1. A high school buddy came from out of town for a few days and saw posters on campus for an Ani DiFranco concert in Wollman Auditorium (may it rest in asbestos-abated peace). Needless to say, having grown up on testosterone-fueled classic rock, I wasn't about to be dragged into a "chick's concert" where a folkie was going to strum feeble folk songs on her acoustic guitar. After three hours of screaming, hollering, and shredded fingers (and a Prince cover!) I was an Ani fan for life. It was probably the best live concert I've ever seen, even if it happened to be in FBH.

2. A friend had just lent me a tape of Neil Young tracks in 1991 and the war broke out. I remember looking out over Van Am Quad from my John Jay window as a parade of candles made its way to a massive Times Square sit-in protesting the Gulf War. And as people started crying down the hall in the 13th floor lounge, I pressed Play on the tape player, and "Cortez the Killer" came on. It was like a piece of me died as the bombs fell on Baghdad. President Bush was addressing the country. Neil Young sang, "What a killer."