When I started at the Colorado Daily 1 million years ago, my colleagues and I coined an immense catalogue of ridiculous songs, phrases and jingles about our daily newsroom duties to liven our loads. (That’s what your mom said.)
Ah, back in the day, when journalists had time to lollygag.
Now, Jesus, 15 years later, the ex-crew still exchanges tropes and old journalism-related inside jokes, because we’re cool. (Our old-school news editor was a stand-up comedian, and our tattoo-covered managing editor left the biz and now runs a Denver weed shop. We have flavor.)
I have a point, chill out. The Colorado Daily has long included a “Body & Soul” weekly section in which our dear readers can learn about things that nourish the body and soul. In a similar tune to Kit Kat’s “Gimme a Break,” one of the old gang’s favorite songs sang like this (although feel free to adapt your own style, as when that jingle rang wild, you were a mere twinkle in your mom’s uterus):
“Body & Soul, Body & Soul, no one gives a fuck about the Body & Soul.”
I’ve been singing it for weeks since I was enlisted to write this column for you fine Buffs. Honestly, the fact of the matter is, I would prefer to not give a fuck about the body and soul. I would rather deep-throat boxed wine spigots for days, smoke packs of cigarettes (they do exist), load up a big bong bowl and sit on my couch licking my Doritos-covered digits.
Alas, I fear that age has taken a hold of my damn body (and my soul). So if I have any advice for you, Generation — hold please … Gen Z, Google tells me — Zers, it’s that you really should give a fuck about the body and soul. Your creaky body and pent-up anxiety will thank you later in life.
And now, since I wasted most of this column talking about my feelings, I’ll bullet some pointers on how to keep your bodies and souls in check as you come back to Boulder.
• Keep experimenting. By pathways of responsibility and safety, feel free to charter the unknown waters — from drugs to booze to sex to anal beads. You’re an adult now. You may not be able to legally consume all of the things, but college is about shaking out the high school, washing off the curfew and putting things up your butt to see if you’re into that kind of shit. Just remember to get consent if you’re involving other parties, or we will take you down. And it will not be pretty.
• Keep your cool. It seems an easy task out here in Boulder County, one of the most zen-filled gorgeous places on earth, and it usually is. But since the leader of the free world is a grumpy toddler in grandpa jeans, divisiveness has weaseled its way into our lifestyles. But little do most people know that anger, bullying and hate really fuck up the digestive system, leading to stress diarrhea.* And nobody wants to hang out with a pants-shitter. (Hosenscheisser, as my grammy used to call us.) CU has a variety of resources and professionals for students who need an ear or three. It’s OK to talk to the pros; they’re here for you.
• Keep the faith — or don’t. There are groups on campus to facilitate nearly every type of worship and faith (or lack thereof). If you wish to continue your religious journey, find your niche. Or if you want to break away from any oppressive system of practices or institutions, then create that damn schism, Sport, and find a path that strikes that fancy. Now is the time to start shaping your inner adult. Do not let guilt give you stress diarrhea.*
• Keep active. Look outside. It’s Mother Nature’s adventure land. Get out, go on hikes, climb a mountain, get a ski pass, or just smoke weed on a grassy knoll and talk to the Flatirons. Be sure to get daily doses of that fresh mountain air before California and Texas transplants jam it up with pollution from “vintage” (see: rubbish) RVs and oversized pickup trucks. The wealth of communities, resources and outdoor activities is almost overwhelming, so keep an eye out for clubs and groups that strike your fancy.
Lastly, remember to always use protection — from wearing (both) head helmets, to Bear Grylls gear and chastity belts — it’s you vs. the wild. If you come prepared, you’ll kill that adventure, Tiger. (May I get consent to pat your ass like a coach?)
* I am not a doctor.