As a 17-year-old college freshman at the University of Colorado in Boulder back in the ‘70s, my buddies and I used to sneak liquor into the student section of CU football games. Everyone did.

One time, I partied and drank right through the fourth quarter with a friend named Steve, together with our mutual friend named Jack Daniels. After the game, Steve and I stumbled up to the Hill, a retail/residential area adjacent to campus that was a gathering spot. Leaning on one another on the sidewalk with no particular destination in mind, we saw a VW Beetle pull over. A woman cranked down the window and shouted out “Hey, you wanna party?”

We did. We loaded into the backseat of the Bug, and off she drove.

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