blog.big-woop.com

Here's to stealing campus bikes and going for midnight rides. Here's to the sunrise. Here's to modern art. To drugs and alcohol. Here's to Van Morrison, the Streets, and to everything we listened to on the road. Here's to a pair of the most amazing trips I've ever had the pleasure of knowing—Steep Grades, Sharp Curves, rocks and canyons and oil changes. Here's to over ten-thousand miles and eighteen states (and two provinces) in less than two semesters. Here's to the backcountry. Here's to all-nighters, headaches, and bureaucratic bullshit. Here's to Noah Milligan. Here's to Paul Brown. Here's to Charlie motherfucking Smith! Here's to pop music and the American landscape. Here's to black and white photography. Here's to everyone caught crossing eighth avenue with open containers, and only getting shit for it one fateful night in September. Here's to getting the school to buy us snacks as punishment. Here's to black coffee, Swedish Fish, and animal crackers. Here's to the 'brary. Here's to Bucksbaum. Here's to Cowles Hall and Soulquad housing tenement (and barbershop). Here's to Fair Ladies and my good friend Andrew Ridgeley. Here's to the flying saltine. To 1/11/05 and The Big Wu. To Umphrey's. To the Grateful fucking Dead. To Cleveland Pit. To disc golf and gloating about my hole in one. To righteous indignation. To Beer! To last night's midnight Perkin's run and to almost getting in a fight with—or wailed on by—that drunken white trash who told me to get a haircut (and a real job). To the gang, the crew, the entourage. Here's to the bad things that didn't happen. And to the good things that did. Here's to Karly, whom I'm really going to miss.

Here's to Twins games, grilling out, lemonade and watermelon. Here's to even more sweet music festivals. Here's to summer reading and the front porch. Here's to Mickey's. Here's to Pfrommer. Here's to ridiculousness of the zany variety. To the railroad bridge. To 69¢ soft drinks? To uncontrollable laughter and intense discussion over a Hamm's or a Leinie's. Here's to hanging with all you rubes again.