The Michigan Daily-Thursday September 7, 1978-Page 17
Daily Photo by JOHN KNOX
Ie a soments
By JAY LEVIN
Every Thursday during my junior
year, Rick, Alan or I would cook
meatloaf for dinner. It wasn't just any
meatloaf, mind you. Ours contained
meat, mustard, soy sauce, ketchup and
just about anything that wasn't nailed
Alan had a great Pyrex baking dish
and we'd shape the meatloaf into a
mound-like figure, shove it into the
oven and forget about it until smoke
would start oozing from the oven door.
Every time we'd take it out, we'd notice
that the Pyrex dish would be half-filled
with thick, amber grease. We knew
what caused this phenomenon - our
chopped meat was the cheapest mix-
' ture ,available at Kroger - but we
never bothered to buy a better grade.
,All we'd do was drain the grease into a
glass, walk to the balcony door, open it,
step outside and hurl the grease onto
. ONCE WE poured it, between the
wooden slats of our balcony and it lan-
ded on the hot coals of our neighbors'
Hibachi. That started a smoky fire and
our neighbors rushed onto their balcony
in pandemonium. They couldn't figure
out how in the world their Hibachi had
' ignited. We thought that was hysterical
and enjoyed a hearty laugh that night
as we ate our meatloaf and Tater Tots.
I'm a college graduate now land I no
longer hurl kitchen grease out the door.
College graduates aren't supposed to do
things like that. In fact, I no longer eat
meatloaf because I live alone, and have
you ever tried to cook a meatloaf for
I miss that junior year meatloaf. I
-ihiss the wetched amber grease, the
noxious ingredients and the Pyrex dish
that wouldn't come clean. And I miss
eating it with Rick and Alan in the
frightfully small dining area at 415 E.
Lawrence, Apt. 12.
IT'S EASY TO reel off a list of things
I miss about the University of
Michigan. I miss grape cordials from
Drake's, Community Book Center,
stimulating lectures, the Diag, Angell
Hall's pillars, fragels, football and The
Michigan Daily. Yeah, I miss those
things. And I'd even pay good money to
eat them, touch them or visit them
But it's the things I can't revisit -
eating meatloaf with Rick and Alan, for
instance - that I miss the most. I can't
revisit the night Mike Rosenblatt threw
up at a party over my finest winter coat
nor the time I got revenge by doing the
same on his bathroom floor. That'll
never happen again.
True, I did some strange things in
Ann Arbor. I vividly recall a Halloween
night of debauchery when I fell down a
flight of steps, smashed open my head
and sprained an ankle. I had to spend a
week hobbling around on crutches with
a little marshmallow-like bandage
snuggled on my head. I remember this
:because it wasn't only painful, but pain-
I RECALL locking myself inside a
study carrel at the Grad. Library and
climbing over into an adjacent one to
flee. I recall locking myself inside a
windowless bathroom I had just
cleaned with ammonia, escaping only
after a resourceful roommate broke
.down the door.
And how can I forget returning to my
dorm room on my 18th birthday and
being abducted by ten hallmates who
carried me into the bathroom and
dropped me, fully clothed, into a
bathtub filled with ice water?
But I recall, too, the less madcap
moments. Long hours spent drawing
layouts and editing copy at The
Michigan Daily. Drinking tea with the
neighbors while doing my laundry.
Cramming for an exam' I knew I'd bot-
ch, but doing OK in the end. Window-
shopping along South University after
classes to kill the afternoon. Running
into friends and sitting for an hour chat-
ting with them over ice cream. And, of
course, my last night in Ann Arbor. I
spent it with my first University friend,
Mike Rosenblatt (of vomit fame). We
played pinball, walked along the Diag,
and recalled over hot chocolate at
Drake's the day we had met four years
earlier and the friendship that followed.
I went home that night to my empty
apartment and packed my last bag.
And I cried.
I miss all those moments because,
without them, my education would have
been a four-year wake. And I cherish
them even more than my dazzling 3.201
grade point and the B.A. in economics
that is now framed alongside my Dad's
B.B.A. 1,300 miles away.
So, enjoy the 'U' and don't forget to
make your own moments. Now, if you'll
excuse me, I think I'm in the mood to
cook myself a nice, greasy meatloaf.
Just for old times' sake.
Jay Levin, a former Daily editor
and 1978 University graduate, is a
reporter living in Florida.
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