on Saturdays.
It'll be pretty helpful actually. Every time your significant other yells at you for investing too much of your life into an institution you no longer attend and teenage athletes who do not know you, just show them articles like this one...
I guess its not that shocking. If you're gonna spring for the casket, you might as well go the whole nine. The piece's writer, Craig Nelson, is a Cuse grad, and he ruminates on the obvious question...just exactly where which part of the quad would I like students to trod all over me for the rest of eternity?
Besides, where would they plant me? On the quad in front of Hendrick's Chapel? Down the hill at the Newhouse School where I got my degree? Back in the stacks of the library where I used to work? A more appropriate resting place for thousands of SU grads would be The Orange, the legendary bar that sat on the edge of campus before it closed its doors, a dive where your feet happily stuck to the beer-soaked floor.
I was a Darwin's guy myself and sadly, that's closed as well. I guess that means you'll find my remains on the 500 block of Euclid Ave., where I made my home senior year. If I can rest knowing that just above, two freshman drunk on Natty Light are fondling each other in the bushes, then I shall rest easy.
It'll be pretty helpful actually. Every time your significant other yells at you for investing too much of your life into an institution you no longer attend and teenage athletes who do not know you, just show them articles like this one...
There's a movement afoot at colleges and universities that allows alums to stay around for, well, centuries. It's called the campus cemetery. Notre Dame, Duke, The Citadel and the University of Virginia are among the schools that have set aside sites on campus where alumni can loll about and relax, just like they did in their good-old college days. Only this time, no classes.
I guess its not that shocking. If you're gonna spring for the casket, you might as well go the whole nine. The piece's writer, Craig Nelson, is a Cuse grad, and he ruminates on the obvious question...just exactly where which part of the quad would I like students to trod all over me for the rest of eternity? Besides, where would they plant me? On the quad in front of Hendrick's Chapel? Down the hill at the Newhouse School where I got my degree? Back in the stacks of the library where I used to work? A more appropriate resting place for thousands of SU grads would be The Orange, the legendary bar that sat on the edge of campus before it closed its doors, a dive where your feet happily stuck to the beer-soaked floor.
I was a Darwin's guy myself and sadly, that's closed as well. I guess that means you'll find my remains on the 500 block of Euclid Ave., where I made my home senior year. If I can rest knowing that just above, two freshman drunk on Natty Light are fondling each other in the bushes, then I shall rest easy.