Columnist flakes out, shirks responsibilities

It happens every spring. The perma-drizzle fades, reminding us that we get some sun in… It happens every spring. The perma-drizzle fades, reminding us that we get some sun in Pittsburgh. Fountains spring back to life, and spontaneous barbecues break out all over Oakland.

Thousands of people move on. What you are reading now is a eulogy of sorts, a tribute to the passing of one man’s stay in Pittsburgh. This is a last nod, an afterthought before he heads off into the theoretical “real world.”

Cotton Coslett was an amicable enough guy despite his reputation for being bitter and callous. He arrived here four years ago a skinny, pimpled kid filled with grand ideas of what college was supposed to be. He spent much of his time heckling parallel parkers and chatting with squirrels on the Cathedral lawn.

Still a skinny, pimpled kid, he is preparing to leave, and he is tired of being asked what he wants to do with his life.

Throughout his time here, Cotton went through the same little progressions that many of you are going through right now