August 9, 1996 Friday
Yesterday I traveled to Western Illinois University with Mom and Nicole. Mom’s really pulling for the college. She told me stories of going there in the late Sixties, where she got an English degree to be a teacher. She told be about Grandma making her five dresses, one for each day of classes. It was the same pattern but each made of different fabrics. She told me about small groups going to relax at a place outside of Macomb called Argyle Lake, and music being played in the halls like “I Heard it Through the Grapevine” and the Beatles. When I asked if she remembered any war protests or hippies her stories quickly ended. She doesn’t remember much of that time, at least of the local culture, because she was always in her room or the library studying–not even what used to be on TV. The story I’ll probably remember her saying there was a professor who, at the end of the sememster, announced to the class that the students could select the final grade they felt they had earned. Because Mom couldn’t bring herself to award herself an A, she opted for a B+. She said it was the only B she ever got.
Still, I don’t know how much better it is than any other school. I scored a 24 on my ACT, so acceptance to most area universities is not a problem. If I went to Western I have myself getting a bachelor’s of Business and then a master’s in sports administration. Western also has a satellite campus in the Quad Cities where I could intern with the Class A ball club.
As I see my future start to form, I know there are still things I must do. Perhaps the most important is getting my driver’s license. I went once during the spring of ’95, but I was still intimidated by driving. I wonder if this goes back to my mower accident when I was three (“Let’s Start from the Beginning”), and I see how mechanical things can go aray. Now I feel much more confident, but sometimes, in the back of my mind, I think I am going to miss something, like a kid running out in the street after a ball. I guess that goes back to the above story too. Not that I think anything will happen, just could. All it takes is a few seconds for anything to happen. Everyone takes that risk when they drive. Yet, I also know that knowledge compounded by experience, I will eventually be a good driver. I must, however, have my license by next week.
Overall, I will be happy to be back in school. World History and Journalism sounds the most interesting. It will, of course, be nice to be a senior, one of the 44 oldest ones. Though I can’t forget that this time next year I will again be a (lowly?) freshman.
Here I sit, trying to think of what to write about. Mostly, my days aren’t all that full. At home there’s always a dishwasher to fill or empty, a Cubs game on, but little other than that. To cure the boredom, I sometimes think a trip to Peoria or Galesbug is in order, but once I arrive there it seems kinda empty, because I’ve done it so many times before.
Not that I haven’t gone interesting places this summer. I went to Walt Disney World on vacation, and to Wisconsin for Bears camp with Hoke. Recently, I was in Iowa and then Macomb. Hoke has also taken me out to his acreage his family owns, where they have bought and placed real caboose as a kind of clubhouse or metal cabin, as well as to Colorado last January. So perhaps it’s not simply travel, and I’m not explaining myself well, or know myself. Even so, sometimes I just feel… like I’m missing out on something. Dad says all I need is my license, but again I really can’t think of just a destination near-by that would make me feeling differently.
I try to do things around the house for entertainment. Working on the computer takes up some time (“taking up time,” seems pretty wasteful, doesn’t it?), as well as reading, drawing, and dreaming.
The last page I wrote was about nothing, and I’m still rambling on…