Brother, Can you Spare a Drink?

It was Homecoming this past weekend at Cornell…tailgates, football, and parties. We had spent most of Saturday evening at our sons’ school auction fundraiser, but as we were driving home by campus, Husband asked me if I wanted to stop by the “house” to say hi. They were having an open house and lots of alumni were there. Walking through his old fraternity stirred up all kinds of thoughts (pretty and perverse).


Mostly, I was amazed by how time changes everything and doesn’t change a thing. As we entered the party, everyone was seated to dinner (it was a formal night) and one of the brothers was leading the room in song:

Here's to brother (name), brother (name), brother (name)...
Here's to brother (name), who's with us tonight...
He's happy, he's jolly, he's horny, by golly!
Here's to brother (name), who's with us tonight...
So... drink, motherf*cker -- drink, motherf*cker -- drink, motherf*cker... (repeat until the bottle is empty!)

Those boys had the same gleam in their eye that every fraternity guy I have ever met has had—sort of like the familiar look you see in a sweet little puppy’s face—excitement, joy, and a desire to rub up against just about anything.

All I could think as they were passing the bottle of Jack around was, “I wonder if they worry about swine flu?”