Five seconds of fury

After thouroughly saturating our clothes with the delightful smell of woodsmoke, Lucas, Tony and I returned to our apartment in Simpson, a squat, concrete block structure built sometime in the mid-1950s. Tony and I felt right at home in Simpson, and Lucas quickly made himself at home, declaring that he was "done" for the night. He promptly got ready and went to bed--a wise move on his part, but one that left Tony and me at loose ends.

We eventually decided to try to find the Phi Mu Alpha (NOT the squatters Mu Alpha house, frickin' renegades) house and see what we could see. Here I have to digress down memory lane a bit. On one of my first nights at Hillsdale college, as a wide-eyed freshman, I remember wandering the streets of Hillsdale late at night, trying to find a means to extend my evening with seven or eight guys I hardly knew, several of which were falling down drunk. One of the strongest impressions of that night for me was the curious sense of bootless freedom that pervaded the air, as if anything and everything could happen on a fall night like this one.

Fast forward seven years, where Tony and I were in the same state, minus the inebriation, natch, but wandering the streets of Hillsdale looking to see what the town had to offer us. Unfortunately for us, and for you, my readers, we didn't find anything exciting, or even very interesting. After drifiting vaguely south, we located the house with little difficulty, entered, and were shown around by an extremely polite young man, one of the new Phi Mu Alpha brothers whose name escapes me.

And, since I'm at the limit of time, this "five seconds of fury" will have to be continued tomorrow!

Next: Five Seconds of Fury . . . Continued and A Day at the Game