Sons of Motherless Goats

It's that time of year again. Another wonderfully quiet summer in Aggieland has come to and end as the undergrads swarm back into town. Last weekend I made the mistake of going to Sam's and Wal-mart, but wrote the crowds off to the tax-free weekend. It was only after I was back home that I realized my stupidity of venturing out on the biggest move-in weekend.

Learning from my mistake I kept of my bicycle all week and rode the bus to and from school. Since the undergrads aren't venturing around campus much this allowed me to remain blissfully ignorant of the carnage being wrought on the streets and in the discount stores around town. I was lulled back into a false sense of contentedness.

My bubble was totally shattered yesterday when I went to HEB at 4pm. The masses of students made me seriously think about leaving immediately and not returning until after midnight. If they weren't on their cell phone finding out where the party was and what kind of chips and beer to buy they were debating the cost effectiveness of different brands of instant noodles and toilet paper with their roomies. A store full of people completely unaware of those around them. I've seen demolition derbies where the driving was better.

As I wove through the mass of humanity I tried to keep my swearing internalized (Princess Ana was with me or I wouldn't have tried nearly as hard) the insults of the Three Amigos came to mind. I muttered a few and chuckled, but then swore in earnest when I realized that most of these young 'uns probably had only seen bits and pieces of this comedic masterpiece while channel surfing. IMDB confirms my fear... only the students that are juniors and older were even alive when the Three Amigos rode on to the big screen.

And so another year begins with me being reminded just how old I am.