Dear Diary: September 1987

Here’s another journal entry from twenty-five years ago. If you’ve been following along in my previous Diary entries, you already know about my dreams to make it big as a rock star.

For me, college was only a stepping stone towards reaching that goal. As far as I was concerned, as soon as the president of Atlantic Records showed up at my door with a contract for me to sign, I was gone.

Today’s entry deals with one of the best days of 1987 for me: the day I received my very first student loan check. I know what you’re thinking: “How can one of the best days of your life be about taking on a financial obligation?”

The truth is, words can not fully express how happy I was when I received the little white envelope at the Bursar’s office at Penn State. For you see, at the time it was money that I had very little concern or intention of ever having to pay back.

I found this entry particularly nostalgic when I re-read it again (and also a bit prophetic). First, it was written on the very first day of school in Easton; the first day I was no longer a student in the public school system. It reinforced the notion that I was indeed on my on again.

I also found it to be a sign of things to come. In the last paragraph, I mention the need of having someone “help” me when I become a rock star because I’ll waste all of the money I’ll be getting. In reality, I needed that “help” immediately. I wasted quite a bit of the money I received in student loans on such things as concert tickets and guitars. Loans that eventually took me nearly twenty years to pay off. A lesson well-learned.

***

Dear Diary: Well, here I am: Psychology 002 again. I’m really not in the mood for this today. I want my bed. Today, I’m going to once again find out if the refund check came back. (Notice that I didn’t say anything positive like, “I hope it’s here” because whenever I do, it isn’t). So I don’t get to get all worked up for nothing, I’m approaching it with an open mind. If it’s here it’s here, otherwise I just want a sure-fire date of when it will be.

I just thought of something: today is the first day of school in Easton, and the first year I don’t go there anymore. That’s weird to say. Weirder still, I can stay home on a Thursday and Mr. Jones (the principal) won’t call.  And I won’t get lost in Mr. Milisits’ music theory class anymore! I don’t even need a little yellow excuse. Radical Man!!

( a short while later)….

The check is HERE!! It’s out in the car and I think it’s only one of many: $1444! My knees were shaking. All that money at one time is really scary.

I swear, when I make it big as a rocker they’d better keep any cash in the thousands away from me. Sure, I want it, but I’d waste it. All I need is reliable equipment, food, a roof over my head, a car and maybe a couple of hundred to party or for clothes!

2 thoughts on “Dear Diary: September 1987”

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