The place where the author tells you what the story is about.

The scene: Charleston, SC, party capital of the South East. The epoch: 1990-2002 and the theme: what is full maybe soon becomes empty. This concerns money, time, alcohol, and other vices. I am writing to you young eager college freshman who might be missing something in your life. It deals with you and your dreams. It could mean the difference between you becoming a meager wage earner or a happy, content person with solid footing. Your peers may determine your future if you allow them to kill your dreams.

Come with me to the year of 1990. The pace was slower, people were not addicted to the ‘net, cell phones, and texting; someone was still on a sticky piece of paper. Flyers of local bands were plentiful and formed a backdrop of human color to the polished college campus. The Doric columns by the Cistern at the College of Knowledge held sway over us. The neo-European classical architecture, bordered with world famous iron works, constantly reminded us of the genteel nature of Charleston, SC.

Club venues like Café 99, East Bay Trading Company, the Tree house, the Juke-box, Myskans, Henry’s, High Cotton, A. C’s, Mike Calder’s Pub, Indigo’s were some of the happiest spots on the Earth for us soon to be adults. What mattered to us were the music, the wine, and the sunshine. The beaches Charleston warmed us with during the early 1990s were also part of that innocent charm. Some of the clubs you did not want to go due continual beer fights are not listed, but still sit invitingly to College of Knowledge students to this day! Plus other Tales from Market and Calhoun Streets during wonderful weekends of 1999-2002. I was a lowly U. S. Navy veteran who just finished four years of playing a Marine at MCAS (Marine Corps Air Station) Beaufort—more on that story later. Well, for most of you, freshman orientation is a drag—as it was for me, but what it did do was to provide me with some direction.