It’s hardly likely that anyone wonders what I looked like in college, but if, on the off-chance I’m wrong, here you go, from the Trinity College (Hartford, CT) yearbook, 1977.
My wife tells me that I looked the part of an idealist–even back then. That’s kind of ironic, given that I majored in physics, a subject that doesn’t care a damn about my or anyone else’s ideals.
If I thought about combing my hair, I guess I must have dismissed the idea.
Good times! I visit the campus every couple of years, which is easy, as Hartford is on the way from New York City to Boston, a drive I’ve made many times over the years. Whenever I’m there, I make sure to walk around and talk to a few kids to get their feedback on what it’s like for them to be there.
I know I sound like an a stereotypical old fool when I tell them this at the end of the conversation, but I do it anyway: “I want you to enjoy every nanosecond of your all-too-brief time here. It’s likely that you’ll remember this experience as the best part of your life, and here’s the kicker: when each day is gone, it’s gone forever; it’s never coming back.”