Countdown to Homecoming: A Call to Court Street

Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras. Venice Beach when Matthew McConaughey goes on a shirtless run. All pale in comparison to Ohio University in the fall. And spring. And summer. And winter.

It has been nearly a fortnight since I soaked in the magical ambience of Athens. And by “fortnight” I don’t mean the literal definition of 14 days; rather, in the “I haven’t been there in a really long-ass time and lack the creativity to produce another word to enlighten this vacancy” sense. William Shakespeare once penned, “Absence from those we love is self from self - a deadly banishment.” Far be it from me to contradict such wisdom. Regardless of what society may try to suppress, this Bobcat’s fire flames eternal. In short: it is time to commence the preparations for the pilgrimage to the Promised Land once more.

Make no mistake, we are facing the most menacing of adversaries. Despite humanity’s advancement against aging, Father Time remains undefeated. This state of affairs is manifesting in marriages, moves, job changes and an alarming increase in sobriety. Worse, though we’d like to envision ourselves as still in our prime, more than likely, we’re in that Alonzo-Mourning-in-his-second-stint-with-the-Heat stage. And the fact that I just made such a comparison brings tears to my eyes, like that Indian who sees trash on the road or when Whitehead found out they were closing the Junction.

Yet I’ll be goddamned if I’m not going down swinging. Once a year, this wonderful weekend serves as a time machine. Not necessarily like a DeLorean in a Back to the Future portal where we can somehow change the present, but more in a Terminator 2 perspective where we can wreak havoc and carnage without the help of a basic plot or narrative but everyone agrees it’s kick-ass anyway. And as life only gives you so few chances to relive the glory that all of us experienced in Athens, its damn-near criminal to let the opportunity pass by.

I want to say I’ll be entering God’s Country next Friday afternoon; this would be erroneous, however, as in this man’s mind, I’m already there.