When I was in college, a break of some sort usually meant one of two things: I'd put in extra hours at my job at the Sheraton Inn and Conference Center in Madison, Wisconsin or I'd go wild. I'll save the description of "wild" for a moment. First, at the hotel, I split my time between playing the piano in the dining room and working the front desk. I've always been amazed by the number of diners able to actually keep their meals down despite my keyboard action. Not having much of an ear (musically-speaking...physically, my ears have been named "Most Curvaceous" in a number of nationwide polls) or a very accurate memory, I would have to drag a large yellow suitcase full of music to the hotel every Tuesday through Friday evening. Most of the time, the only request I received was "Would you mind playing someplace else?" To which I'd reply, "Well, hum a few bars and I'll see if I can pick it up." To which the diner would reply by tossing his or her creamed chives at my head.

On Sundays, I put on my other hotel cap, that of front desk clerk. As you probably know, Sunday mornings were the big check-out time. A friend of mine named Bob Fox and I usually handled the early shift. This was in the days before stuff was automated. We still had real keys and real registration cards people had to sign. We'd make the wake-up calls ourselves...sometimes using different accents just for our own amusement. It was during those wake-up call years that I may have subconsciously realized that I should be on TV in the mornings. We had an overnight clerk named Roy. He was in his 60s and wore his shirts opened to his naval so he could show off his gold chains. He was not a slender reed of a man. He had rather greasy hair...oily, really. In fact, representatives of OPEC often followed him from place to place. In some ways, he resembled a heavier, homelier Rodney Dangerfield but without Mr. Dangerfield's humor or charm. If you think my description of Roy has been uncharitable, I apologize and must admit I do have a negative feeling about Roy. At the end of each shift, we had to balance the cash register. One night when I was being relieved by Roy, I did the preliminary balancing and all was well. I stepped away to wait on a customer. When I returned, I double checked the figures and came out short by 50 bucks. Roy had been lurking and now he was smirking. "Problem?" he asked with a sneer. When I told him that, somehow, I'd come up short within a matter of minutes, he said "Too bad...you know you have to make up the difference?" I did know that and I did do that. So, by way of full disclosure, I think my description of his physical presence may be a bit colored by this incident. However, in my defense, I have matured over the years when it comes to describing Roy. For example, I no longer mention his fangs, pointy ears, tail and cloven hooves. Anyway, one morning, Roy was making the wake-up calls. About an hour later, after he had left for the day, a rather attractive woman came down to the front desk and asked if I was the man who'd called her that morning. I said no. She asked if that man was still around and I said, sorry, no. This is what she said, about the previously described Roy: "Oh. Too bad. I just had to see the sexy man behind that sexy voice." As Charlie Brown would say "Aaargh!" If people's judgement is that cloudy first thing in the morning, then, that's the best time of day for me to do anything, including be on TV.

In any case, when on a college break, I'd most likely be working. As for the "wild" side of my breaks. That did not mean beach volleyball and all-night parties. My wild breaks involved driving the 30 miles or so from Madison to Lake Wisconsin and playing euchre, fishing, raking leaves, snowmobiling (sometimes, in Wisconsin, you could do those last two activities within hours of each other) and eating my mom's world famous chewies! (Chocolate, peanut butter, Special K!) Yes. That was how I spent my wilder college breaks.

Now, for the point of this cyber-spewing. I know what you're thinking "A point? Since when did these things ever have a POINT?" Well, the point is that our oldest son, Alex, just experienced his first college break. It was a short one...just a couple of days. He didn't work. He didn't come home. He and a friend rode on a bus all night Wednesday into Thursday, arriving in Chicago bright and early. Alex is a big improv fan and practitioner and Chicago is the place for that. He has already spent time there taking classes and meeting people in the field so this seemed like a perfect time to revisit not-so-old haunts. They stayed with our nephew, Kurt. He holds down about a dozen different jobs...most involving work with children and adults with special needs as well occasionally doing some acting and improv stuff. All-in-all, Kurt is a fine young man who made the important choice, as a child, to ignore everything his Uncle Joel ever did or said. Well, Alex had a great four days before jumping back on a bus for the overnight ride home.

This wasn't just any bus, it was MEGA-BUS! It is a new idea in transit that started in the United Kingdom: A large, well-appointed bus for a low fare. There are video screens. Some are double-decker, the buses not the screens. All have comfy seats. Pretty nice. Alex rolled back into town Monday morning. That's when my job kicked in. I picked him up at 10th and Main...which is as close as I've ever gotten to the new Sprint Center. Alex looked okay for having been sleeping on a floor and in a bus for five nights. More importantly, he didn't really smell too bad. With teenage boys, the sense of sight is not always the first thing that indicates their presence. To his credit, he remembered his family by bringing home the World's Largest Hershey Bar that said "Chicago" on the label...if he ever visits Hershey, Pennsylvania I suppose we'll get a huge bratwurst with "Hershey" emblazoned on the side...and he did NOT, accidentally, leave a pile of dirty laundry in my car when I dropped him off at his college residence. The timing was perfect. I got him back in time to just make his morning calculus session. I'm no math genius or statistics expert, but even I can calculate the odds that he actually went to that class. After all, he needs a break from his break.