As a town that boasts a population of nearly 68,000, College Station is by no means a bustling city on the scale of Texas’ other major metropolitan areas. After all, sans a few key streets, two-lane roads encompass the area, stop lights are sometimes replaced by stop signs and speed limits are often unreasonably low.
In case the small Texas town radar didn’t go off by the mere mention of the above annoying traffic regulations that allow for residents to halt, wave and chat, all before continuing on their way, then you must not be from the South. Either way, the truth is undeniable, College Station sits on the threshold between the redneck East and the cowboy West, and with a population of less than 100,000, residents get to choose the stereotype with which they want to be associated.
Of course, with the elephant in the room already in the city’s name, it’s impossible not to call it out: College Station is the home of Texas A&M. And, in turn, A&M is the home of one of the largest student bodies in the U.S., and even further, and most victoriously, it is the largest student body located in a rural town.
Needless to say, the juxtaposition between a small town and a seasonally large population poses a serious problem. If one had to compare the person per capita to habitable square feet for the College Station area, I would imagine College Station rivals China. Around every corner stands a day-old orange cone warning of the upcoming construction that is surrounding and seemingly trying to suffocate us. Texas Avenue is our Arc de Triumph, a monument to patience and persistence that proves, perhaps, that construction is worth every decade it takes to complete. Too bad no Aggie currently in attendance will ever see the College Station that doesn’t take 20 minutes to conquer a square foot – at least not the seasonal Aggie.
However, for all those brave souls who choose to battle the heat, the humidity, the horror of summer classes and a lack of what the French call “Les grandes vacanes” that will have most pardoning our French on a daily basis if anyone were to care. There is a light at the end of the metaphysical tunnel and it comes in the form of seasonal Aggie migration.
Much like our aviating friends, many Aggies, and college students in general, abandon their semi-permanent nests for far more pleasant weather elsewhere. Be that in the form of internships, beaches, Europe or just a two-month long home stay, the collegiate gods are smiling down on all who pack up and jet off. With everyone gone, the more courageous, more dedicated and the just plain lazy portion of the student body can take full advantage of the College Station of the old days.
Much like Six Flags on a Tuesday afternoon, life moves more slowly: lines are short, traffic nonexistent, parking superb. The food tastes better, the tea is sweeter, the ride as a whole is just plain exhilarating we get to enjoy it every single time. Overpopulation has disappeared, and without a war, a natural disaster or a widespread pandemic, it’s a miracle of religious magnitude – right here in College Station.
Sure, school still continues, rent is still due and HEB will still run out of water smack dab in the middle of June, but it’s all worth it.
After all, it’s only the few, the great, who are privileged enough to experience the true glory that our alma mater’s surrounding culture can ultimately provide.
We summer survivors will catch you on the flip side, my migratory friends. For now, you won’t be missed.