By Bob Bridge, Columnist
”The great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.”
- Ralph W. Emerson
I attended Indiana University during the early 1970s. It was an extraordinary era.
Imagine freedom of expression on steroids. Young people were so bold and doggedly determined to change America.
Recently I reflected on my early semesters on campus, especially the years of residence in McNutt Quad, a coed dormitory.
I recalled, in great detail, streaking, music, the passionate political environment, an oil crisis, and the divisive conflict in Vietnam.
It’s fair to describe those years as a time of turbulence.
In retrospect, I had been starkly different than most of the guys in McNutt. Of the 50-plus guys on my floor I was among less than a handful of young men not smoking marijuana or at least dabbling in recreational drugs.
McNutt was not a refuge for a shrinking violet. Yet, my two best friends and I were hardly angelic, certainly not unpopular.
We participated in intramural sports, enjoyed a few libations at parties, and I was renowned for strumming a guitar while others sang along.
Did we have fun?
Yes. In fact, an immeasurable amount.
Why the aversion or unwillingness to experiment with recreational drugs?
I can only speak for myself but I do suspect my friends and I were birds of a feather for similar reasons.
We had been instilled with a firm philosophical foundation. And, we knew when to cease and desist. We set boundaries … and maintained them.
We took pride in our families and aspired to make them proud of us. We did not jettison our principles each time some new fad or tempting adventure presented itself.
In regard to higher education, I was not birthed between third base and home, then merely crawled leisurely to the plate. I definitely circled the bases.
No, I simply refuse to conform to other people’s beliefs. I wasn’t trained to be a follower.
Awaiting an apology?
None forthcoming.
Columnist Bob Bridge welcomes comments at 812-276-9646 or bbbbbridge@gmail.com.
You and me both Bob.
I’m 68 and don’t know what beer tastes like.
It just made me mad that you had to do certain things to fit in.
I’m not sure whether that was right or wrong.
It wasn’t done for any reason but drugs? Alcohol?
Nope.
But I sure never fit in ha!