As I gaze onto the screened in porch and beyond to the cement playground that we at Civy Club proudly park our cars, I cannot help but bring myself back to the aforementioned 'Golden Era.' When the screened in porch was used for a between-game smoke, leaving the hood of my car ,which resides beneath, littered with cigarette butts. When the driveway transformed into a keg durability testing center.
In a way each of us at Civy are like the taps that delivered the sweet nectar to 10 oz. plastic cups. We strived for was a good time for all, but as time went on, like our taps, some of us got lost and others were worn down. Sure, we tried to tape it back together, but it was never the same. Our once party driven souls had paid their toll.
But as the sun begins to set on another Civitan generation it becomes apparent that in a year from now we will not be living within five miles of dozens of friends, and our houses will not be equipped to handle the abuse that Civy Club has so graciously.
There must be another great party. Not for me. Not for my roomates or friends. Not even for all the hot freshman chicks that never got a chance to see what Civy was all about.
But for a house that has given so much, while asking for nothing in return.
I cannot do this alone, and I do not know what day it should occur. But I do know it will require the hard work and planning of those outside of Civy. Like a broken tap we Civitonians will continue to try to serve, but in order to give Civy the departure she deserves there needs to be a group effort.
Please be active and vigilent in this cause.
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