Over the months from Spring and into Summer, Grant had become more and more ready to move on with life. Next big adventure was the University of Missouri. His choice and reward for top-notch academic achievement, to be admitted into the highest rated J-School (journalism) in the world. He had been oriented, wooed, welcomed, warned and registered by the University, all as a part of breaking out as his own man.
He had been assigned a dorm room, actually a suite comprised of one 2-bed room separated from another 2-bed room by a common bath area. Move-in was Wednesday, which meant he was to be packed and ready to leave for Mizzou on Tuesday; this after I had been home for only two full days from my northwest vacation road trip. He was kind of packed for college when I drove in from Denver and managed to piece together most of the necessities and place them in the back of the SUV. He took most of our suggestions, which we tried to keep to the very minimum, as to what to include; opting to live on the spartan side of the spectrum. Traveling and living unencumbered is a good plan.
Arriving the evening before move-in, we three lodged in a hotel room from which we could spring into action once we finished our free continental breakfast the next morning. During summer orientation in August, one of the Student Facilitators guaranteed that move-in day would either be 102 degrees, or pouring rain. He was good. It was the latter.
Student volunteers, coated in yellow plastic rain gear were station on the corners to direct and advise the tangled and teaming masses of new students and parents. We got a temporary parking pass to briefly stay in the (un)loading zone outside the dorm. With windshield wipers on medium, Grant and Mom began to ferry (an apt verb on this day) boxes and sundries into the indoor staging area known as the "fish bowl", while I was required to stay with the vehicle. Once disgorged of freshman cargo, I then parked in the assigned lot a half-mile away. Doing my darnedest at dodging between the drops, I made my way up to the third floor to help with the unpacking process. Grant's roommate, Cambridge, from Kansas City area had not yet arrived, so Grant got his choice of beds and side of closet. The adjoining suite had Ted from St. Louis and Carson from Chicago. Meanwhile, down the hall rumbled warehouse carts filled with appliances, electronics and boxes of clothing being unloaded from a U-Haul trailer and pushed by father and mother into their daughter's dorm room. Seriously? A U-Haul trailer?! Just reinforced my appreciation for Grant's minimalist approach to living.
We parents were invited to leave our fledgling behind and attend a University sponsored lecture/seminar styled after air traffic controllers calmly aiding "helicopter parents" to gently land their hovering vehicle and allow their 18-year old to - as they say, get a life. Good-bye Mom. They'll be fine. Really. We took the opportunity to leave Grant's new living space (even though we did not need the preparation for separation talk) and allow social connections to be made on Grant's own terms without the embarrassment of having to introduce parents (especially loose-cannon Dad). We planned to meet him at the Union for lunch in a few hours. Meanwhile he had meetings with faculty and student advisers to get his schedule arranged.
He ended up with one 8 AM class (psychology) and had to settle for a high-intermediate Spanish course since the intermediate level course had already been filled. This challenging level of Spanish was the most daunting of all his classes he figured. We have since heard that he was getting a 96 in Spanish. And his early morning class was conducted by a young, energetic professor who kept things lively for that early hour, no snoozing.
After lunch I got out my thin plastic card, and Grant picked up all of his text books that had been pre-boxed by the Tiger Book Store, and with one quick swipe, $730 worth of text books was handed to us. With the precious box of books in hand, the sky opened up as we walked back to his room. Fortunately one of Grant's high school graduation gifts was a large umbrella. The handy grad gift was employed, while Grant and Mom alternately struggled with one holding the umbrella for maximum coverage and the other carrying the box. Then they tried each carrying one side of the box and trying to use the umbrella simultaneously. As they struggled along the sidewalk beside streets flowing torrents of rain water, a car drove by and soaked 'em good with a rooster tail of water, the umbrella was no defense. The book box was so soggy that it could barely contain the $700 worth of cargo. The two besodden book wranglers caught up to me inside the dorm, dripping and laughing at the poorly managed episode.
Purposely light on any final advice, we said our good-byes; feeling he he had been well-enough prepared and expecting the best of the young man. If I could have left him with any advice it would have been, "Feed the chickens while it's hot - but sleep with one eye open." But I didn't tell him that. No tears.
I will return to Columbia on November 19 to pick him up and get him home for 1 week of Thanksgiving break. Requested first home cooked meal - quiche. Good choice, but go figure. Ah, how quickly refined tastes are developed with even less than a semaester of higher education. Welcome back, your quiche will be ready momentarily.
He had been assigned a dorm room, actually a suite comprised of one 2-bed room separated from another 2-bed room by a common bath area. Move-in was Wednesday, which meant he was to be packed and ready to leave for Mizzou on Tuesday; this after I had been home for only two full days from my northwest vacation road trip. He was kind of packed for college when I drove in from Denver and managed to piece together most of the necessities and place them in the back of the SUV. He took most of our suggestions, which we tried to keep to the very minimum, as to what to include; opting to live on the spartan side of the spectrum. Traveling and living unencumbered is a good plan.
Arriving the evening before move-in, we three lodged in a hotel room from which we could spring into action once we finished our free continental breakfast the next morning. During summer orientation in August, one of the Student Facilitators guaranteed that move-in day would either be 102 degrees, or pouring rain. He was good. It was the latter.
Student volunteers, coated in yellow plastic rain gear were station on the corners to direct and advise the tangled and teaming masses of new students and parents. We got a temporary parking pass to briefly stay in the (un)loading zone outside the dorm. With windshield wipers on medium, Grant and Mom began to ferry (an apt verb on this day) boxes and sundries into the indoor staging area known as the "fish bowl", while I was required to stay with the vehicle. Once disgorged of freshman cargo, I then parked in the assigned lot a half-mile away. Doing my darnedest at dodging between the drops, I made my way up to the third floor to help with the unpacking process. Grant's roommate, Cambridge, from Kansas City area had not yet arrived, so Grant got his choice of beds and side of closet. The adjoining suite had Ted from St. Louis and Carson from Chicago. Meanwhile, down the hall rumbled warehouse carts filled with appliances, electronics and boxes of clothing being unloaded from a U-Haul trailer and pushed by father and mother into their daughter's dorm room. Seriously? A U-Haul trailer?! Just reinforced my appreciation for Grant's minimalist approach to living.
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| A Spartan Beginning Dorm Life |
We parents were invited to leave our fledgling behind and attend a University sponsored lecture/seminar styled after air traffic controllers calmly aiding "helicopter parents" to gently land their hovering vehicle and allow their 18-year old to - as they say, get a life. Good-bye Mom. They'll be fine. Really. We took the opportunity to leave Grant's new living space (even though we did not need the preparation for separation talk) and allow social connections to be made on Grant's own terms without the embarrassment of having to introduce parents (especially loose-cannon Dad). We planned to meet him at the Union for lunch in a few hours. Meanwhile he had meetings with faculty and student advisers to get his schedule arranged.
He ended up with one 8 AM class (psychology) and had to settle for a high-intermediate Spanish course since the intermediate level course had already been filled. This challenging level of Spanish was the most daunting of all his classes he figured. We have since heard that he was getting a 96 in Spanish. And his early morning class was conducted by a young, energetic professor who kept things lively for that early hour, no snoozing.
After lunch I got out my thin plastic card, and Grant picked up all of his text books that had been pre-boxed by the Tiger Book Store, and with one quick swipe, $730 worth of text books was handed to us. With the precious box of books in hand, the sky opened up as we walked back to his room. Fortunately one of Grant's high school graduation gifts was a large umbrella. The handy grad gift was employed, while Grant and Mom alternately struggled with one holding the umbrella for maximum coverage and the other carrying the box. Then they tried each carrying one side of the box and trying to use the umbrella simultaneously. As they struggled along the sidewalk beside streets flowing torrents of rain water, a car drove by and soaked 'em good with a rooster tail of water, the umbrella was no defense. The book box was so soggy that it could barely contain the $700 worth of cargo. The two besodden book wranglers caught up to me inside the dorm, dripping and laughing at the poorly managed episode.
Purposely light on any final advice, we said our good-byes; feeling he he had been well-enough prepared and expecting the best of the young man. If I could have left him with any advice it would have been, "Feed the chickens while it's hot - but sleep with one eye open." But I didn't tell him that. No tears.
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| What? Enough already - I will be fine Filling Frosh Forms in new Quarters |
I will return to Columbia on November 19 to pick him up and get him home for 1 week of Thanksgiving break. Requested first home cooked meal - quiche. Good choice, but go figure. Ah, how quickly refined tastes are developed with even less than a semaester of higher education. Welcome back, your quiche will be ready momentarily.
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