I don’t know what it is about Howard Homecoming that always fools me into believing I’m a 21-year-old college student again, but every single year I wind up suffering for it. Every. Single. Year.
Maybe it’s the warm, fuzzy feeling I get whenever I run into old friends on The Yard. Or when I’m swag surfing in a massive rainbow of melanin at Yardfest. Or being mixxy at Tailgate without a single thought or mention about who won the football game (because no one under 45 goes to a Howard Homecoming game). Or pre-gaming and partying nonstop until my body aches. [Read more…]