By Gunarso Nguyen
Until this summer, it had been close to 6 years since I last set foot on the CCSU campus.
Six years since boredom and listlessness had driven me to don a United States Coast Guard uniform. Less than 2 years since I quit wearing the Army one to avoid a second tour in Iraq. You never truly quit wearing a uniform, and I’m mildly resentful of that fact.
“It’s never the place, it’s the person,” a wiser head than mine had once said, and I’m inclined to agree.
The campus has had little change, that I can tell, but I’ve never been the most observant of individuals. Whole marriages have dissolved next door to me, worlds turn and shake and disappear and presidential administrations change when I’m not paying attention, not exactly an uncommon occurrence.
Hot steam still vents from the grate between the Copernicus and Memorial, lending a curiously industrial feel to the otherwise idyllic atmosphere the administration tries to portray.
People are still playing Magic:The Gathering and Pokemon in the student center, occasionally punctuated loudly with talk of Dungeons and Dragons and anime, though perhaps in differing ratios as the years progress. There was more Magic than Pokemon in the old days.
The administration runs a bit more smoothly, perhaps, but largely I find that the old maxim about people and places holds true.
Four weeks into a school schedule and already I find myself slipping into old habits like a well worn jacket. My nerves are raw and exposed, enough caffeine saturates my system to kill several small rodents, and there are days when there is literally no one I don’t hate.
Central is reliable and boring. It lacks in the heavy drama of sports related mishaps and administrative debacles that seem to characterize other schools, like a boring parent taken for granted. The few that do occur here seem muted, grayed out and dull in comparison, or perhaps, once again, I’m just not paying attention.
Little seems to have really changed in the six years I’ve been gone, save for the cost and a few faces, and that’s largely a comfort.
One of the ladies who works behind the counter at the grille recognized me, despite the plethora of follicular growth I’ve cultivated. It was a strange and surreal moment, especially given that I half-remembered her face, too. The one person who recognized me is the person who keeps me supplied with caffeine and calories.
“Yeah, I went and joined the Coast Guard for four years,” I told her, shocked that anyone would recognize me.
“Wow, it’s been a long time.”
It has been a long time. Nothing important has really changed, and I have the sneaking suspicion that Central will be here in perpetuity, long after the apocalypse of your choice will end us all.
Well, almost nothing has changed. How the hell do I get into the parking lot behind Copernicus now?