My husband showed his age on his 55th birthday last week.
One of his presents was an Arkansas State University T-shirt from me. He and I are both journalism graduates from the school, home of the Red Wolves, which in our day were the Indians. My daughter-in-law expressed shock over the very use of that mascot.
It caused my husband to run into the storage room and grab a few of our old yearbooks. He had a great time reminiscing and showing her pictures that she also found shocking (a fraternity member happily using a beer keg during freshman rush; girls getting sprayed down by the fire department during a mud-pit contest; ridiculously short shorts for guys; the Indian family.)
My husband and I tried to explain some of the scenes — it was a different time — and we talked about how far we’ve come.
He also used it as an opportunity to show how much harder we had it back then. In one photograph, a line of students snaked down a stairway, around a corner, through a hall and outside for miles, it looked like.
“Do you know what that was?” he asked her. “Registration for classes.”
She and my son both laughed, having a hard time conceiving of standing IN LINE to do anything, much less registering for class that way. They had always sat in front of a computer any time of day or night to register.
Then, as my husband told her, after standing in line for hours, you might get to the person with the BOX of index cards with names of classes on them and be told, “Sorry — that class is closed.”
Yes. It happened to all of us.
Sometimes, the people first in line would pull their own classes, then have a list of class schedules for friends and would pull cards for those classes. My daughter-in-law said she would not have done that for anyone. I’m pretty sure there were bribes involved of some sort.
People would try any trick they could to get to the head of the line — maybe walk in with a box of doughnuts, pretending to be taking them to a faculty member.
My daughter-in-law said she would have just been on Facebook on her phone while waiting. She was joking.
“The phone was attached to the wall with a cord!” my husband yelled. He was in full geezer mode.
In one registration photo, a guy was on crutches. He was at the back of the line. There was no special treatment. Students were tougher then.
As proof, my husband showed a spread of photos taken during a major snow and ice storm. It showed students slipping, sliding and falling as they were GOING TO CLASS. We didn’t close campus when there was an inch of snow — or 10.
We looked up our class pictures, and my husband held the yearbook next to his face. My daughter-in-law told my husband that he looked just the same, except that his hair was a little “lighter” now.
That was a nice birthday present for the old guy.
Senior writer Tammy Keith can be reached at (501) 327-0370 or tkeith@arkansasonline.com.