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SYNDICATED COLUMNIST
This year, my eldest and most expensive daughter embarked on her senior year at Texas A&M University - and my wife and I embarked on another year of wondering whether or not credit cards can actually implode from overuse.
Having a senior Aggie daughter has made me wistful about my own time at this storied university, when I, too, did my best to ensure that my parents couldn’t retire until they reached their late hundreds.
My love for all things Aggie began at a Texas A&M football game when my wife and I were still dating and visiting my big brother, who was already a student there. It was then that I was introduced to Texas A&M’s greatest tradition - that when the Texas A&M football team scores, so do you-with a kiss from your date -on the lips even. (Never sit beside someone’s emotional- support schnauzer, by the way.)
Luckily for me, Texas A&M defeated the SMU Mustangs 63-14 that day, and I spent the next week overdosing on Chapstick.
Unlike most college students, my wife and I entered Texas A&M as a married couple. After two years of dating, while we were attending community college, I figured I had better seal the deal before she figured me out or met some university stud with actual muscles.
Our parents agreed to help us with tuition and living expenses as long as we promised to live within our means, which meant that we ate Kraft macaroni and cheese by the cargo container, and I had to limit my intake of restaurant Tex-Mex to twice a week.
Speaking of Tex-Mex, one of my first classes at Texas A&M was Spanish, which I felt pretty confident about due to my vast experience identifying menu items by name. I knew I was in trouble, though, when I was writing my name, “Jase Graves,” on the sign-in sheet. I noticed that most of the names already on the sheet were of Spanish origin, and most students seated around me were fluently “habla-ing” the “Español” with one another. My confidence evaporated further when the professor announced that the first day would be the last time she would speak any English in class. The death knell came when she called roll with our sign-in sheet and pronounced my name, “José Gravez.” Although I dropped the class, I still go by that name when I’m eating chips and salsa.
Another interesting class I took and actually managed to finish was Speech Communication Theory. (Yes, this was an actual college course that my parents paid actual money for.) Also attending this class was an Aggie Corps member, the Texas A&M mascot corporal, who was always accompanied by our mascot, a collie named Reveille V. Tradition has it that if Reveille barks during class, the students are to be immediately dismissed. Despite our best efforts with dog whistles and fervent prayers to the spirits of all annoying yapping dogs, Reveille remained perfectly silent and still all semester long - except for occasionally licking herself.
I can’t say the same for the enormous Texas A&M football defensive lineman who sat directly behind me. He never licked himself as far as I know, but his heavy breathing sounded like that of a hangry grizzly bear, and he regularly asked me if he could borrow my notes. Since he could have killed me using only his earlobes, I kindly obliged. (Heck, I sort of considered myself part of the football team at that point.)
My days at Texas A&M were some of the most challenging, but greatest times of my life. And soon, my wife and I hope to be celebrating with another Aggie graduate in the family. We’ll probably all go out for a big Tex-Mex dinner, so if you see me, just call me José Gravez.
