Nonetheless, I do remember what it was like to be an 18-yaer-old undergraduate. The first
year experience is exciting, liberating and terrifying, all combined to help us grow into
adulthood. That is, if our parents don't come with us.
The young man at the counter had some sort of registration problems. It is inevitable in t
he first year. The woman behind the counter clearly felt, as I did,embarrassed for this yo
ung man, who was accompanied by his no doubt well-intentioned, but misguided, father.