Roasting Each Other, Showing Up for Each Other
I saw this video about friends who roast each other, and it reminded me of my fraternity brothers in Tau Epsilon Phi, Phi Chi Chapter, formerly Epsilon Lambda, at City College of New York. I pledged in Fall 1990. That means I’ve known some of these guys for more than 35 years.
We still get together on Zoom when we can, usually Tuesdays and Fridays. The calls often run about two hours, and they’re so much fun that even a 14-year-old wants to join the insanity.
And there is plenty of insanity. We roast each other about my eyebrows, our dating and marriage decisions, the questionable things we did at the fraternity house in historic Harlem, pranks, a WWE DDT episode, hairlines that have seen better days, and how fat we’ve gotten. If you can imagine it, we’ve probably said it.
But the jokes are only part of the story. When life gets tough, and someone needs help, the same guys who can roast you without mercy will make time to show up for you. That kind of friendship is built over decades—and proven when it matters.
Our creed says it best: “To Live in the Light of Friendship, to Walk in the Path of Chivalry, to Serve for the Love of Service.”
Some of us may be more dependable than others, but the brothers who stay in touch—and stay in touch with me—are the ones I know I can count on. Even if the emergency involves a goat, a bottle of baby oil, and a cord of wood.
From Tau Epsilon Phi to Ska: My Fraternity Brother Goon Is Still Making Noise
I’ve forgotten some things from college.
Classes. Professors. What I was supposed to be studying. And probably more than a few nights that are better left in the 1980s.
But I haven’t forgotten my fraternity brothers.
Back at The City College of New York, I was a member of Tau Epsilon Phi, Phi Chi Chapter. Like any respectable fraternity, we had pledge names—and some were considerably more memorable than others.
One of my fraternity brothers received the distinguished, dignified, and undoubtedly well-deserved pledge name:
Alice the Goon.
I’ve always just called him Goon.
All these years later, Goon is still making noise—except now people actually want to hear it.
He’s part of The Phensic, a ska band.
And somehow, that seems completely appropriate.
If you had asked me back during my CCNY days what someone named Alice the Goon would be doing decades later, playing in a ska band probably would have made my Top 10.
Maybe even the Top 5.
If you’re into ska, check out The Phensic. And if you’re not familiar with ska, this might be a good excuse to discover something different.
You can listen to their music here:
One thing I appreciate more as I get older is looking back at the people I knew during those college years and seeing where life took us all.
We’re older.
Hopefully, we’re wiser.
The hair situation has definitely changed for some of us. In my case, I decided hair was apparently an unnecessary luxury.
But those fraternity memories and connections are still there.
So, from one Tau Epsilon Phi, Chi Chapter brother to another:
Keep making noise, Goon.
And if you like ska—or want to hear what one of my fraternity brothers has been up to—check out The Phensic!
Our Lottery Pool Has Outperformed... Absolutely Nothing 😂💸
For the last few drawings, I've been leading my Tau Epsilon Phi fraternity chapter's lottery pool.
Based on my highly scientific calculations, we've probably donated somewhere around $600 to the South Carolina Lottery between Powerball and Mega Millions.
You're welcome, South Carolina.
This weekend, we're running it back.
I've asked everyone who wants in to Zelle me $20. Why Zelle? Because Venmo, PayPal, and some of the other apps want a cut when you withdraw money.
Sorry... around here we believe in wasting our money on lottery tickets, not transaction fees.
For each person, I buy:
🎟️ 5 Powerball tickets
🎟️ 2 Mega Millions tickets
A diversified portfolio, if you will.
Now, about the last Powerball drawing...
Guess who didn't win?
Us.
Well... that's not entirely true.
We actually won $12!
Since there were about a dozen of us, I graciously offered to Zelle everyone $1.
That's right.
Invest $20.
Receive $1.
A 95% loss.
Wall Street should be calling any minute now to ask me to manage a hedge fund.
I've already started thinking of names:
Niel Capital Mismanagement
Diamond Hands, Empty Wallets
The Negative Returns Investment Group
Bros Before ROI
The Institute for Advanced Financial Regret
The beautiful thing about a lottery pool is that no matter how badly you lose, you get to laugh about it with friends.
And every drawing starts the same conversation:
"This is the one."
Statistically?
Probably not.
But hope has a funny way of costing exactly twenty bucks.
Good luck to everyone playing this weekend. If one of us actually wins, I promise not to become one of those people who says, "Money doesn't change you."
I'll be too busy deciding whether my beach house should have a lazy river.