Though the readers would undoubtedly beg to differ, to say the average college student accomplished next to nothing over the summer would be less of an understatement and more of a glaring truth.
Sure, some of them have held strenuous summer jobs babysitting prepubescent hellions. Others have taken a summer course or two in order to catch up on some desperately needed hours.
till, others have traveled abroad to learn a bit about a new culture, expand their horizons and are now itching to come home so they can tell all their friends how much more romantic it is to have an illustrious summer hook-up in Spain, as opposed to Starkville, because, you know, sexually transmitted diseases do not exist in Europe.
At the risk of stereotyping, I have conveniently come to the conclusion the majority of college students accomplished one of three things this summer — the ability to tweet their opinions of any event (significant or otherwise) in under 2.5 seconds, the acquisition of small drug or alcohol problems, or, if they are like me, they have drained their parents bank account to slightly under $1000.
No matter how immensely entertaining these activities may be, they are anything but productive.
Chris Cajoleas, a junior majoring in international business, is breaking that mold, and he is doing it in a big way.
I got to sit down with him a couple times over the past few months and pick his brain about everything from Wiz Khalifa and the homeless to the London riots and working for Virgin Records. Won’t you walk with us?
His name might not be familiar yet, but if you have attended a good show in Starkville in the past year you just might have him to thank for it.
 The mild-mannered Cajoleas is trying to figure out life and all the intricacies that come with it just like every other student on campus. But don’t let the unabashed normalness fool you; he is as driven as your dad’s old pick-up.
Talk to him for 10 minutes and this becomes apparent: he doesn’t beat around the bush; he doesn’t try to impress (though his stories very well can).
He just knows, more than anything, how to get things done and consequently has become one hell of a networker.
Hailing from Jackson, Cajoleas has been around music his entire life. His older brother, Jimmy Cajoleas, is an original member of the band Colour Revolt, and helped introduce his younger brother to the industry.
“My brother started playing with Colour Revolt when I was in third grade,” he explains reminiscently. “I was used to going to shows and being around the scene.”Cajoleas  booked his first show, somewhat by accident, in the eighth grade.
“A band named Anathallo that my brother was good friends with was coming through town one night, and let Jimmy know the show they were supposed to play had fallen through and that they really wanted to find another gig for that night.”
So young Cajoleas did what any self-respecting eighth grader with the mind of a future businessman would do and got on the horn.
He quickly found an opening at WC Dons in Jackson. Anathallo got its show and Cajoleas got an idea: he could do this for a living.
Okay, okay. Maybe he didn’t realize it immediately, but by the end of tenth grade Cajoleas had become something of a go-to guy to book “underground” shows in the Jackson area, especially for the bands his brother had played or toured with.
“When I booked As Cities Burn my sophomore year in high school and 1,200 people showed up, I turned a pretty good profit. That’s when I realized I could actually pursue it as a career.”
That same year, Cajoles started booking under the name Lost Legend Entertainment, a name he says came from a reoccurring character from his childhood.
“We used to always see this homeless guy in downtown Jackson when we would skate down there… he called himself the ‘Lost Legend’… the name just stuck with me,” he said.
Just in the past year Lost Legend has booked a list of notable acts. Mimosa, North Mississippi All-Stars, Wiz Khalifa, Archnemises, Mac Miller, Gucci Mane, Mansions on the Moon and Big K.R.I.T. are just a few of the numerous names the new company has worked with.
And don’t think that Lost Legend is confined to Starkville, or even Mississippi. Cajoleas has booked performances from here to New York, with plans to expand.
But the real focus for Cajoleas and Lost Legend, for now, is Starkville. Anyone associated with him knows his eagerness to put this town on the map,
“When artists think about booking shows in the South, I want them to think about Starkville just like they’d think about Tuscaloosa, Oxford, or even Birmingham… I think it’s definitely possible, but it’s up to us.”
And by “us” Cajoleas isn’t talking about himself or Lost Legend. He is referring to you. And me.
And every other student at Mississippi State University. Without our help, Starkville will never be the music haven he wants it to be, and we will never get the great music and big names this town so rightly deserves.
Cajoleas knows this all too well. He has had some trouble with ticket sales in Starkville recently.
“People complain about some of the acts I bring in, but you have to build a reputation around a town. If we aren’t selling out, the bigger bands won’t come.”
For Cajoleas it’s simple: support local music. It’s become cliché, but it is the only way to ensure a steady stream of talented, established artists. That means buying a $20 ticket. That means coming out and braving a 15-foot line to get to the door. I know the requirements seem rigorous, but I have faith in you. So does Chris Cajoleas. Oh yeah, and he is kind of counting on you.