We're the boys of ZBT you've heard so much about, we're dirty...
This is the opening line from our most enduring fraternity song. Imagine how funny it would be to see a huddle of paunchy, middle-aged guys singing about how they're going to raise hell. The songs, with their threats to women everywhere, were much more innocuous than they were some 25 years ago (as if they were ever really dangerous!). But even if the body was reluctant the spirit was willing!!!
Last Saturday afternoon, 20 members of my ZBT chapter (Delta Pi) enthusiastically gathered at a traditional watering hole in NYC - McSorley's, and it was a unanimous success. We threw our arms around each other as if it were the 80s and we were testosterone driven (not minivan driving) young bucks, so the beer flowed and we re-lived our youth.
The energy and euphoria claimed several victims, i.e., a few stomachs and one cracked melon. After leaving the hospital at 2am with eight new staples in his giant, bald dome, Brian was ingloriously (but quite appropriately) nicknamed 'uncle scar head' by his nephews on Sunday.
When a freshly-bloodied Brian walked out of the bar, onto the NYC city sidewalk, and proclaimed to the crowd in the wait line, 'Look what the white people did to me', it was priceless. It acted as a pronouncement to the world that the energy and joy from the previous six hours birthed new life into our existence as brothers.
Later, in a moment of melancholy, I realized that some connections that had slipped these past 20 years may realize the same fate in the next 20 years, but for a spectacular six hour period in a NYC pub that is lost in time - we lost ourselves in time.
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