I don't know about you guys but I had a rather extraordinary Halloween. I went as a Bitter Senior Dude with strep throat, who stayed in his room, watched (the crappy) "Halloween" sequels, and contemplated the possibility of suicide by cough drop consumption. You wouldn't believe it but almost no one could guess who I was, which surprised me, because I mean... come on... bitter guy with strep throat who doesn't go out? ... duh!
As a result of my costume choice I didn't get a look at this year's crop, so you'll have to excuse the fact that I haven't made a "slutty mouse costume" joke yet. I know it's kind of a law these days to crack wise jokes about that phenomenon, but sadly my hermitage precludes my knowing if this year was the year of the "slutty nurse" or the year of the "slutty member of the justice department." And since I avoid looking un-hip at pretty much all costs, (hi iTunes library) I'm going to have to pass on passing judgment.
The one thing I did notice was that all these aggressive TDX party blitzes and "sexy hobbit" costumes wound up drawing our attention away from the real important event of the weekend: President Wright's annual State of the College Report. Lucky for you guys I paid someone to read it aloud to me while I held pong practice this morning, so I have a pretty good idea of what it was about. On the whole I think it was mostly: "Blah blah sorry we brawled with Holy Cross after losing the Homecoming Game blah blah sorry all our professors and deans are high-tailing it to better jobs at more reputable institutions blah blah sorry our campus is a pool of adequacy and stagnation that sinks highly-motivated achievers into a briny sea of drunkenness, engendering an atmosphere that feeds off the naivete of the incoming classes, whose desperation to fit in continues to fuel an academic climate that values bare minimal achievement above all else blah blah please give us money." And while all that is just about as lively and engaging as a Fieldstock Highlight Reel, I was struck by one glaring omission: Me.
My high school public speaking teacher always said that it was important to cater to your audience. Well that must have been the class after lunch that President Wright used to skip, because I didn't see one "Tom Kidera" mention in the whole speech. And I'm telling you, I skimmed it sort of closely. I'm your role-dog J-Dubs, give me some love. Look at the facetime I'm giving you right now.
This travesty got me thinking. Who reads my column? (Please God not President Wright.) Shouldn't I be catering this drivel towards them? I asked around and found out that my readership spans the globe from my hometown of Rochester, N.Y., all the way to Marlborough, Conn., and includes both of my parents and even my sister too. And as I've never spoken to them about anything other than myself, I'm going to cater to what they want to hear and give you, The State of Tom Kidera Report:
Future -- On a scale from Bleak to Terrell Owens Supplement Overdose I would say I'm coming in at around a Ryan Seacrest's Film Aspirations right about now. Not good. The law school applications are mostly done or in the mail, and I'm expecting a series of laughing telegrams any day now in response. In terms of fall-back opportunities in the employment sector (I'm not gonna get too selective yet), I can proudly say I am qualified to both wait tables and work a grocery store cash register.
General Health/Physical Plant -- Not currently in my best phase of maturation. I would say this has to be a sort of hybrid pupa-larvae stage. Hopefully, I'll emerge as the butterfly my mother still tells me I am sometime before my college career comes to a close. I recognize that four years of binge drinking and Red Bull-fueled all-nighters has taken its toll. Just give me a heads up when I start edging into Rob Esposito territory.
Coolness -- Luckily my coolness is at an all-time high. Just ask anybody. Seriously, ask anybody. And yo, when you do, could do me a favor and e-mail me with what they say. Nah, no real reason, I'm just sort of curious... Please love me.
This self-loathing chug-fest could probably go on for another page or two, but luckily for my sanity this thing has a word limit, so on that note I thank you for listening and wish you an adventurous weekend. I really feel a lot better now.
