Hey Michael,

I see you there, late August of ’97. It’s your first night in Room 108, your new home for the next four years. Your family helped move you in and now you’re there by yourself, lying on the bottom bunk in complete darkness. It’s eerily silent all around you. You and your fellow freshmen are here for orientation, but most of the upperclassmen haven’t arrived on campus yet. This is probably the quietest night you’ll ever spend in this room, and your thoughts are running a mile a minute. Did you choose the right school? How will you make new friends? Can you get by on your own? Everything that’s familiar to you is 100 miles away: your family, your friends, your hometown, your cats, your baseball card collection. Is that a tear in your eye, or is it just dusty in your dorm room? We’ll just say it’s dusty.

You’ve never felt this lonely before. But fear not; help is on the way. You won’t believe the wild cast of characters you’re gonna meet in the first couple weeks at Upper Iowa: Norris, Elsbernd, Lenny, Geebs, Bumpy, Reefer, Staff, Corlett, Rubly, Pete, Amy O, Amy J, Woody, Bubbles, Goad, A.G., Edson, Officer Ron, and so, so many more. They’re gonna be your compass for your first year in Fayette. Where do you go for good pizza? Red Heart in West Union. Need a haircut? Go see Stan Woodson. Groceries? That’s an easy one: head to Bostrom’s in West Union, where Elsbernd roams the aisles.

I know you don’t drink, but you still want to be social, right? Good. Head to Klock’s Island or the woods back in Big Rock for bonfires. For nightlife, it’s Roscoe’s or Celebrations in Decorah for dancing, Whiskey Grove in Calmar if you want to end the night with a group rendition of “Piano Man.” You’ll end up being the designated driver most of the time. That means your drunk friends will be buying you lots of pop. Excellent.

The fun continues back in Garbee Hall, too… playing World Series Baseball on the Sega Genesis while listening to The Offspring on Rock 108 (the only radio station that comes in clearly)… watching Monday night wrestling with Norris and Geebs… regularly-scheduled performances of “Thunderstruck,” where the only time the music isn’t blasting is when Lenny turns down the volume to scream “AND I WAS SHAKING AT THE KNEES!!!!”

In the moment, you’re never going to realize how good you have it. You have dozens of friends at your doorstep. right. there. Someone’s always up for something. Head to the Pumper and grab some Blimpies (if Wurzer is working, he’ll give you a deal). How about Disc-Go-Round in Waterloo for some cheap movies and CD’s? Why don’t you round up the crew and cram everyone into your little Ford Escort for a run to McDonald’s in Oelwein? Maybe that all sounds extremely mundane when you’re 19, but when you’re 45, you’ll realize you were livin’ the high life.

Your freshman year will be full of surprises. I don’t want to spoil it for you, so I’ll just say this: you join a frat; you get a nickname; you travel for the first time to an exotic state that starts with “Wis” and ends with “Consin.”

Michael, more than anything, I want to lay down some life advice. You’re sitting there in your dorm room, realizing you’ve been given a new beginning. You don’t have to be the same shy Michael you were in high school. You can be outgoing and sociable. You can stand up for what’s right and be a leader. You can step out of your comfort zone.

But here’s the best part: college won’t be your only chance to start anew. You can evolve whenever it feels necessary. You don’t have to wait for a milestone occasion like moving away from home to start a new chapter in your life. You can start a new chapter at any old random time… like maybe when you’re out walking on a trail some Sunday in June of 2024. Maybe you’ll hear a song that reminds you of your college years and you’ll realize the status quo just isn’t working for you anymore. The depression, the anxiety, the struggle… it doesn’t have to go like this. You have the opportunity to reinvent yourself. Just like I told you at the beginning of this letter, help is on the way.

Ever lovingly yours,
45-year-old Michael