Staring Down the Road Not Taken

Of all the old haunts I expected to hit around Cleveland, the college that broke my heart.

During my Cleveland jaunt, business brought us to Oberlin, the little town just west of Cleveland's west suburbs.

The afternoon in Oberlin brought back my brief yet intense history with the town.

In a flash my mind rumbled back 15 years to the college visits, strolling around the city square and wanting badly to gain admittance. They wait-listed me, and in late June told me there was no more room at the inn. I ended up in Erie, Pa, at Mercyhurst College, an afterthought I had no intent of attending when I applied.

Dru had to photograph construction progress of a building he designed there, so once he ended his five minutes of shooting, we strolled over to Lorenzo's for some awesome pizza (chicken and veggie alfredo is a once-a-year event), then took in a bit of campus. I needed to peace of the koi pond next to the conservatory as much as I needed the infusion of art the stellar campus museum offered. Some vibrant colors were necessary, when so often I feel the subject of a Rembrandt, with my surroundings quickly descending into pitch darkness while exposing all my ragged flaws to tighter scrutiny.

College towns are great places and Oberlin was no exception. The striking campus buildings mesh with the two modest commercial blocks (I didn't known Ben Franklin 5 and 10s were still in business anywhere).

When I craved a nap on the college green, I contemplated all the naps I could have taken in that shade if I only studied a little harder or had at least a few extracurriculars (my high school bio was skimpier than Homer Simpson's).

Now, don't think I've sat around pining for Oberlin - until I met my friend Isaac in Nashville, who graduated from there, the name hadn't crossed my mind in a decade. The small pond

Furthermore, if I'd been accepted, I doubt we could have afforded it. My parents excel at spending $1.50 when they only have $1, and financial aid alone would not have covered the $25,000 tuition (I don't even want to know how high it has soared in 15 years).

I didn't go to Oberlin, end of story. Life diverged to Mercyhurst, Columbus and now Nashville. I couldn't even imagine the different world facing me had I jumped from waiting list to acceptance.

But on the green, with the rustling breeze and perfect temperature of Saturday, it was a tantalizing prospect.