This week, I am getting super nostalgic with fall in the air. And I have a quick note about the Video Music Awards, and some disgust over the HBO show Entourage.

I am probably the most nostalgic person in the world, and in the fall, I get a million times worse.  Do I look back on my boyhood days of crunching through the fall leaves, pumpkin picking, and throwing rocks at cars? No. I miss my hazy, crazy, carefree days at college. And it is hard not to hark back to my first few days of freshman year of college in the fall of 1994 because everything was so memorable. Swedish pop sensations Ace of Base were at the top of the charts, the Beastie Boys were just reaching their thirties, and just a few months prior the once lovable OJ Simpson had murdered his wife and her lover. ‘Twas an interesting period in our nation’s history.  And starting college in Maryland was so exciting to me as was meeting people from all over the Eastern Seaboard. The Maryland lacrosse guys with their semi-mullets, the New York kids and their almost foreign accents, and girls, well, just girls in general.  And of course, when it came time to decorating the dorm room, we had all the essentials. Bob Marley poster? Check. Reservoir Dogs poster? Check. A beer slash weed poster? Check. We even had a chalk body outline crudely made on our floor with tape as if someone had died on our floor. We college kids were a wild bunch!

I loved all the new and exotic things that I was being introduced to in college — bands like Phish, Rusted Root, Blues Traveler, and a ton of other bands that make pasty white kids in Patagonia fleece jackets dance funny. Clothes from stores like J. Crew, Eddie Bauer, and LL Bean were all intriguing to me since I could have been a J.C. Penny’s cover model (thanks, Mom). And  I was always amazed at the cigarettes my roommate would give me because they always put me in the mood for the Pizza Hut lunch buffet. 

With all the memories I have, fuzzy or not, it is still very hard at this time of year not to think about the good old days. Even my high school years where fall meant football games, smashing pumpkins (the band and the activity), and getting shot down by girls I asked to the Homecoming Dance. I miss summer already, but I love the trips down memory lane that the autumn gives me!

I did not watch the VMA’s last night, but on a quick note based on my impressions from reading facebook and twitter updates: Kanye must have performed well, Justin Bieber is equally loved and hated from folks my age whether it be hipster irony or not, and Chelsea Handler was obnoxious. Nobody I know wrote that, I just find her to be very obnoxious.

This week, and pretty much for the past few months, I am down on the show Entourage. It’s probably the most macho and douchy guilty pleasure of mine. I don’t do fantasy sports, don’t watch cage fighting, and am not into poker or card playing. Watching this show is probably the only thing I have in common with 98% of my demographic. Regardless, the show was heaps better when they got laid, partied, and lived it up. Watching it was an escape from my drudgery of cubicles, collared shirts, and commutes. Now, it just isn’t fun to watch. I guess my sister knows best — when I posted “remember when Entourage was good” on Facebook, her reply was simply and appropriately “no.”                

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