On your way to Murray Hall, you're likely to pass a gentleman who look like he got lost on the way to Tennessee and decided to stay here instead. Clad in cowboy hat, jeans, and plaid, he sings and strums as the college students rush on by. Sometimes people would stop to chatter with him, but most are too busy to stop and ask him why he picked this place to sing.

I mostly feel envious of him as I run late to class each time, wishing I'm sitting out in the sun with a guitar instead.