Published in Buzz Weekly on 5/31/07
After several agonizing months of trekking miles through the cold, bleak winter, global warming decided to work in my favor during the equally agonizing week of finals. Pushing our despair to less fortunate places (I'm guessing ... Mississippi?), the Midwest declared, "NO MORE!" The clouds parted; the sun shone and I was finally able to catch up on a minor tan amid the throes of countless shirtless frisbee throwers and bikini bathers (I was not one of them though. I dislike competition/I'm too fat to wear a bikini).
As I lay on my blanket, disguised by some pretentious book in hopes that no one would notice that I was actually people-watching, I feel something is missing. Such an enjoyable afternoon deserves something cold and refreshing. Iced coffee? Nah. Water? Eh. Juice? Buh! Buh ... Buheer? ... Beer ... BEER! I need a BEER! That's what I need!
A deliciously cheap and malty beer would definitely satisfy me! I'll just go ... oh wait. I can't. I can't drink on the Quad because of some fascist "rules" that are trying to protect our morality.
Listen, I consider myself a responsible drinker. Okay, so maybe when I was 19 I told everyone at the gay karaoke bar that I loved them and that they were the nicest folks around. And I guess there was that time that I passed out wedged in a doorway, or on a stairway or in the middle of the floor. Who hasn't done that? I was young, impressionable and inexperienced with boozin' because that too was illegal. But now, at the ripe age of 22, I've had my fair share of spirits and feel confident that I can handle myself (I think we all know who is able to figure out which bus route to take home at the end of the night. Yeah, that's me). So why can't I open a cold one on a hot day, politely rocking out with earbuds in, as I patiently wait for a glimpse of the singing rollerblade dude?
When I first came to this University I had expectations of drinking. Not just from all of those college movies, but from the 12 bars that line Green Street, the John Belushi "College" poster that greeted me from Austin's Sportswear and the tables of beerpong set up among the five billion fraternities that the University of Illinois can credit for the largest Greek system in the nation. Why can the guy that calls me "sweetheart" and "babe" leave his red plastic flippy cups in front of his University-supported housing unit, but I can't drink a beer on the Quad? (By the way, I would fucking recycle that can too).
In Campustown it is a rarity to see children. Occasionally some school buses might show up for a play at Krannert or your professor's wife might decide to show up with their son to class to "surprise him" during the final class just as he's about to reveal something essential about your impending exam - but do we have parades? "Children X-ing" signs? The only "parade" is that of the drunken students going between bars during Unofficial St. Patrick's Day. A can of beer on the Quad is immoral, but an official unofficial holiday designed to allow students to get plastered while they're still on campus is in "good fun." This isn't hurting children or the community. You know whom this is hurting? Me.
Sure, I could take the subtler route of putting a brown paper bag over my 40 or tossing some Jack in my Coke bottle, but why should I? I already had to wait to turn 21 in order to harness 90% of my adult rights (I still gotta wait two more years to rent a car); why do I have to wait the extra hour to go home and drink a beer or pay $2 more to awkwardly sit alone in a dark, dingy bar?
The issue I have isn't just the blatant infringement on my rights as an American - No, actually that's exactly what I have a problem with. What is freedom if not to experience the joys of life on a hot summer's day? When I replaced my "No Fear" sticker with a yellow ribbon magnet on the back of my Hummer, I thought that stood for something. I am being deprived of enjoying a public space with an essential American pastime: drinking. What about the local liquor store that won't make the extra $6 because America doesn't want me to support capitalism? That's right, I said it. Drinking restrictions hurt capitalism, and no one likes a fascist.