“Dude, what the f#@k are you doing?!”

This is the question I am most asked when I tell people that after graduating from San Diego State University 25 years ago, I am going back to school full-time. I turn 50 in a couple of months. Hell, I have a son who is a junior here. To him, I can firmly say: your SDSU is not your father’s SDSU. Yes, a lot has changed, but a lot of it still looks the same. This school is legendary – why wouldn’t I return?

SDSU was founded in the late 1800s to teach elementary school teachers and now it is one of the leading research institutes in the country. It’s the first college in America to offer a degree in women’s studies. A program that was founded as a powerful example of student activism became a beacon of justice for gender inequality for the entire nation. Our baseball stadium is named after one of the greatest baseball players of all time, Tony Gwynn. Did you know he still holds all the school’s records for assists in basketball? Did you know SDSU astronomers discovered an actual planet and gave the world its first proof of a planet that orbits two different suns? What the hell?! Like I said, legendary.

Well, I’m back. Beckoned back to campus like a sailor called to sea. On my first voyage through State’s hallowed halls, I studied art and graphic design and worked as a photographer and photo editor for this very paper, The Daily Aztec. I showed up to the office with a camera, a couple of lies about my experience and a desire to do something cool. My first assignment that same day was to take photos of Hootie & the Blowfish at the Open Air Theatre. Yeah, I know you don’t know who that is. Ask your mom. If that wasn’t enough, the very next day, I got to meet and shoot photos of the Governor of California in the main quad. Best first two days of work ever. Legendary. 

There used to be a bar right here on campus called Monty’s, where you could sit out on the patio, right in the main drag, and drink beer and smoke cigarettes while you watched your fellow inquisitive minds shuffle by. Yes, we used to smoke cigarettes. I may recall a time I was sitting on the aforementioned patio drinking a pitcher of beer with some coworkers and accidentally lit myself on fire with a cigarette right before work. I hoped my Editor-in-Chief wouldn’t know I had been at the bar before work, but when you walk into the office with a giant hole burned through all of your clothing, it’s not hard to tell.

I promise this column won’t be, “in my day we walked to school in the snow…” or “the problem with kids these days…” For over a hundred years, this institution has been about giving a platform to new perspectives. Well, this will be mine. So if you see me at Oggi’s, buy the old man a beer. But maybe leave the cigarettes at home.