Oops, maybe buggering was a bad term. My father wasn’t Jerry Sandusky.
My parents and especially my father had a plan for me and that was to do what he did, to be an airline pilot. From an early age, I just lacked the desire, want or interest to do that. I never much liked airplanes in the first place and I was more or less forced to learn how to fly airplanes. The man never took a hint. I had access to planes when I was in high school, which I rarely flew and only did when my parents pestered me to do it. I was seen as lazy, or depressed or something wrong with me.
I went to the University of Mississippi. Now, I like the state of Mississippi very much. I consider it a home state since I went to school there and owned property there, and actually for some who like the lifestyle, Mississippi can be a decent state to live, and yes, the state has “grown up” a lot.
I went to the University of Mississippi. I graduated there, but I would be the first to say that I did not like the school very much. For one, it was too Greek. Something like 45% of the student body was in an exclusive members only club which discriminated against blacks and other minorities and this was allowed by the University. I did that my freshman year, and out of 12 houses, only the three worst geek, take anyone frats offered me a bid. That was a huge rejection and 26 years later, I remember that day like it was yesterday, with the bastard “Dean of Students” saying that this was a path to adulthood or some crap like that, and I was just a heartbroken teen wanting to fit in there.
I joined a smaller frat, who unfortunately took in a motherfucker I pledged with who for some reason, hated me and slowly got the other members to ostrasize me from the group. A lot of the other guys were OK, but this motherfucker (and this is the only name I can apply to him), even as a pledge, worked to kick out people that he found unworthy to be in the same group as him. He killed a large fish in a tank of my “Big Brother” who was a bit different like me and he split. Motherfucker shot bottle rockets under my door (lived in the House), and did other shit to me including physical assault and I moved out. Then he started doing the same crap to others to the point where he became President of the frat.
Of all the people I have known in my 44 years of life, I hate this person more than anyone I have ever known. I know that Straight Dope is a strict board, so I will refrain from my deepest fantasies of what I would like to do to him even now. To me it was a thing with me of constant rejection, of “What is wrong with me?”
Funny thing is that the fraternity itself went asunder under his reign. The fraternity on the campus died for about 15 years and has been brought back to life, and it seems that it is turning to a healthy fraternity. Problem is that the same motherfucker, at 44 years of age, has taken a position with the national fraternity and is an adult advisor. I happened to look up his name Googling and there he was. He’s successful. Got a Masters degree (he was an excellent student, another sociopathic thing he held over people like me who were struggling to get by). When I saw his name, how sucessful he has been and now he is an advisor to the old frat (which means he was proud of his bullshit in his undergrad days), I was sick, pissed off and angry. Lot of dead weight in my head concerning him. It’s easy to just say “Fuck him” and move on, but it’s not.
In the years I was at Ole Miss, one pledge died after alcohol poisoning and/or falling down the stairs. The game was that the pledge had to find their “big brother” (or upperclassmen mentor). If the pledge asked an upperclassmen if they were his Big Brother and the guy said no, he would have to take a shot of booze. Well, the big frats (and that one) had about 75 members, and not even Iron Mike Tyson coked out of his mind can drink 75 shots of booze. The kid was dead. 18. (1968-1986). Sorry. The frat was "suspended’ for a time and then back to business like nothing happened. Another frat took their pledges up to a historically black college (a poor school at that) thirty miles away (Holly Springs Ms., Rust College) where they dumped the pledges off, with something about them (either nigger written on them, or them in blackface, whatever) that was fouhd out and caused a stink. Another frat lost its charter for a generation (4 years) for some other kind of bullshit. I hated these frats because to me they really fractured what could be a good student body, and U of M could have been a nice, laid back school if it wasn’t for these all white clubs, operating on University property owned by the state of Mississippi which was 35% black. This wasn’t the 50’s. It was the late 1980’s.
To this day, I eschew entering or joining clubs, groups or organizations. I do not wish to be part of a group.
Like I said, my father had this dream of me being a Navy Pilot or some shit and made me join the ROTC, which furthered my depression and anxiety. I am not military material at all. I am not patriotic, not in shape, have zero interest in a military career and only did this shit because my father paid the tuition. I did it for a semester. Uniform day was (and is) on Thursday, with marching, saluting, inspection. It was strict for a state college program. I was also overweight, in which I was forced to do P.T. (physical training) three days a week where I was to run three miles at 7 AM, which made me dog ass tired coming home and sleeping through class even if I went. I was weighed, had it recorded and all that. Then they were assholes about my hair length. My hair was not long in the least. Basically I kept it as short or long as I dared to keep them off my back, but they did not want any hair touching the ears or collars. Well, I did not want to be bald. I look like Curley Howard bald. I look stupid bald. These guys were a fraternity amongst themselves and actually charged an activity fee for their bashes that I refused to pay which pissed them off (I endured their PT, wearing that ugly uniform a certain way and shaved my beautiful blonde hair off, fuck you, I dont want to party with you.) I was actually “court martialed” by the end of the term for my lack of paying the fees and my general apathy of the whole thing.
There were a few guys who wanted this, but could not hack it. One guy I partied with was this BIG, obese fellow who WANTED to be in the military, wanted a commission, was smart, but was (I think) somewhat poor and middle class and this ROTC scholarship was his way to go to school. But he could not lose the weight. It’s hard to do so, and I understand that the military must have physical requirements. He lost that scholarship his second year. He wanted this, I could not have cared less.
For the record, I respect the military. SEMPER FI! If I was in superman shape, I would not mind doing a Marine boot camp. But even if I was in superman shape and could outrun the Gunny and the unit, it’s more than that. It’s abaout discipline. Talking orders. Never question authority (which is diametrically opposed to my first commandment, “Always question authority”). It’s not so much them being dicks, it was me being almost forced into this by my father and my meekly going along with it so as to keep him happy.
I quit the ROTC shit and left that frat the next semester (or ran away/forced out whatever). I joined the “Independents”, kids who weren’t Greek, or were sort of and were disillusioned with it. I hated these people running for campus election, the clubs supported their own and ran everything.
I have to place some blame on myself though. I was a weird kid and am still somewhat a strange adult. I never “fit in” anywhere. The only crowd that took me in the end were the drop out, drunk, drug using people, who were either on the outs or people who weren’t students at all. My grades were barely passing because I had no passion about anything, didn’t know what to study, and frankly was a crappy high school student who frankly barely graduated high school even with two credits of shop. I really could not quit college though.
The classes did not interest me. Of course, college (even Ole Miss) was harder and more demanding in High School. A lot of the classes to me were boring and pointless. I began as a business major and had to choose a Freshman science class, the first semester I took Astronomy, which I thought would be cool but was boring as shit and believe or not a class one had to study though (although a fond memory was going to the literally ancient observatory which was built in the 1800’s, one evening and climbing a tall ass step ladder to see Mars and Jupiter through a 19th Century lens) My other science class was Geology, which had a lab. Fuck this class sucked and was boring. Once a week, we had lab in the basement, with a bunch of Business majors looking at dirty ass rocks and identifying what it was and having tests on the subject that no one was interested in beyond a grade. Another big bullshit class was Art History. Lots of studying to learn when some stupid painting was painted and who did the painting and when and where. Again, business and non art students having to take this class not to learn anything, but only because it was required (which to me is nothing but profiteering by the Uni maked in a “well rounded education”.
Did I have some good times there? Hell yes! I had some great professors (some fucking assholes to, but they are everywhere), I did have a few friends. I learned to fall in love with college football (Ole Miss sucks, but they did post a 9-2 year once and went to their bowl game). But I just wasnt happy there. I wanted to go to what was then Memphis State, the city University in my hometown. Again, my parents and especially my father did not want me to go there. All he saw of Ole Miss was a nicely trimmed old Southern campus, which to Ole Miss’ defense, did have a lot of famous alumni and had some very good programs. I was just a wrong fit there.
Lastly (I promise) I wish two things would have happened in 1985. First, I would be allowed to have a “rest year”. Spend the year travelling, looking into careers and opportunities, and seeing what something I may want to do without parental pressure. I also wish the internet was around like it is now in 1985. I could have sat and looked at, explored and studied all my options and see what I want to do and where I want to do it. Between my high school graduation and my 13th grade, I was in an airport with my parents taking a trip somewhere where my mother and I were talking about classes I would be interested in, with me excited somewhat about college, but just clueless in what I want to take. A man my parents age overheard the conversation and was of the opinion that I need to know what the hell I wanted to do before my parents should pay for it instead of them paying for it and me not wanting to know what I wanted to do. I became a business major because my father wanted me too. But I quickly found out 1 1/2 terms in that the math classes required would be too much for my minimal math education in high school. Finally, after two years in, I went to a dean’s office, looked through the book and found a random degree with classes that I think I could pass to just get a damned degree in something. I think this is the problem now, many Baby Boomer parents (*as well as Gen X parents, we gettin’ old people!) made their money and are now sending their kids to college because college is now the only door besides service work or the military. Problem is that a lot of kids dont know what the fuck they want to do. We churn out a lot of 22 year old kids with student debt with not much to show for it.
It impressed me that a former Ole Miss QB led his team in a recent Superbowl (Eli Manning, NY Giants). His older brother Peyton eschewed Ole Miss since they were on probation. I understand that, but the dickhead went to an SEC rival, Tennessee (he could have went to Michigan, his second choice), His daddy Archie, someone lionized at Ole Miss helped do that, which only strengthend by belief that even for an alumni, Ole Miss is only as good until something better comes a callin’. Some loyalty (rolls eyeballs:rolleyes:) This was my perception of my Uni.
Long post.
Zheng
