By CLAY MERCER
When I was eighteen my parents shoved my feet into a pair of cowboy boots and sent me to college. To be exact, they sent me to Presbyterian College in Clinton, South Carolina, a spectacular liberal arts college in the “little ivy” league.
The little ivy league contains those schools that rank considerably higher than the “kudzu league” schools in the Carolina piedmont and marginally below the Ivy League schools of the northeast.
In short, I was exposed to a widely diverse student population in a setting that practically demanded that I maintain a first name basis with everybody on campus. With less than a thousand full time students, and a twenty-two acre campus, it was impossible not to know each other.
I made friends with people who were, literally, from every continent in the world, except Antarctica. And some of my acquaintances that majored in biology went on to Antarctica after finishing. I had the only pair of cowboy boots on campus.
The Carolina piedmont is vastly different from South Georgia. For one thing, it gets cold in September and doesn’t warm up again until April. It also rains a lot. A LOT.
For another thing, the water tastes funny. I used to have dreams about the well water back home. There aren’t very many dirt roads in the Carolina piedmont, and believe me, I looked. They make up for the shortage of dirt roads by having lots of snow, so people can still experience sliding into ditches and trees without having to be way out in the country where no one can help them.
The main thing I learned at Presbyterian College was that I wanted to go home to South Georgia to live.
After I learned to quit wearing my cowboy boots in public, I found out that there were lots of advantages to being “off at school.” For one thing, that five hour drive which kept me from zipping home for the weekend also kept my parents from zipping over to snatch a knot in my butt whenever I got a low mark on an exam. How convenient.
Another positive was the Hound’s Tooth lounge, which offered, among other recreational choices, billiards, bumper pool, pinball, and draft beer for two bucks a pitcher. Except for Thursday night, Ladies Night, when draft was a buck a pitcher and ladies were…..well, some things are better left unsaid.
The down side to all this was the class work. As a freshman, and a second-class citizen, I suffered through English literature, mathematics, physical education, biology, and religion. Yes, Religion. Religion 101, Old Testament Survey and Religion 102, New Testament Survey were required courses.
My freshman adviser, Mr. Tom Stallworth, was also my professor for Religion 101 and 102. He was keenly aware of my desire to major in business administration. Once, on an essay question, I misspelled the word “burro” and spelled it instead as “burrow”.
Mr. Stallworth’s correction still reverberates in my mind. “Clay, a burrow is a hole in the ground. The word you intended was ‘burro’, which is an ass. As a prospective business major, you will be expected to know the difference.”
Opinion
Life, liberty, and….higher education?
- Opinion
-
-
Former track star humbled
Dear Editor:
I truly appreciate the Cordele Dispatch allowing me this space today to extend a “thank you” forty years late. -
Mr. Man is peculiar
Men are peculiar creatures. I suppose, now that I’ve laid that provocative declaration on the table, you’ll want solid proof to back it up, though proving it will not be a difficult task; all I have to do is point to…Mr. Man.
-
Life, liberty, and .….accessories?
Spartanburg, South Carolina, is not the cultural center of the universe. I am qualified to make that statement based on my experiences in Spartanburg which include The Hearon Traffic Circle, The Midnight Sun, and Wofford College.
-
Watch for motorcycles
Editor:
May is recognized as Motorcycle Safety Awareness Month, and Leather and Lace MC would like to take this opportunity to address both safety and awareness. -
Mr. Man and childhood obesity
Mr. Man has a fat grandson. The kid lives in Texas, so we rarely see him, but according to pictures on Facebook, he is fat.
-
Life, liberty, and .….springtime?
Spring is officially here. I don’t care about the calendar, the baseball season, the basketball playoffs, Easter, when the Confederate Jasmine blooms, when the robins come through, when the sand hill cranes fly, or what the temperature does.
-
TSPLOST questions & answers
What does TSPLOST stand for?
-
Victim thanks officers
(A story about a robbery at gunpoint ran in Thursday’s Cordele Dispatch. As is the paper’s policy, the victim was not identified. He submitted a letter of thanks, but asked that he still not be identified.
We are honoring his request because of the circumstances. Sheriff Donnie Haralson and other officers know who he is). -
Life, liberty, and …vacations?
Vacations are a time to get away and escape the humdrum of your normal life. Some couples I know like to take a trip about once a quarter, just get out of town.
-
Mr. Man and spilled milk
We’ve come a long way, baby, but women are still second class citizens...I haven’t heard Helen Reddy roar in quite a while.
- More Opinion Headlines
-
Former track star humbled
Serial Stabbings Suspect Guilty of Murder
Facebook Shares Continue Negative Slide
8 Hurt in Oklahoma Shooting After NBA Playoff
US Airways: Diverted Flight Has 'Landed Safely'
A Few Odd Business Sparks but Europe Gloomy
Revived Focus on Regulation After JPMorgan Loss
Gerard Butler: the Good, the Bad and the Cannes
At Least 25 Dead in India Train Collision
Raw Video: Private Rocket Blasts Off
Boy to Rescuers: 'Do You Have a Plan?'
Doctors and Devotees Debate Barefoot Running
Blacks Seek to Find Their Own Missing
Houston Museum Unveils $85 Million Dinosaur Hall
Chicago Police: 90 Arrested in NATO Protests
Ex-Rutgers Student Gets 30 Days in Webcam Case
Obama Sees Inspiration in Joplin Graduates
Raw Video: Man Saved After Niagara Falls Plunge
NATO: Afghan Exit 'Irreversible'
Catholic Groups Sue Over Contraception Mandate
4 Arrested After Man's Beating at Dodger Stadium
