Chuckled to myself when I received an email this morning from Ama.zon which highlighted their Off to Uni Essentials.
It made me laugh because of the vast chasm that has grown between today’s student and the scruffy young man I was nearly thirty years ago.
According to the message no well dressed student could do without a list of items which were definitely not in my rucksack. These included:
a TV; nutrition pills; music equipment; a tool set; full desk top PC set up including a printer and external hard drive.
Ah, it was like yesterday (insert dream sequence wobbly effect as I look back)
My rucksack contained mainly clothes. There was a small pack of soap powder, a saucepan, an alarm clock, a bit of cash until my grant came through and a Terry Pratchett book I picked up when I changed trains in Birmingham.
There was no lift, even to town from our house and I walked the mile or so to the station.
There was no m-ticket bought for my smart phone by a technofunky parent – in fact there were no phones until I got there and gave Mum a quick call on the payphone in the hall.
When I got off in Coventry I asked the way to the University and set off walking rather than chance the local buses. Induction was a grumpy porter who got me to sign for a key and pointed his finger at vast block of flats.
The scruffy tag told me which was mine and I dumped my rucksack and sought out the other newbies.
There were some real characters.
Rick (have to give them anonymity I suppose) was a huge long haired wacky baccy smoking sloth who acted cool but confessed to being terrified of us all. He “dealt” a bit and got caught eventually.
Douglas was a gangly Morris dancer who played folky instruments. He missed his girlfriend and but had a fling with Yvonne (who wanted to run a bookshop and rarely condescended to talk to us). They got back together when he finished Uni had a child, split up ….
The Geeks huddled together two males and two females – I believe they paired off eventually but it was hard to tell as they rarely spoke, and seemed to communicate mainly with nose snorts.
Mike was a hopeful monk who played blues guitar. I made him a bottle neck slide and showed him how to use it. We taught, erm, Hermione (face of an angel) to sing folk. I knew the words, Mike could play and she sang like a linnet. The two of them did a gig in the college bar. She was nervous and sang the whole set to me. He’s a big wig skin specialist in Manchester now and has changed little.
Maude (sorry, I’m running out of made up names now) was immensely wealthy. Some friends went back to her place for the hols and it had its own lake, woods and a herd of deer. Yet, she asked me for advice on how to spend her Gran’s inheritance. I said property (never had two pennies to rub together so thought a house was a good idea) She immediately bought a large semi detached house, moved her mates in and invested the rest in a portfolio of property in and around Coventry. She sold it all after her third year and made a huge profit. Don’t think she ever worked for a living.
The protests of the 70’s were long gone so my stay was uneventful. I actually got to see a lot of live music both classical and folky. Over indulged myself at the Beer fests and had a few flings.
In my later years I made a bit of cash tutoring rich kids to the North of the city, got a teaching job for the September after an interview in the Easter break and came back after finals to my home town enriched and a bit more educated than when I left.
And all this without so much as an external hard drive or an illuminated letter lamp.
Image may be NSFW.
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Image may be NSFW.Clik here to view.
