How long does Spam last when you bury it? Asking for a friend.
April 9th is a significant day. 24 years ago today, two important things occurred in my life:
After we’d buried the Bruce Hall time capsule, a large group of us pledged to be present 25 years later to witness its unearthing. This combination inspired me to curate my own personal time capsule.
I wanted mine to be unique. So instead of rushing to complete it, I spent the three years performing careful curation and planning. I had an opportunity to basically send a letter to my future self, and give it a glimpse of what “Primitive Matthew” was like. Here’s what it ended up looking like from the outside:
I finally entombed my time capsule on August 28, 2000, my final day as a UNT employee or student. It was the day I grew up, by headed south to a new post-college life in Austin.
Even though I buried my time capsule in 2000, I have always planned to open it the same day as Bruce Hall’s. It’s a good thing, because the original Bruce Hall time capsule didn’t make it: after years of being underground, it unfortunately took on water, and everything inside was lost.
My own time capsule fared better: in May 2014, I got a call from the current hall director, saying that the fire marshals had discovered my time capsule & wanted me to retrieve it. And so I did. It’s appropriate that 17 years after I was an RA, I was still causing fire hazards to occur.
So one year from today, a group of strange, silly, endearing friends will descend upon a nondescript college dormitory. When there, they’ll occupy the same lobby couches and reminisce. While we will have grown older, our repeatedly-told inside jokes will have not aged a bit.
I hope to see y’all there. And if you weren’t part of “The Gang,” consider this your invitation to join us.
As ever,
Matthew
p.s. Why stop at 1997, when we could go all the way back to 1066?
