An anonymous letter
Bring me back to the good old days, where pranks were abundant and funny. Bring me back to when engineering students stole all of the toilet handles on the Concordia campus so that no one could flush the toilets. Bring me back to when engineering students painted the roof of the arts building orange, or bring me back to when they unscrewed all of the chairs in Leacock 132.
Please, bring me back to when E-Week wasn’t dictated by money, but by the reach of one’s imagination. When the chariot races were with insane chariots (oh yeah, they went all out and actually attached motors). Bring me back to when engineers closed down Rue Sherbrooke to play soccer for E-Week. Bring me back to when people thought of new things to do instead of doing the same things every day. Bring me back the great minds who founded Blues Pub and E-Week, those great minds who found the fun in any situation and built from there.
Where did those good old days go? Are they hiding behind the big cultural changes of this past decade? Are they hiding behind selfish ideal? Are they, perhaps, hiding behind the boxes of old yearbooks in the game room? I truly do not know. Many days I have sat down and read all of those yearbooks, all those not lost, but forgotten by the waves of time—the only Hot Mama left to remember them in all their glory having recently retired. What will happen to me when I grow old? Will I also be forgotten? Will my name not be remembered?
Why am I talking about all these things like I knew them? All I know are stories. Fuck bringing me back. Let me make my own story, my own legend, my own myth. After all, I have the time, I have the passion, I have the ambition.
Although my experience hasn’t been like a scene out of Animal House, maybe that’s for the best. After all, Frosh was LIT cuz *dab* — I mean Frosh was definitely a new and exciting experience. Who knows what kind of problems were present during the events of old? Anyways, I got to go back to rez.
A Nostalgic First Year
Engineering Student †