One of the most memorable parts about graduating from university will always be how quickly it snuck up on me. I will have to ask the others if they share this feeling or memory but when you mull it over you spend the majority of your life in school until you’re 22-25. What else do you know other than the seasonal cycles education follows? Heck, the calendar the West is set by feels rather weird because your mind tends to have the year revolve around school at age four and up (or six in my era).
It could be just me.
Well, around this time the majority of our clique earned their diplomas (Paul, Phil, Sheila and Helen) so it was time for them to graduate, pack up, leave and hit the pavement during the Reagan-Bush Recession of the early Nineties (which has proven to be nothing compared to the Bush II Recession we’re in now). Me? I had already discovered during my junior year that I was going to fall short by 12 hours the following Spring, much to the irritation of my family. I was more bummed over these friends leaving to join the grind without me.
Not much I could do about it then, just try to enjoy the remaining time I had with them. I wouldn’t be saying goodbye forever, the majority of them were going to be in the Chicago area, a mere bus or train trip from Milwaukee.
The weekend before the ceremonies was rather weird. Before Final Exams, Mission UK and the Wonder Stuff played a free concert on the main campus. I figure this was the doing of a guy named John Rubelli (if Hot Topic existed then, he’d be their spokesperson). Nice move on his part but unwise since the majority of Marquette students’ tastes were trapped in the Seventies, hence, a lot UW-Milwaukee people and high school kids looking for a fight (even then I sensed weed’s comeback in the Nineites from their stench). Carrie, Jose, Phil and I had a great time despite the weather being awful; early May in Milwaukee is often miserable. I don’t recall why Helen didn’t go, these acts were her speed. Phil was the bigger surprise since he liked Hair Metal.
Getting through my finals was a blur. I know I was stupidly taking 18 hours yet a couple probably had projects in place of tests. I am confident the grades (maybe my transcript disagrees) I earned were better than I anticipated for the sleep deprivation I was undergoing; this was the semester I foolishly took a front desk shift from 3 AM – 7 AM to get the pay differential. I ended up quitting by April in a horrible, nasty huff.
Now it was May and the excitement of Summer was spoiled. I probably thought 1990 was going to be a repeat of 1989, my personal favorite in college. I had my girlfriend Carrie but on occasion, there were things I wanted to do without her, especially when she would go into passive-aggressive-wallflower mode around these friends.
I did manage to catch Sheila, give her a card and wish her well on graduate school in California. Paul, Phil and Helen would be bumming around for senior week in the dorms. While everybody else had to move out, they let the graduates stay (or move in I think) to party. I could have the whole thing wrong too. It does seem to make little sense but I’m hoping for a little participation from Paul and Helen who were in the thick of this. Phil? I could only get his attention if this were underwater. Jose will have to fill me in on where he crashed until he scored an permanent apartment.
Before they left, we did swing one last night together hitting the Marquette bar scene (the last of them finally closed recently, Hegarty’s) and talked on what we would be doing in the near future. Paul scored a paid internship with the Southtown Economist‘s Sports section; he had been a stringer for them since high school, it was a perfect fit. He got to write something he knew really well and remain in Chicago. Phil was looking into various graduate schools to pursue an advanced degree in Science; his undergraduate was Biology. I can’t remember Phil’s options other than Illinois State which he accepted. Helen’s future was fuzzier. She had to complete one remaining course in Summer school, then Marquette would hand over her degree. The administration let her go through the pomp and circumstance to be nice. Jose was in this class too. Helen said she often found herself waking him. Sounds like a pretty dull lecturer and/or Jose suffering from the ‘itis.
Other friends? Deb accepted a nice graduate school offer in Iowa which was the goal; join her future husband Neal there. Stephanie was off to France to live with her husband. John had a law school lined up in Minnesota next Fall. Doug stayed at Marquette to get his Master’s in EE. Julie headed south to St. Louis for her advanced degree.
As for me? Swinging a safer apartment to move into the following June was my biggest accomplishment. I also got the supervisor gig in Paint Crew. The permanent guys from the shop were cool about it. They knew me, I knew the drill, so things would go smoothly. Sadly, we didn’t do any painting, only wall washing. There was enough to keep us employed through August; one can count on Schroeder for a disgusting, multi-day mess on the fifth and seventh floors. I tried to get Jose to join Pain Crew because the pay was great (for 1990). He chose to keep his plum spot in the language building. I don’t blame him. He was taking classes. I did the same but through MATC (Milwaukee Area Technical College) for a three-hour Sociology credit. It was relatively easy. I kicked myself for not doing this on previous Summers to close the 12-hour gap. To be fair to MATC and other junior colleges, it was easy because if I did the work (reading, participation) I passed. It wasn’t a “you show up, you get an A” a la some high schools. The class was similar to any 101 course I took at Marquette, it just cost 75 percent less and scoring a C or higher equalled three hours with an S. The teacher was cool, therefore I put in the effort to earn an A anyway.
I wish I could say the remainder of the Summer went as swimmingly. My relationship with Carrie seem to take precedent after working Paint Crew on weekdays. I didn’t regret this until much later, especially when I missed going to the Escape From New York concert at Summerfest with Phil and Jose; we were recuperating from the awful sunburns we received the day before toughing it out to see Depeche Mode, her decision, not mine. Then the new friend I made last Summer, Doc accepted an offer to work at Lamar University (now known as Texas A&M-Beaumont). This I didn’t begrudge him for taking. Marquette’s ingrained prejudice against non-Catholics was a major factor; never mind the inept Catholics ORL kept around. I never thought I would be thanking Marquette’s nepotism in the long run because Doc’s departure led to my life changing for the better four years later.
It wasn’t a miserable Summer. It was a letdown in light of how much 1989 rocked! Carrie and I had fun nonetheless: movies, Nintendo games, dining, dancing, drinking, music and all the other crap we did normally. My cousin Leesa and her husband Joe even joined us to celebrate my 22nd birthday. The new apartment gave me peace of mind too; it was way less prone to being broken into. My circle of friends was tightening up to becoming almost nobody but Carrie (she didn’t have any from college left). Her insane jealousy issues started surfacing more frequently too.
This is why my relationship and marriage to Somara is awesome; Somara doesn’t feel threatened by the other female friends, co-worker and acquaintances I have (ask her about the Ice Girl Sarah). She knows I’m not a two-timing weasel (I’m too lazy to do such a thing!), a major reason why she left to work four months away in Phoenix without worry. Carrie’s head would’ve exploded years ago in Austin, especially with all the openly gay men here too (some feel threatened by everybody!). OK, the last statement isn’t fair to Carrie. She’d never live farther than 100 miles away from Chicago anyway to experience such trauma. Thankfully our relationship ended a year later. I would hate to have an ex-wife tacked on to my biography.
Back to the tightening thing.
I could just see my life starting to parallel my parents’ by matters turning into just Carrie and me. This was something which grew to be unacceptable for me. We had a major fight around August over it. When it was patched up, I started rectifying it by hanging with Jose more often and a couple other friends I made through Paint Crew.
Then Iraq invaded Kuwait. This certainly made all my other problems appear rather unimportant with the possibility of a draft looming at the end of the calendar year.
I know this date was probably May 13, 1990 but it took place on a Sunday like this one. Twenty years later, life has worked out for the better with the majority of us: marriages, children, new cities (nobody resides in Milwaukee) and different careers. Despite the uncertainty, it was a bittersweet time filled with potential I was jealous about being excluded from for another seven months.
