Dear ‘Rents:
Whew! I left home last Friday so I could drive to Dallas and check in to my dorm at SMU. Well, I got lost and ended up on Greenville Avenue and didn’t get over to my dorm until Sunday afternoon!
You were right. I should have shaved my beard and cut the hair off my shoulders. I should have left the White farmer’s overalls and the terry cloth shirt at home, too. When I arrived that first day in Cockrell and went out in the hall to meet the guys, everyone scattered. I heard one guy whisper, “I didn’t know SMU accepted BIKERS.”
I was in solitary for the first couple of days-I hung out in my room because no one was coming by when this nice kid on the floor suggested I go over to Culwell & Son, a men’s store, and let them fix me up. I shaved and walked over there and told the barber to give me a “SMU haircut.” My hair hasn’t been this short since the sixth grade!
I went in to the clothing part of the store and told the salesman that I needed some “SMU clothes.” He came back with a stack of stuff, none of which I could afford. He said that was okay, that I could charge it all on my SMU student ID.
What I spent was kind of like a mini-student loan. I got these long-sleeve dress shirts that have buttons on the collars, some golf shirts with little alligators on the front (since Polo hasn’t been invented yet) and a couple of elastic belts with pink and green and red and navy stripes on them.
You know those tan work pants that we wear on the farm and to paint the house in, Dickies? They call them “khakis” around here and wear them to class. The sales guys asked if I owned any “Weejuns.” I told him no, but I did have a Ouija board once. He smiled and brought me a pair, along with these shoes like we used to make in Indian Guides, you know, those brown moccasins?
They call them Topsiders and you don’t wear socks with them. I don’t know. They’re supposed to be cool but they kill my feet and smell terrible after walking around all day to classes.
I came back to the dorm and all of a sudden, I had a bunch of new friends. They all slapped palms with me (because “high fives” haven’t been invented yet) and then asked me out for beers that evening.
I know you’ve wondered if I might have “an alcohol problem,” but don’t worry, there’s a Parkit Market and a State Liquor, nearby, Greenville Avenue, too, so there’s no problem getting alcohol. Besides, I only drank twice this first week: the first time was for three days and the second time was for two days.
The guys liked that I brought grandma’s home movie projector along. We showed an adult movie out the window of Cockrell and right on the girls’ dorm wall across the way, like a drive-in.
I shut it down because someone said security was nearby. I’d hate to get expelled before the first class even started! Still, it was funny, watching everyone below pointing up and yelling. I hear the fraternities like stuff like that.
Gotta go. I’m driving the guys to Cardinal Puff’s this evening. One day, they will rename it “Ozona.”
Love, Me.
Larson is an SMU alumni from the class of ’82.
