The Grinch who stole Princeton

I'm out of Polo shirts, and I'm OK.

Many of you were visited by Santa Claus or SNL's Hanukkah Harry over break. Perhaps you were also visited by relatives who traveled great distances to be with family for the holidays. But my roommates and I were visited by someone very special: the brilliant burglar who risked his life to scale our fire escape and abscond with our earthly possessions, freeing us from the shackles of consumerism and conformity. Thank you, whoever you are, for helping me escape from the evil materialist culture that dominates Princeton.

Hold on a second, though. I hate stories with a touching moral. Sure, when the Grinch stole Christmas, all the Whos down in Whoville (who had probably been blissfully enjoying the rock opera Tommy when disaster struck) came to realize that Christmas wasn't about presents. But I prefer stories in which the character learns all the wrong lessons – a Family Guy staple. In the spirit of avoiding any deeper meaning, I wish to offer some of the superficial, wrong lessons that I have learned from this experience.

A messy desk is a great thing. In my rush to leave, I left a mess around my desk that could be legitimately declared a disaster area, making me eligible for federal funding. Buried in this clutter was a large bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin. While we lost several bottles of delicious Makers Mark, the sole survivor of this terrible affair was buried under a mountain of JP research. Sub-lesson: if I had taken my JP work home with me over break, the bottle would have been unobscured and would have been lost. So I hereby resolve not to do work during Christmas break ever again, choosing instead to leave it in an atrocious pile on my desk. Another lesson worth remembering: drinking while you work is a good thing.

Laundry should be done once a month, if ever. While many of my shirts were hanging neatly in my closet, a few were wadded and stuffed into my three laundry receptacles. Due to the disgusting smell and the intimidating size of the laundry pile, the otherwise-courageous thief dared not ransack my dirty clothes in search of more bounty. I hereby resolve to do laundry even less frequently, for if I had waited until all of my clothes were dirty, there would have been nothing left for the burglar.

Sympathy is a lot of fun. Well, not really. Frankly, no one wants to hang out with me any more. But there was one brilliant moment when I was wearing my one remaining good shirt and decided to use my tragedy as a conversation-starter with some girls at the Street ("Hey, did you hear about those guys who got robbed? I'm them."), at which point they were obliged to chat with me for a minute out of pity (YES!). I hereby resolve to exploit this tragedy as much as possible, especially vis-à-vis the insurance company.

The whole nation is now Republican – even the thieves. The bandit who struck my room had his pick of the loot. While he didn't steal the stereo, he did take my roommate's George W. Bush bobblehead doll (very similar to the one in the Oval Office that approves spending bills). Given the nature of what was stolen – the good booze, the nice shirts, NCAA College Football 2005 and the Bush paraphernalia – I'd say this guy was definitely a red-stater. I resolve to invite him to our next Tory party.

But now, a pressing issue. Without scotch, gin and whiskey; without Polo, Brooks Brothers and Vineyard Vines; without North Face parkas and Patagonia fleeces; without various knickknacks acquired on trips abroad...do we still go to Princeton? With little more than fraying t-shirts and mountains of work, couldn't we be in school just about anywhere?

I've learned there's one thing that we have that no one can steal: arrogance. Elitism lives in your soul, just like hope, and if Andy Dufresne could survive Shawshank Prison, then it is still possible to be a snob even if you're dressed like a bum. Thank you, bold thief, for helping me to rediscover the true meaning of Princeton. Powell Fraser is a politics major from Atlanta, Ga. He can be reached at pfraser@princeton.edu.