That fall term of my third year at Penn State, Tom and Ken still roomed together in 518, right next to Jeff and me in 517 Mifflin Hall. But all was not well.

Ken, you may recall, was a fundamentalist Christian, and Tom was not. Tom got to calling Ken the Cloud. He’d talk about the Cloud walking into his room. It seemed that Ken’s mere presence was enough to dampen Tom’s mood. 

Ken seemed ok to me, but then I didn’t have to live with him. I was an atheist but I don’t believe Tom was, so I think Ken’s fundamentalist views weighed on Tom more than they would have me, as I could merely laugh them off. In fact, I used to tweak Ken a little bit every now an then, but not enough that he got angry with me.

Anyway, it was not a big surprise that come winter term, Tom was out of there, and Ken had a new roommate. His name was Denny; I’ve forgotten his last name.

Denny hailed from nearby Lewistown and was just back from a tour of duty in Vietnam. Maybe it was two tours, I’m not sure. He was in his late 20s, but he looked like he was 40. I guess that’s what Vietnam did to him. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf and I laughed when I saw him— Oh, no, he definitely wasn’t an elf. But he was plump and jolly. And he was one of the biggest potheads I’ve ever known. He definitely picked up that habit in Vietnam. He could also talk your ear off, whether he was on weed at the time or not.

And he was opinionated. He had opinions on nearly every subject imaginable. I recall he was quite insistent that the world had become so complex that nobody could actually be either a liberal or a conservative anymore; the issues no longer fit neatly into left and right cubbyholes and people were now more nuanced in their thinking. I wonder if he’s still around and what he’d make of today’s divided nation?

Denny’s parents were extremely conservative, and like all conservatives they had very dirty minds. One time when Denny was home for a break, they heard him playing the Who’s rock opera Tommy, and they completely freaked out at the part where it went “See me, Feel me, Touch me, Heal me.” Denny had us in stitches when he told us about it.

Anyway he easily fit right into the fifth floor of Mifflin Hall, and he and I became good friends.

Meanwhile, Dave Royer (Perry’s roommate) and Frystown Guy (Carl’s roommate) had made a new friend of Vietnam vet Marcus. Marcus didn’t live in Mifflin Hall, but he was a fellow music enthusiast, so he was always hanging around Dave’s room to enjoy his music, such as The Band, Jimi Hendrix, and The Rolling Stones.

Marcus was another vet who really enjoyed his weed. He also enjoyed some of the harder drugs, I believe. He was something of a tough guy, and he definitely had a temper. 

Apparently he had seen some real action in Nam. His girlfriend once mentioned that she would recognize his ass anywhere, as it was scarred from shrapnel he had taken while over there.

I managed to get on his bad side.

Dave and Perry’s room was right next to the elevator, and their door was loose. That is, when it was locked, you could push on it, and as it wasn’t tight, the lock made a loud sound as it banged inside the strike plate.

Well, one day while Dave and Marcus were in Dave’s room listening to music with the door locked, I left my room to walk to the elevator. Frystown Guy came out of his room and tried to go into Dave’s room but as the door was locked, all he succeeded in doing was making that banging sound. Stymied, he didn’t bother knocking, but returned to his room.

By this time I had reached the elevator and pressed the down button, and Marcus opened Dave’s door and saw me. He incorrectly assumed that I was the one that had banged against the door and started shouting at me.

I don’t like to be accused of something that I didn’t do, and he was shouting way out of proportion to what the alleged infraction was, so I told Marcus to fuck off and got on the elevator.

The elevator door closed as Marcus lunged at me, and through the door I could hear Frystown Guy yelling that he had been the one that had pushed at the door.

But as I had told Marcus to fuck off, he never forgave me, and relations between us were never the same.

Shortly after that incident, winter term ended, and Frystown Guy and Dave Royer decided that they had more in common with each other than they did with their roommates, so Dave moved in with Frystown Guy, and Carl Gruber moved in with Perry Harris. It was all quite amicable.

While I liked and got along with all four of them, it was Carl and Perry that I spent the most time with, so now that they were roomies, it worked out well for me.