Shawn Collins' Blog

Affiliate marketing and other stuff from Shawn Collins, co-founder of Affiliate Summit.

Archives for August 2026

Fandango: A Road Trip to New Orleans After College

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I graduated from the University of Maryland in May 1993 with a BA in Communications. My job prospects were pretty limited, since I didn’t have a car and was living at my Dad’s house in the suburbs. I needed a job I could walk or bike to, and the first one that said yes was Comfort Suites in Laurel, MD.

I got a job working at the front desk for $5.50 an hour. Five years in college, and the best I could do was $1.25 an hour more than minimum wage. However, the job did have a nice perk: an employee discount at select hotels around the country.

Chris, Shawn, and Joe at Sig Kap Crush Party in 1991

Before I left that job for more exciting opportunities ($7.00 an hour as an Assistant Manager at Blockbuster Video), I reached out to my recently graduated fraternity brothers, Chris and Joe, about a road trip to New Orleans for New Year’s Eve.

I looked into using my employee discount in New Orleans, and there was a Comfort Inn where we could get a discounted room for $19 per night. I booked it for five nights (December 28, 1993, to January 2, 1994), and our plan was set.

By Christmas, our group had grown to six people. A couple of guys from another frat and someone brought their girlfriend. I’d finally gotten my driver’s license, car insurance, and a used 1992 Ford Escort LX with about 12,000 miles on it for $500 down. My “new” car was going on our road trip.

In addition to the McJobs I was working at those days, I was also waiting for concert tickets and selling them while working for “Ticket Ricky.” I reached out to him, and he was willing to have me take a bunch of Sugar Bowl tickets on the trip to sell on consignment. That was perfect, as it would fund my trip.

The Road Trip

On the day we were leaving, I packed my things and went to the local AAA office to get a TripTik, a flipbook with the map for our 1,100-or-so-mile drive from Annapolis, MD, to New Orleans, LA.

I had a few hours to burn before driving over to pick the guys up, so I tucked into the couch to watch the movie Fandango. The movie was about five college buddies from the University of Texas going on one last road trip before entering the real world.

The movie was set in 1971, when characters our age were worried about having to go to Vietnam. Our uncertain future wasn’t quite as perilous, but still scary.

Our drive down to New Orleans was a good time with a rotation of a few cassettes and lots of laughs.

When we rolled up to the Comfort Inn on Chef Menteur Highway in New Orleans, I realized why I had gotten such an amazing deal. It was in a pretty sketchy area, and the hotel was in rough shape. But we didn’t care; we had a place to stay that would be about $20 each for five nights, so that was awesome.

The second car arrived shortly after us, and the six of us settled into the hotel room with a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door for the rest of our trip, so the hotel wouldn’t realize we had so many people jammed in there.

Nearly Drunknapped to Mississippi

The bunch of us had Hurricanes and Turbodog beer day and night, as well as lots of Cherry Bombs, which were maraschino cherries in Everclear. I think they were $1 for five.

As we bar-hopped on New Year’s Eve, in that era before cell phones, we all eventually lost each other. I ended up with a group from the University of Southern Mississippi, and we became fast friends.

From what I recall, it was a lot of fun, and as midnight approached, I was chatting with a woman with an adorable Mississippi accent. We ended up kissing as the clock struck 12, and I was smitten.

She asked if I’d like to hop in their car back to Hattiesburg, MS, and I was really close to joining them. Fortunately, I had a moment of clarity and realized I had my car keys, so if I disappeared across state lines, no one could take my car and rescue me from over one-hundred miles away.

My last kiss of 1993 and first of 1994 was not meant to be anything else. Oh well, I still had lots of Sugar Bowl tickets to sell.

Sugar Bowl Tickets, Dr. Pepper, and Robbery

The Sugar Bowl tickets were moving nicely. It was a big matchup with the #8 Florida Gators facing the #3 West Virginia Mountaineers. I was feeling really good, aside from my hangover, as I sold tickets for more money than expected and was dreaming of a tidy profit from the ticket sales.

There were still like twenty tickets left on the afternoon of January 1, 1994, as I sold them a few blocks from the Superdome near Tulane University School of Medicine.

A couple of guys pulled up to a stoplight and asked how much I was selling the tickets for, and I walked over to show them what I had. In a flash, the guy in the passenger seat swiped the tickets from my hand, and the driver floored it.

I chased after these thieves in vain, and in one last attempt to stop them, I hurled my bottle of Dr. Pepper at the back of their truck.

All of that money just drove away from me. I was going to end up negative from this trip after I worked out how much I’d have to pay out of pocket for the stolen tickets. I heard some guy on the sidewalk laughing and looked over.

He said, “That was a waste of a perfectly good Dr. Pepper.”

It sure was. Now I was out many hundreds of dollars in tickets, as well as my drink. Those monsters.

By the time the game came along, we bought some cheap tickets to get in and salvaged the night. Actually, it was an awesome night. We got to see our first college bowl game with Florida beating down West Virginia 41-7 as we sipped Mint Juleps.

The Long Journey Home

After the game, we continued our partying on Bourbon Street for one last night before driving home in the morning.

Chris, Shawn, and Joe in New Orleans 1994

Over time, people in our group gradually headed back to the hotel room to get a little sleep. I forget what time I made it back, but I was the second-to-last one to get there.

By morning, we were still missing one person. We were trying to figure out what to do as check-out time approached, and we got the cars packed up. Just then, the missing guy wandered up, and he was still drunk out of his mind.

He had a great time partying until the last minute, which meant he wasn’t going to be sharing the driving duties anytime soon.

The journey home in my car was not fun, with all of us heading back to work the next day. I think we may have gotten home after midnight, or at least it felt like it. Back to reality and my life of underemployment. But things would get better a year later when I moved to New York City.

Still, I loved a line from Kevin Costner’s character, Gardner Barnes, in Fandango… “There’s nothing wrong with going nowhere, son. It’s a privilege of youth.”

Cult of Personality and My First University of Maryland Homecoming

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I was a freshman in fall 1988 at the University of Maryland at College Park, and I pledged Pi Kappa Alpha that semester.

My pledge class had to dedicate a lot of time from Monday, October 10, through Saturday, October 15, 1988, setting up and cleaning after parties, participating in Homecoming activities, and holding seats at the stadium for the Homecoming football game between our Maryland Terrapins and Wake Forest.

The Terps lost that Homecoming game 27-24, bringing their record to 5-6.

Before Homecoming week started, each pledge had to buy a T-shirt, and I still have mine. The overall theme that year was “Out of This World,” and our matchup was with Kappa (KK?) and AGR (A??).

My 1988 University of Maryland homecoming t-shirt

During our various competitions, like volleyball and a float we built for the Homecoming parade, we had a simple chant that is still an earworm for me…

Are we psyched?

Yes, we are!

PiKA, Kappa, AGR!

It was a lot of fun having daily parties, and some days we’d have a happy hour and a party at night. This was one of those weeks when I just forgot about class, and it helps explain my 1.0 GPA that semester.

Right below the words “Out of This World” on the front of my t-shirt, there is a hole. That hole was where my pledge pin had been, and it was ripped off my shirt by some drunk brother. I no longer have the pin, but the hole has reminded me all these years later.

That was the second time in two weeks that a brother ripped my pledge pin off. The week before, I had to go to PAB (Pledge Advisory Board) to explain myself after getting arrested at our pledge camping trip.

After going through the frat kangaroo court, I had my pledge pin ripped off and was told I was kicked out of my pledge class. I came back to the football tailgate the next morning and got my pin back. I was never actually kicked out. Just some of the drunk hazing mind games.

Anyhow, the thing I most remember from the night of PAB was that it got in the way of a free MTV concert outside of my dorm with the Godfathers and Living Colour.

As I got closer to my dorm after PAB, I could hear the music blasting, but I wasn’t up for standing in the crowd at that point. I thought I was bounced from the frat. But I loved those bands.

When I got to my room, 8151 Cumberland facing La Plata Beach, I opened my window right as Living Colour was playing “Cult of Personality.”

Look in my eyes, what do you see?

Cult of personality

I know your anger, I know your dreams

I’ve been everything you want to be

I’m the cult of personality

That was pretty apt for my night at the hands of the brothers. And the whole pledging semester.

Spring Break 1993 – 1,200 Mile Road Trip to Key West

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I was in college for 10 semesters and a summer session, but I only managed to go on a Spring Break trip for my very last year (I spent my first Spring Break doing community service). As soon as classes ended, six or seven of us piled into “Big Joe’s” station wagon to head on 95 South for about 24 hours.

We were all tight on cash, so flying was never an option. So, our way there was by car, and we packed as many people and their bags in as possible for the 1,200-plus-mile journey from College Park, MD, to Key West, FL.

Most of the drive is a blur at this point, but I do remember everyone being pretty psyched about stopping at South of the Border, which was near the border of North Carolina and South Carolina.

Otherwise, the driving highlight was Big Joe sticking his hand out the window at each state line and shouting, “First one to Virginia,” “First one to North Carolina,” etc. But, as we waited at a stoplight before entering Florida, one of the guys with us jumped out of the car and ran to the Florida state line and announced, “First one to Florida.”

Big Joe was pissed, and we all laughed in our delirium. We actually thought we were fairly close to Key West at that point. Little did we know that we were still over 500 miles away.

Spring Break 1993 2

When we arrived, we found our home for the next week, one of the cheap, two-story tourist motels. I think there were 8 or so people staying in the room, so we decided to make it first-come, first-served each night for the two beds. Everyone else got a spot on the floor.

Our first move after dumping our bags in the room was to go out and rent scooters. To this day, I don’t know how none of us got into an accident, because we were young and stupid and driving drunk all over the island for a week. The rest of the spring breakers were, too.

After a night or two on the floor, I decided that I would stay out as late as I could each night, and then migrate from the floor to a bed as the bed guys woke up. And I’d sleep in some version of comfort until the afternoon.

My late-night tradition after the bars was to stop by a gas station for a box of fried chicken and a 40 of malt liquor. I don’t remember the brand, but it was whichever was cheapest. I’d take my feast to the Southernmost Point and enjoy it before going for one more lap around the island.

Spring Break 1993 3

After a day or two of driving the scooter around, I realized I needed some sunglasses to protect my eyes from bugs and dirt. I went to a store and bought a pair of Ray-Bans on my credit card. This may be hard to believe, but I still have those Ray-Bans. I think they are my oldest possession.

They came in handy that week, and I still use them, though I don’t wear sunglasses very often.

Spring Break 1993 1

I don’t remember ever being on the small Key West beaches during the trip, but we’d wheel in coolers to the motel pool and spend a ton of daylight time floating around and enjoying cheap beer.

At night, we’d go to the bars I’d heard about from older Pi Kappa Alpha brothers or in Jimmy Buffett songs. The one I was most excited to visit was Capt. Tony’s.

Unfortunately, my stop at that bar was brief, because when I went to the men’s room and saw the long lines, I copied some other guys and tried using the sink. The bouncers didn’t like that, and I ended up getting tossed.

Spring Break 1993 4

The drive back to college at the end of Spring break wasn’t nearly as fun as the drive to Key West. All I had in front of me at this point was a couple more months of classes, exams, and then graduation.

It was a really fun week, and I wish I had the funds to go on more than one Spring Break, but I’ll always have this one. I haven’t been back to Key West since 1993, but I do want to go back there soon.

My next time in Key West, I plan to have a bed for every night, and if I do any driving, it would maybe be from Miami. Otherwise, I am flying the whole way.

I Thought There Would Be More College Activism in the 1980s

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When I was a teenager, I would watch the Woodstock documentary whenever it was on PBS. Those days seemed so passionate and politically charged, and I wished I were around for it.

Shawn Collins in Washington DC

As Country Joe and the Fish came on stage to sing the “I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-to-Die Rag,” the lyrics would take me back to those protests against the Vietnam War.

“And it’s one, two, three, what are we fighting for?

Don’t ask me I don’t give a damn

Next stop is Vietnam.

And it’s five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates,

Well there ain’t no time to wonder why,

Whoopie! We’re all gonna die!”

I’d grown up hearing my dad play records with protest songs from the likes of Phil Ochs, Pete Seeger, and the Weavers, and it had a big impression on me.

I cared about the world and wanted to make a difference. So much of the music I was into was railing against Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher.

I was deep into stopping apartheid in South Africa, calling attention to the Troubles in Northern Ireland, and fighting for human rights all over, protesting animal experimentation, and being outraged by U.S. military intervention in Central America.

I even spent a year not eating meat after getting radicalized by the Smiths’ “Meat is Murder” album.

When I discovered Billy Bragg on MTV’s 120 Minutes, I raced out to get his “Talking With the Taxman About Poetry” album, as well as his earlier work, and I loved songs like “Help Save the Youth of America,” “There Is Power in a Union,” and “Between the Wars.”

Activism to Apathy

When I got to the University of Maryland in fall 1988, I was sure it was going to be just like the grainy videos I’d seen of college campuses in the 60s and early 70s.

I’m sure there was activism going on, but I didn’t see it anywhere. I went to the various events for freshmen about campus organizations, and the only groups I saw that looked interesting were fraternities, and they cited philanthropy as a core part of their groups. That was cool.

So, I rushed and pledged Pi Kappa Alpha during my first semester, and while I kept listening to my music about various causes, I wasn’t really doing anything about it.

When the first Gulf War came along, I was sure that was going to be the moment when I could join protesters on campus. I’d heard how on May 1, 1970, there was a rally in front of McKeldin Library at the University of Maryland that turned into a nearly two-week violent protest after President Nixon announced expanding the war into Cambodia.

But 1990 was a long way from 1970 in College Park, MD. Some modest protests happened, but it wasn’t the scale I was anticipating.

By 1992, I did the most politically radical thing I’d done in my college years and voted for Bill Clinton and Al Gore. Before the general election, I went to a rally on campus where I shook Al Gore’s hand and got a Clinton/Gore sign to put in my frat house room window.

I wanted to make a bigger impact, but it never happened; that election did usher in an exciting new day when the decision-makers weren’t all older than my grandparents.