Hurst Day. Everybody Hurst Sometimes.

I hope this message will somehow reach at least one current Mercyhurst student. At the very least, maybe some fellow grads of any institution will read this and be able to relate.

My undergrad Alma mater, Mercyhurst Coll- er- University, has just declared that on some “surprise” day the first week of October, they shall declare it “Hurst Day.” On Hurst Day, all classes will be cancelled (!!), and there will be scavenger hunts with prizes, picnic food, inflatable fun, music, and to top it all off, a steak dinner at the end of the day.

Mercyhurst students — if there are any of you out there reading this, please, please take advantage of this.

Please don’t try to sound observant, informed, and above “Hurst Day” by saying things like, “Jeez, this is what I [read: “my parents”] are paying [what I can only imagine these days is] $35K a year for? To blow off classes and party all day?

Yes.

It is.

There will be plenty of time for class, and let’s face it — you will skip it a handful of times anyway due to hangover or Golden Girls marathon, and will conveniently not complain about what you’re paying per minute of education then.

I have a degree in Music Education from Mercyhurst. What do you think I do for a living? Musician? Teacher? Music teacher? Nope — I’m the Bid Manager for North America for a healthcare IT company. I love it. I’m successful. And surprise — despite not earning any of that particular training in music class at Mercyhurst, my years there prepared me for my job in countless intangible ways. Time management. Work-life balance. Getting the job done, no matter what sky-is-falling bullshit is going on around you. (To drive the point home, in one year at Mercyhurst, I saw 9/11 [the original!], my father’s death due to alcoholism [and subsequent robbery of his apartment, just for good measure], an anthrax threat on campus, the discovery of a secret half-sister I didn’t know I had, and my mother’s colon cancer diagnosis. Still went to class. Still got good grades. Still had fun.)

If Mercyhurst wants to give you inflatable fun and steak dinners, take it. And vegetarians, don’t fret — someone’s mom has already called and made sure there will be a vegetarian/vegan option, because most of your peers’ parents are still alive, coherent, and capable of being annoyingly outspoken for your “best interests.”

Hurst Day will be so much fun, even if you and your friends spend all day joking about how “lame” the inflatables are. You know you’re going to play on them anyway… ironically, of course.

There’s going to be free food. You are a college student. Get in there and eat as much of it as you possibly can. Take extra, wrap it in napkins and put it in your backpack. Forget it’s there, and then let your roommate laugh at you when he/she discovers it a week later. Pocket your dining dollars (are those still a thing?) for the end of the trimester when you’re figuring out how to make that last $5.01 last until break. (Back in my day, that was probably 4 orders of breadstix, easy!)

At the end of Hurst Day, you will crawl into your standard-issue Mercyhurst bunk bed, and you’ll have a smile on your face and a pain in your abs from laughing at your friend who wiped out on the inflatable surf board, or your friend who showed up in some ridiculous outfit that everyone made fun of all day. You’ll feel a twinge of something, because you are an adult and now is the time in your life when shit starts to make sense and get real. And that twinge will tell you, “this is special.” Acknowledge that twinge. That twinge is the birth of nostalgia.

On Hurst Day, you will be no more than 8 minutes’ walking distance from your farthest Mercyhurst friend, assuming you live on or near campus. On Hurst Day, you will essentially get a “snow day” without having to deal with snow (although, let’s face it, in October in Erie, it’s a very real possibility). Any working person would shit a joy brick if you told them, “Hey, you’re not working today. In fact, you’re not working, and none of your friends are working. They all have sitters; nobody has to stay at home because the cable guy is coming sometime between 2 and 5; nobody’s car is being weird; it is nobody’s nephew’s birthday. Everyone’s schedule is wide open to just hang out and have fun. All day. With free food.”

I don’t mean to imply that graduation brings complete separation from friends and a total drag of a rest of a life. Not at all. Post-graduation means gainful employment, which means visiting your friends wherever they live, even if it means flying. Even if it means hotels. NBD, you have disposable income now. And it will still be every bit as fun as it was in college. You’ll laugh just as hard. Someone will still wear something hideous you make fun of all day. But trying to coordinate everyone’s schedules will be damn near impossible. You will do this once a year, if you’re very lucky.

Of course there will be the big ones that bring everyone together. Weddings. Funerals. But at weddings, at least one of your friends will be the bride or groom, and will have 200 people to talk to and entertain, and will therefore not be quite as present. And funerals… well, they suck.

Just know and appreciate while you’re doubled over laughing at your friend who may have broken a tooth somehow in the inflatable basketball court — that guy might be the Godfather of your first child. The girl laughing next to you might be the first one you call when you see the two pink lines. Your crazy roommate who just snarfed lemonade all over her shirt might be the first one who shows up, after renting a minivan 3 states away, to hold your hand while you say goodbye to your mom.

Cherish this time with the people who will be your family.

Happy Hurst Day, past, present, and future Lakers. Enjoy.