Famous Last Words...The Big Goodbye

"All things end badly, or else they wouldn't end..."

It's been said that the four years you spend in college are the best four years of your life. Whoever first said this is absolutely right.

College can be summed up as four years condensed down into one big party. Not just any big party; the best party you've ever seen. The people you've met, the experiences you've shared...simply priceless. So imagine those four years as the best night of your life. But, inevitably, the party has to end. Everyone has to leave at some point. The post-Graduation time that follows is that "morning after." For me, this summer has been the "hangover summer"...the end of the party...the headache and nausea the following morning. And no matter how many aspirin you take or how much Gatorade you drink, you still feel like shit.

There are the optimistic people who tell me that post-Grad life should be an adventure, and that the best is yet to come. No matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to share their vision. In fact, I can say that I've been depressed nearly every day since I graduated.

I've made some incredible friends here. I saw BU win the Beanpot twice. I met some celebs, saw countless baseball games, and I partied with Playmates. And through it all, I drank enough to kill a large Asian family.

How does one put four incredible years into words? Please understand that there really is no way for me to recall everything from the past four years. As the saying goes, "I'll cherish the nights I'll never remember with the friends I'll never forget." Through it all, it's been a blast. And I'll do my best to write about those people and times which truly meant the most to me...

What can I say about Sami and Dan? To say that I'll simply miss them would be the definition of understatement. There isn't enough room to write it all. I've known these guys since Day One, and they've been some of the best friends that I've ever had. They weren't even friends; they were my brothers. It's hard for many to believe that Seed and I are so close, being on opposite sides in the Yankees-Red Sox War. We didn't even start off on the right foot. At Orientation in June of 2000, they asked everyone what they hoped to see or do during their four years at BU. When it was Dan's turn, he said, "I want to see the Red Sox win the World Series," to which I blurted out, "Yeah, well good luck with that." As for Sami, well, he turned the words "boner" and "taint" into pieces of our everyday vocabulary. He could always make me laugh, no matter what. I'll never forget that Saturday in September: IHOP, whiskey drinks and baseball, and Krispy Kremes. I'll never forget paintball in the summer of '03. I'm glad that we all had the chance to live together at 49 St. Marys this year. I'll miss the times we'd sit around to watch Nip/Tuck or Family Business. I'll miss the times we played catch or Pepper out on the BU Beach. I'll miss the nights we'd go to the bar and get shitty. I'll truly miss it all...

And then there's Greg and Jon, who helped to complete our "home" at 49 St. Marys. I'll miss boxing and beer pong, the parties and "100 Proof at 1 PM." I'll miss Greg's compulsive spending on kitchen equipment, and I'll miss Jon's obsession with lesbians and pre-teens. I'll miss Patty, the unofficial roommate. And I'll never miss "the Russian" or his filthy Tampon Queen whore of a girlfriend...

I'm going to miss the "family" of Dave "Fletch" Fletcher, Matt Martinelli, and Joe Keiley. Those three guys were as inseparable as brothers. Fletch was the older brother, bold and rebellious. Martinelli was the middle child; quiet and reserved, nearly neglected, until he was drinking and started trouble (see also: "What? I had a dream that I got in a fight with that kid."). Joe Keiley was the responsible younger brother, always having to bail out the aforementioned duo. And even though he didn't live with them, Andrew Hass was a sort of step-brother or cousin to that family. I'll miss these guys. I'll miss our nights spent playing trivia at T's as the team "Gaylord Fletcher." I'll miss a drunken Matt putting Hass into a headlock. And what can you say about Joe Keiley? Looking back, I can't think of a time when he ever said "no" to a trip to T's or the Dugout. He wasn't even necessarily drinking...but he never turned you down...

I'll miss Jimmy C, one of my closest friends since Day One. I'll always remember those times during sophomore year when we'd meet up for a coffee and shoot the shit in the dead of winter. I'll miss Jon Goldstein and Mike Gaines, two of the most creative people I've ever met. I was honored to be a part of one of their film projects, and I know they have nothing but success on the horizon...

I'll miss all my friends from Claflin 7: Jon Lewis, Mo, Aatish, Chaitoff, Dave, Cheryl, Andrew, Adele, Liz and Sara. I'll miss all the bullshitting and just screwing around. I'll miss the nicknames and the immaturity. I'll miss the times that Canner and Graham used to prank-call Jupe. And I'll never forget that even though they had graduated, Liz and Sara came back to town for my knighting...

I'll miss my broadcast classes. There was nothing like spending an afternoon at the Pub with Scott Robinson, Leslie, Seed, Alan and Joe Keiley after a few hours of class. I'll miss the times that Kristin and I would sneak into the edit booth to slip Bailey's into our coffee on Friday mornings. I'll miss Scott's dry sense of humor, as he stated on the last day of class, "You know, statistically speaking, either me or O-Train will probably be dead by our 20-year reunion"...

I'll miss Alan Mac and Hillary, two people I was fortunate enough to meet and become good friends with during my final semester. My only regret is that I had to meet them so late in my collegiate career...

I'll miss Dave Coakly, the bartender at O'Leary's, and arguably the best barman I ever met. O'Leary's was always the best place to sit and have a quiet pint. During my last visit, Dave greeted me with a glass of my favorite Irish whiskey and said, "This one's on the house, for old time's sake"...

I'll miss the BU Pub, the only place where anyone has ever called me "Sir." I'll miss T's Pub, home to the best Lynchburg Lemonades in town. I'll miss Tuesday Night Karoke and the time we brought the house down with "Hey Ya!" I'll miss those 2 AM McDonald's runs with Joe Keiley. And I'll miss all the times that Scotty would "Barge it!" on the way home...

I'll miss Terrier hockey. Some of my best memories were from those games. I'll miss the Beanpot, one of the only times you'll see everyone you know drunk at 5:00 on a Monday. I'll miss Walter Brown Arena, the only real home of the Icedogs. I'll never forget my last home game as a student, a 3-3 tie against UNH. After that game was the first time I actually ever sat in my season ticket seat. I'll miss Goldberg's intensity and knocking back beers with Cardamone and "Degerman." I'll miss Midnight Mania, Craven's cheesehead, the Facepainters and the FREEP guys, the chants and the camaraderie, and all the large beers. I'll miss counting down the start of the "BC Sucks!" chant, "Ole" on the power plays, and "Oh when BU goes marching in." There's nothing like an entire section chanting "M-A-I-N-E...Fuuuuuuuuuuccccck YOU!" I'll miss the banners and the low ceiling of Walter Brown Arena. I'll miss the electricity in the air before a BU-BC matchup, and the raucous atmosphere that followed. I'll miss Jim Prior booming out, "...the teams are ready...sooooooo let's play hockey!" I'll miss Ed Carpenter patrolling the Press Box and his wife's coffee cake. I'll miss road trips to the opposing arenas, and I'll miss calling Jerry York and Dick Umile a "horse's ass." I'll definitely miss Sasquatch, but not the dancing Ethan Clay.

I'll miss roaming the halls of COM. I'll miss my "stop and chats" with Julie H and Jill, who would always brighten my day with a smile. I'll miss seeing Scott Wintner pacing through the halls, stressed out over something in COM. I'll miss my two favorite professors, Thistle and Falla, who made learning fun and taught me more than any other profs. I'll miss the COM Prom...this year's was one of the best times I had in four years...

I'll miss Intramural Softball. We had three great teams with some truly great guys...Brandwein and Thomson, Brochu and D'Onofrio, Rubin and Syed, Leavitt and Coslov. To this day, Trevor Nugent's catch during sophomore year is legendary. Even though we never brought home the Championship, I wouldn't have ever wanted to play for another team. I'll miss that closeness that we had through our six-game seasons, and how we all came together to play as one. And I don't care what anyone says, I'll definitely miss Jupe...at times my nemesis, but always my friend...

I'll miss those times that Hillsdon and DeVita came back up for a weekend...even though Hillsdon was an awful influence at the bar, and DeVita was a curse at hockey games. And I'll miss the times that Spiro made the trip over from Northeastern to hang out with all of us...

I'll miss WTBU and broadcasting "The Perfect Gentleman" with Sami Bull each week. I'll miss Seed's sports updates and the "How's Your News?" intro music. I'll miss all my friends there, people like Amanda and Jennifer, Steve V and Katie K, Ross and Spitzer, KC, DelBarrio and Jay. I'll miss pregaming for the monthly meetings at the Dugout. I'll miss giving my "speeches" at the General Info meetings at the beginning of each semester, and I'll never forget the time that Hillsdon dropped Jupe with a jab during a WTBU Sports meeting. I'll miss Radochia's cameos on the show, where we racked up an unknown number of FCC violations. Each week, there was another STD he'd discuss, and it was there that he first coined the term "meat pocket." I'll miss our dinners at the GSU after the show, with the coffee and donut run afterwards. Somehow, Steve made a comment each week that ruined your appetite...but looking back, it wouldn't be like Steve if he didn't...

I'll miss Hamblin and Blanchette. I'll miss all of their theme parties. Despite the blizzard, their CEOs and Corporate Hoes party was one of my all-time favorites. I'll never forget Spring Break '04, when Hammer and O-Train took on Vegas...."Baby, you don't even know..."

I'll miss Halloween at BU, where nobody was ever allowed into a party dressed as the "generic college student." Brandwein and Thomson always put on an incredible party. There was Seed as Jimmy Dugan, Hillsdon as an Oompa Loompa, Jon Lewis's cow, and Matt and Bill as the Blues Brothers. And a favorite will always remain my costume as Matt Foley, Motivational Speaker...

I'll miss Rodion (aka Borat), Nicole and Margretta, Dave and 'Bama, Nugent and Mark, Katie, Bruckner, Ali and Jenny. Best of luck in the future. And naturally I'll miss Manzi...enough said...

I'll miss all my friends I'm leaving behind who are still in school. I'll miss people like Bill Gioia and Cannarsa, Tia, Whitney and Lindsay, Jess, Alissa and Emily, Tony, Steve M and Dan. Thanks for all the great times and memories. And I'll miss Nicky, who could always make me smile...

I'll miss Tara, who for four years was my closest connection to my hometown. Our trip down Boylston Street on Wednesday night was an incredible time. Thank you for always being there through the good times and all the bad...

I'll miss all the stand-up shows at the Comedy Connection. I'll miss seeing John "Dr. Dirty" Valby whenever he was in town. I'll miss the times that Dan's cousin Billy would come up for a night on the town. I'll miss Marathon Monday and living a few blocks from Fenway Park. I'll miss 49 St. Marys Street, the first place that actually felt like a "home" in Boston.

I'll miss buying booze for minors. It was nice to give back to the system which had treated me so kindly before...

I regret not having a chance to say goodbye to everyone. There are some people I know I'll lose touch with, and those who I'll never see again. And I suppose it's as the saying goes that if you're truly friends with people, you'll never lose sight of each other. But beyond that, it's difficult to think of all the people you'd see on the street and stop to talk with, even if you were late for class or a meeting. I'll miss those random "stop and chats" with all the acquaintences I've made.

To the class of '05 and those who follow: have fun. Live fast and live it up. Go out every chance you get. If you're tired and your friends want to go out, take the trip anyways. You might not want to at the moment, but when you're looking back you'll wish that you did. Those are the times you'll really remember. As Tom Petty once said, "The work never ends, but college does."

I suppose this leads me to the end, though it's incredibly hard to sign off and say goodbye to the places and people that turned Boston into my second home. Through the past four years, I've met some great people, and all I ever wanted was to be the best friend I could to all of you. I hope that this is how you thought of me.

In trying to figure out how exactly to say "goodbye," I am surrounded by the quotes that people much more famous than myself have said. As Dr. Seuss once said, "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." Ernie Harwell closed out his final broadcast with, "It's time to say 'goodbye' but goodbyes are sad, so I'd much rather say 'hello.' 'Hello' to a new adventure. Rather than 'goodbye,' please allow me to say 'thank you'." Me, I don't know really what to say except this: I don't know where or when I'll see many of you again, but you'll always be in my thoughts and memories. I hope we can keep in touch. I'll see you when we're a little bit older, whenever that may be.

So, thanks for the memory
And strictly entre-nous, darling how are you?
And how are all the little dreams that never did come true?
Awfully glad I met you,
Cheerio, and toodle-oo
And thank you so much. -- Bob Hope

Ramblings...

Welcome back everybody. Let's see who fed it and who ate it this week...

For the past two years, I have correctly predicted the winner of the Miss Teen USA Pageant. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing, but either way I kinda feel like a pederass. Miss Oregon, the dark horse, took the 2003 contest, while Miss Louisiana claimed victory in 2004. I watched with Sami Bull, while Radochia watched from NJ and fed us his comments via IM. Lowpoints in the contest had to be performances by JC Chasez and Brandy. As Rads pointed out, Weird Al must have been busy...

The high point of the evening had to be the Q&A with the five finalists. This is where Miss Louisiana truly shined. At this point it looked like Miss Hawaii or Miss Nevada could walk away with the title. And then they spoke. When asked who her personal hero was, Miss Nevada said it was her brother, who is currently serving in the Air Force, because, and I quote, "he's putting his line on the life for us." There was about five seconds of silence in my room, followed by the eruption of laughter. Sami Bull started drinking Tanqueray from the bottle. None of us could believe she actually said that. I wish I could say it ended there, but it got worse. In the second round of questioning, Nevada was asked what her favorite book was, to which she replied "The Great Gapspy." We all needed a drink. I think at this point, her parents left the building and went looking to buy her a pair of clear heels. That question took her out of the money, leaving a tight race between Hawaii and Louisiana.

Hawaii ate it during the second round of questioning. When asked what she would like to work with the government to change, she said she wanted to work with the FDA to help get rid of fast food because, "I'm like addicted to fries." That's not gonna win it. Thanks for playing.

Some comments from Mr. Radochia during the Pageant...
-- "that one looks like a retarded Mariah Carey"
-- "they are all hot, watching stuff like this frustrates me because I know that they will be fucking morons and not me all at once like they should"
-- "think she's hiding a huge ass under that large skirt?"

Old School SportsCenter is all the rage! There's nothing like the Kilborn-Patrick duo, who set the precedent for all those who follow. "Crackatoa! East of Java!" "He's not my Vydas. He's not your Vydas. He's Arvydas!" "Jumanji!" ESPN really needs more Kenny Mayne and far less Stuart Scott. I think it's one of two things with Stu: either (1), ESPN is deathly afraid that he will play the race card, or (2) nobody can actually look him in his lazy eye to tell him how much he sucks.

Imagine if they had with Old School Miss Teen USA...how many former contestants would be on the pole?

Phil and Sean came up last weekend for a visit. Shmitty is a gamer, but Phil can't drink for shit.

I finally saw American Wedding and was actually surprised at how funny it was...

Mr. Goldstein returns to Boston for the weekend. Guaranteed good times for all. It's gonna be really hard to say goodbye to him and Gaines...

With only a few minor touch ups left, the Year End Video is nearly complete and the working copy has been extremely popular thus far. Yet no matter how many times Seed and I watch it, we end up getting sad and start drinking...

Song of the moment: Counting Crows, "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby," This Desert Life, 1999
If dreams are like movies, than memories are films about ghosts...

I'm now entering my last week in Boston. To say that I'm "sad" is an understatement. But as they say, "Get busy livin', or get busy dyin'"...

The Random Shout Out for the week goes to Mr. Seth Leavitt, COM Grad, Fenway Security extraordinaire. Seth hooked us up with some incredible seats down the first base line for today's matinee against the Devil Rays. Then, we hopped onto the field for a quick photo with him. Thanks again Seth, the "other" DH on Team WTBU. Best of luck, kid...

"Yo! Yo Rey! Rey! Rey Sanchez!"
"Yo, what's up man?"
"Not much, man! Good job!" -- Dan's encounter with Rey Sanchez after the game. Rey was just happy that someone recognized him. Don Zimmer was less than cordial however...

"Hey Tino! Can I get a picture? Thanks man! Big fan, big fan!" -- my encounter with Tino Martinez after the game. Class act all the way...

Lenny Clarke was definitely shitfaced when he was in the NESN booth with Denis Leary during Wednesday night's Sox game...

Hopefully the Madden Curse will strike again this year. Ray Lewis needs to go. Aside from the fact that he's a card-carrying Blood, he does his stupid fucking Riverdance-esque jig before every game. Fuck him...maybe he'll stab someone else...

Goodfellas: Special Edition comes out on DVD this week. No more flipping the dvd over in the middle of the movie!

UPS sucks. "Go Brown" is what their commercials say. Yeah, brown because they're shit. Two days in a row they fucked up the delivery of my Marx Brothers DVD set. I paid for 2nd Day Air shipping, which meant the package was supposed to arrive on Monday. It didn't come until Wednesday. TWICE they put it on the wrong truck. Once is just an unfortunate accident. Twice is just a total fuck up. I got a call from one of the managers at the local UPS center on Tuesday night saying that it was again placed on the wrong truck. She said she had it in her hand and asked if I would like to come and pick it up. UPS is a delivery service. I shouldn't have to come and pick up my package. You fucked up...you figure it out.

But then again, what do I know?

The 2004 Beanpot...six months later...

It's been six months since the Beanpot debacle where those BC assholes won and destroyed what could have been the one saving grace to the disastrous '03-'04 hockey season. At the time, I was writing my weekly column for the WTBU Sports website and wrote about the game afterwards. I never published the column. Now, I present to you my finished column on the 2004 Beanpot...

The Last Cut is the Deepest

How did it come to this? 8-12-6 heading down the final stretch of the season...and a second place finish at the annual Beanpot Tournament.

Before my freshman year, BU had won 23 of 48 Beanpots, having claimed the last six in a row. In fact, 1998 was the only year in that stretch where the Terriers had won by a mere goal (a 2-1 OT win over the wicked smahties). If you told me during my freshman orientation that the Icedogs would lose two of the next four, I'd have told you that you were crazy.

I spent Monday night drowning my sorrows with some fellow members of Terrier Nation at the Dugout on Commonwealth Ave., the site of so many celebrations during the second Monday in February. Staring down at the empty pint glasses and pitchers on the table, I sat and wondered to myself, "How did this ever happen? What went wrong this season?" and perhaps most of all, "Why did this all happen during my senior year?" Nobody spoke. It was just silence. What was there to say? Nick Cardamone broke the silence. "We came in as losers and we're going out as losers." It didn't justify the loss, but it seemed to make sense.

But this was THE BEANPOT. This was the tournament known throughout college hockey circles as "The BU Invitational." It was OUR tournament, 25 times over. And the Eagles swept in and stole it away.

Granted, BU hockey is not having a strong season. What they're having doesn't even justify being called a season at all. That much is obvious to anyone. It's a rare occurrence for the hoops team to be a more apparent NCAA lock than the Icedogs. But a win at the Beanpot could have erased the hurt from this season. It could have validated some of the heartbreak. I could have forgotten about those three losses to BC. I could forget about the 8-4 Black Bear Massacre. Hell, I could have even forgotten about 2001.

What's worse is the new tradition those clowns at the FleetCenter started this year. A banner hangs from the rafters of the House that Jeremy Jacobs built which advertises the Beanpot Tournament. After 51 prior tourneys, they decided this year to attach a banner underneath to honor the reigning Beanpot champion. After all, 52 seems like a nice round number to start a new tradition. It's not like the 50th Tournament (a 5-0 BU victory over N'Eastern) would have been more appropriate or anything. Seeing that banner which read "Boston College: 2004 Champions"...it made me want to throw up. It was like someone just dumped a container of Morton's salt onto the fresh knife wound in my heart. It just sucked.

What's left to look forward to? My last home game at Walter Brown Arena among the Section 8'ers? A possible berth in the Hockey East playoffs? There's a slight chance that BC and BU could face each other in the first round, and it'd be so sweet for a shot at redemption. But it'd never be the same as the Beanpot.

I just hope that the Class of '04 was an aberration, an "ebb" in the "ebb and flow" of BU hockey. I hope the Class of '07 experienced their only Beanpot loss. In my four years it comes down to this: two BC wins, or two BU losses. Either way you look at it, that's two more than there should be.

Ramblings...

Welcome back everybody. Let's see who fed it and who ate it this week...

It's always interesting when you read about one of your high school classmates in the newspaper. Such was the case last week, when Joe Linderman was arrested for DWI. Not only did he crash into another car while intoxicated, but he got out, flipped his car back over and fled the scene...only to lead the police on a brief chase, which ended in him crashing his car again. Luckily nobody was killed. So let's see...DWI, hit and run, and resisting arrest...not sure if he's gonna make it to the reunion. But then again, I don't think he ever graduated either...

Two people I didn't miss while I was home: The Russian, and his Tampon Queen whore.

The FBI raided a mosque in Albany, NY last night after two members were arrested as part of a sting operation. These two fuckers were trying to buy a shoulder-fired missile from someone who turned out to be an undercover agent. It was part of their plot to kill a Pakistani diplomat in New York City. I guess firing a rocket really takes out the guesswork...don't need to be 100% accurate with one of those. The Times Union had some photos on their website of one of the Mosque members talking with the press. If your Mosque is believed to be part of a terror cell, do you think it's really that wise to wear a t-shirt that says, "Fear Allah"?

The Comments portion of these Blogs has been fixed. Now you can comment without requiring a Blogger account. So comment!

Tuesday night, Plisko locked his keys inside his van, and we waited with him for an hour and a half until a locksmith came to open it. As if that didn't suck enough, the shady locksmith told Joe that only his father was covered by Triple-A, and as a result it would cost him $45 cash to open up the van. Triple-A immediately went to the top of Joe's Shit List, ahead of the "kid from HS who will remain nameless" that spit in his face in 10th grade. Yes, he still holds a grudge...

I can't wait for Old School SportsCenter with the return of Craig Kilborn-Dan Patrick duo for one night only. The best SportsCenter duo nowadays is Steve Berthiaume and Neil Everett. They're not Kilborn and Patrick, or even Olbermann and Patrick for that matter, but hey, at least it's not Stu Scott. Someone needs to tell Stumanji to shut the fuck up and speak English instead of that "Playa Jive" bullshit that he slings around. If Tie Domi gets a penalty for cross-checking, I don't see that as "hatin' on" the opposition. Leave your Ebonics at home, asshole...

Seed is officially my "c'mon, let's get just one more drink" friend. Everybody has one...

Has anyone seen Dave Foley on Celebrity Poker Showdown? He looks like shit and his jokes are awful. I can't figure out who sucks more...him, or the old host Kevin Pollack? On a side note, there's a movement to make Poker an event at the Olympic Games. Hamblin was going to spearhead the movement, but couldn't drag himself away from ultimatebet.com to actually do the legwork...

As part of his internship with the Howard Stern Show, Jay had to run out to a liquor store and buy Jack Daniels for Artie Lange at 8:30 AM on Wednesday. As part of her PR firm internship, Nicky has to spend a weekend in San Diego lobbying against a referendum on the November ballot. How did I miss out on this stuff?

The other night at T's, some girl was singing "Total Eclipse of the Heart" just like in Old School. It was one of the coolest things I've seen/heard...

Opie and Anthony will be featured on XM Satellite Radio this fall. Their station will play their show on repeat for 24 hours, and it will cost listeners an extra $2 per month. Imagine if Stern goes XM after his contract is up (or the FCC gets so out of control that they force him off the air). Play his show from that morning a few times, and then fill the rest of the time with "Best Of..." shows. Pure genius.

When I was in the 2nd grade, the Weekly Reader said that there would be flying cars in the year 2000. So far we've come up with pre-cooked bacon, cellphones and the internet. I think they were full of shit...

This week's Random Shout Out goes to my good friend, Mr. Scott Robinson, who heads home for good this Saturday. An invaluable piece to my TV Newsroom and Enterprise Reporting classes, Scott was always a lot of fun to work with. Ever a consummate drinking buddy, he'd risk life and limb to barge a couple of bushes and shrubs on a walk home. Good luck, Scotty...gonna miss you, Kid...

The Wonder Years really needs to be released on DVD. Less than two weeks until the release of Goodfellas: Special Edition. My Marx Brothers DVD Collection will arrive on Monday...as Rads would say, that's "more gooder"...

But then again, what do I know?

The Small Town Curse

"Well I was born in a small town,
And I live in a small town.
Prob'ly die in a small town,
Oh, those small communities...

All my friends are so small town.
My parents live in the same small town.
My job is so small town,
Provides little opportunity..."

When I was at my Freshman Orientation at BU in June of 2000, I met Dave Bresler from Clifton Park. He had just graduated from Shenendahowa High School and would be spending the next four years in COM along with me. We had a class together that year and used to talk about stuff back home, happenings and places and people. He didn't go home all that often, and he told me this: "We've got to get out while we can. It (the capital district) sucks you in. If you don't get out now, you'll never get out." It took me a little while, but I can now see exactly what he was talking about: the Small Town Curse.

Glenville, NY is my hometown. It's small. It's quiet. It's the antithesis of Boston. But it's my home. It's where I grew up. I have a lot of memories from there. But it's not where I want to spend the rest of my life.

Being home last week and driving around, I was welcomed by all those hometown sights and sounds. Coming over the Western Gateway Bridge, I was embraced by the familiarity of the Glen Sanders Mansion and Jumpin' Jacks. O'Leary's and Scotia Cinema were just as I had left them. And Wal-Mart has just as many woodchucks as usual...maybe more.

But all this familiarity can be dangerous. It creates a whirlpool effect of sorts that draws you back in and swishes you around. It seems both benevolent and inviting. It's a matter of convenience, in that you already know your surroundings and neighbors. It draws you in, as if to say, "Welcome back, we all missed you" while sneering under it's breath "We all knew you couldn't stay away for long." Metaphorically speaking, it's like the town of Spectre in Big Fish. All the locals ask Edward Bloom why he would ever leave such a warm, inviting place. Perhaps Spectre is the prime example of the Small Town Curse.

You see, back home in that small town, you feel safe. You know everybody when you walk into the grocery store, and you know the quickest route from A to B. You know when the local farm stand starts selling ears of corn, that the bars close much too early, and that each summer seems a little shorter than the last.

What you don't know is how blinding this all is. Days blend into months which blend into years. You don't see how realize time flies. With each year that passes, it gets more and more difficult to leave because of everything you've built there: a career, a reputation, a circle of friends, perhaps even a family. And I understand that the older you get, the quicker time seems to fly, no matter where you go. But it just seems different in that small town.

I have friends and people that I know will never leave my hometown. And for them, that's just fine. It worked out for my parents and some of my other relatives. It has worked out for my neighbors. But when I turned 18, I headed off to Boston for a change of scenery, maybe destined for greater things. And now, as I stand in my waning days out here, I can't help but feel a sense of fright in that I, too, will succumb to the Small Town Curse. I spent four years trying to figure out how get away, only to have to return unemployed and beaten. In going back home, I feel that I've lost the battle. I feel that I'm saying to everyone that ever told me "You can't do it" that they were right.

Glenville, NY will always hold a spot in my heart because of the time I spent there and the memories that were forged. But for me, it's not where I want to spend the rest of my life. I'm skeptical to apply for a broadcast job there, in fear that I'll never get out. I don't want to turn into an Ethan Frome. I'm still looking to avoid the Small Town Curse.

Maybe some of you out there feel the same way...