Some are Born with Roommates, Some have Roommates Thrust Upon Them…
By Wink
I had several roommates in college. Each was a variation on the concept of ‘weird,’ but they were all pretty smart.
Now that I think about it, they were probably all smarter than me. That is a disheartening revelation this late in life, but at least I learned a lot from them.
My first roomie was an artist from small-town Nebraska. Relentlessly positive, and fascinated with how ‘normal’ people would react to abnormal situations. His nutty way of looking at the world helped pull me through my tough freshman year.
One roommate was an American-born French dude. He grew up in Houston and was very ‘worldly.’ A pretty big Led Zeppelin fan, but we all have our quirks.
One was a musically-gifted gay guy. I never figured out he was gay while we roomed together, but that just shows how naïve I was. (I was young and stupid, but I am proud to say I have finally shed that ‘young’ label.) The signs were all there. He, too, was from a small town. I can’t imagine the psychosis that would have been created growing up in a small town knowing you were gay, and knowing everybody would hate you (and worse) if you admitted it. Gays, in the 70’s, were loathe to come out.
One roommate was a big-city guy who came from money. His affection for jazz and recreational drugs made it seem like he was desperate to appear ‘cool.’ Dorm rooms are never big enough for two people, but he also had a stand-up acoustic bass, to help occupy more space. ‘Beatnik’ may be the word that best describes him. I can’t help but think, for all his counter-culture efforting, that he is probably now on the corporate ladder somewhere.
When I moved off campus I roomed with two other guys, one a military guy, a courteous and helpful ‘straight arrow.’ No doubt, the most honest person I ever known (which means I should make some effort to hang with a better crowd). The other? He was a fantasy/sci-fi fanatic, tennis player and wordsmith, with many-many other interests.… just a bit too hard to define.
All were nice, none were jerks.
I only mention this because I did a web search for my first roomie, the artist, and was lucky enough to find him.
He now lives in a different state, hundreds of miles from here, but he is still an artist. Thank God, because that is what he was meant to do.
In this internet age it is almost unremarkable that he and I have been able to rekindle this friendship.
I am not desperate to find all my old friends, but some are worth the effort.
Do yourself a favor. Dig into your memory banks. Find someone who, long ago, really made a difference in your life.
Find them and thank them. Nothing more is needed.
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