Brave Newman world

Princeton's campus goes dry before the pre-frosh arrive. This is partially due to the liability concerns of the eating clubs, whose graduate boards are still reeling from frivolous lawsuits filed by the Darwin Award-winning minor who got drunk at the Street and tried to surf the Dinky several years ago. His last words, as far as anyone can remember, were: "High voltage wires! My only weakness!"

The other reason the clubs go off tap is the far-reaching War on Fun which is being fought on many fronts. From a propaganda standpoint, West College wishes to obscure two important facts: 1. Princeton is elitist and exclusive, and 2. Princeton students drink a lot. Hiding the truth from visiting students is largely accomplished by shutting down the eating clubs on Pre-Frosh Weekend. But if pre-frosh visit on another weekend...

The nostalgic senior in me recently collided with the obsessive-compulsive archivist, and I was inspired to research the subject of the first email I ever sent to the Sailing Team list. The message was sent in early April of my freshman year in response to a call for hosts to supervise our "recruits." In no uncertain terms, I explained in my first-ever team-wide email that our pre-frosh were scheduled to visit on April 24, a date on which I planned to be perpetually, hopelessly intoxicated. Under no circumstances would I be able to chaperone pre-frosh.

An 18-minute gap in the archives obfuscates what happened after I sent this message, but I vividly recall that, despite my vigorous objections, I was charged with the care of two visiting high school juniors when they arrived on my first Newman's Day. Shortly after meeting me, they were introduced to the tick marks on my arm and the sweet Silver Bullet nectar in my minifridge. Then I introduced them to the Princeton I know and love.

One guest was commissioned to keep my tally on his arm. My other visitor was charged with explaining my quest to everyone she met. For hours, we stumbled around campus, hailing fellow drinkers in lecture halls and precepts. That night, I procured passes and proxes for them and escorted them on a whirlwind tour of the fine taprooms of Prospect Avenue. Since they weren't drinking, they were the only friends of mine capable of accurately cataloging the closing hours of my odyssey. Of course, I finished my case in fine form.

Both kids emailed me repeatedly in the following months, reiterating what a great time they had and how awesome they found Princeton to be. The girl proceeded to IM me too frequently for comfort for several months, though I lost contact with her when she went to Wellesley and suddenly seemed less interested in men.

Of course, I never mentioned to my visitors that Princeton's "Rights, Rules, and Responsibilities" (pronounced "Arrr!" by the insurgency) prohibits student participation in "drinking games" on campus. A fatwah from Nassau Hall declared that any attempt to drink 24 beers in a day constitutes just such a violation. Furthermore, visible tick marks on one's arm are sufficient probable cause for punishment.

First Amendment concerns aside, are they serious? College is a drinking game, and Princeton is no exception. Arresting people on "Newman's Day" is like handing out speeding tickets at the Indy 500 (the only drinking event, according to legend, larger than Reunions). All our favorite traditions involve beer. Imagine how much more fun the Pre-Rade would be if it was preceded by as much imbibing as the P-Rade during Reunions.

Neel Gehani '07 graciously cited my infamous pre-frosh experiences at the Tiger Inn in his April 21 column "It's important being a pre-frosh host," and he describes his pre-frosh boredom of playing Boggle in a dry environment. When Yale hosts pre-frosh, its fraternities throw awesome parties to "sell" the university. When Princeton hosts students, we sterilize the campus in an endeavor to recreate our viewbook, which features more text on The Women's Center (where the heck is it?) than the eating clubs.

In attempting to hide our alleged weaknesses, we neutralize our strengths, and pre-frosh do not get an accurate picture of Princeton. Only if they visit on an alternate date — like me or my ill-fated pre-frosh — can they witness the party-hearty environment that makes Princeton superior to the workaholic experience of Cambridge and New Haven. And I'll drink to that. Powell Fraser is a politics major from Atlanta, Ga. He can be reached at pfraser@princeton.edu.