RSSLafayette sucks
Column - Burning down the house
By Doug Moquet
Issue date: 11/16/07 Section: Opinion
"Burning Down the House" was originally created to be a fraternity-related column that would run for one semester during the fall of 2006. I spent six hours writing my first piece, struggling to find the right words to welcome Lehigh's new freshmen to the Hill while giving them a proverbial list of survival do's and dont's. Three semesters and almost 18 columns later, I've come full circle, still struggling to find the right words. I need to say goodbye and impart my senior wisdom, but I realize now that in my four years here actions speak so much louder than words. This is what I've learned.
Dance, for our peers may never again be too drunk to notice. Fist-pump, take little steps in and out, grab your partner and spin together. It beats playing flip cup or holding your friend's drink.
Eat, for our bodies may never again be blessed with collegiate metabolisms or the steep mountain climbs to class. We have the rest of our lives to get in shape, but only a handful of semesters left before we get to the bottom of the family-sized Fiesta Mix.
Speak, for our ideas may never again be untied to a salary or heard in an objective light. Whisper southern drawl or shout Native American war cries at the top of your lungs, just so long as you don't mask your sorrows or dissatisfaction. Embrace what burns you and turn it into a work of art.
Spend, for our wallets may never again be so flush with our parents coin. College isn't cheap, and we needn't be either. Don't spend your days like you haven't any money; spend your money like you haven't any days. Time is the most important commodity, and last call is at 2 a.m.
Abstain, for our virtue may never again be so tested by the disingenuous and faint of heart. Thou shall preserve, not pollute thyself. Bartender, another shot please!
Dream, for our minds may never again take such refuge in the tender breast of post-adolescent idealism. Imagine a college where your talon-toting mascot doesn't need a pair of hiking boots or where business ethics isn't just an oxymoron. Let your aspirations carry you skyward, but let go before you get sucked into a jet engine.
Experiment, for our curiosity may never again be so unconstrained. Be tempted by strange and unconventional spirits. Take a camera and break into an abandoned steel mill or smoke clove cigarettes with your friend's mom. Maybe throw a funeral for a dead cat - anything to break the monotony of everyday existence.
Love, for we may never again be surrounded by unmarried hordes of the opposite sex. Rejection stings, but it beats the dull ache of never knowing whether you had a chance. You might wake up next to a beautiful stranger, your future wife or a beagle named Izzy, but one thing's for certain: You will miss 100 percent of the shots you don't take.
Laugh, for we may never again find life so kind and benevolent as it is here at Lehigh. Chuckle, slap your knee, roll on the floor and blow milk out of your nostrils. Pee your pants. Life's curveballs will seem funny too if you can learn to laugh alone.
But above all of my parting prescriptions, I ask you to hate.
Hate, hate, hate, for we will always have the Lehigh-Lafayette football rivalry, a week to share disgruntled disdain for these subterranean Easton hominoids who emerge from the dirt at night only to break into the Crayola factory, feasting on crayons and sniffing glue until they've had their fill. As you read this there's 14 busloads of them unloading up at Goodman Stadium, making the whole place stink like Footlocker. Did you know Bill O'Reilly loves Lafayette?
In four years we haven't won. Maybe it's time we get sum? GO LEHIGH.
Doug Moquet is a senior journalism and international relations major and photo editor emiterus for The Brown and White. His column, Burning Down The House, appears alternate Fridays.
Dance, for our peers may never again be too drunk to notice. Fist-pump, take little steps in and out, grab your partner and spin together. It beats playing flip cup or holding your friend's drink.
Eat, for our bodies may never again be blessed with collegiate metabolisms or the steep mountain climbs to class. We have the rest of our lives to get in shape, but only a handful of semesters left before we get to the bottom of the family-sized Fiesta Mix.
Speak, for our ideas may never again be untied to a salary or heard in an objective light. Whisper southern drawl or shout Native American war cries at the top of your lungs, just so long as you don't mask your sorrows or dissatisfaction. Embrace what burns you and turn it into a work of art.
Spend, for our wallets may never again be so flush with our parents coin. College isn't cheap, and we needn't be either. Don't spend your days like you haven't any money; spend your money like you haven't any days. Time is the most important commodity, and last call is at 2 a.m.
Abstain, for our virtue may never again be so tested by the disingenuous and faint of heart. Thou shall preserve, not pollute thyself. Bartender, another shot please!
Dream, for our minds may never again take such refuge in the tender breast of post-adolescent idealism. Imagine a college where your talon-toting mascot doesn't need a pair of hiking boots or where business ethics isn't just an oxymoron. Let your aspirations carry you skyward, but let go before you get sucked into a jet engine.
Experiment, for our curiosity may never again be so unconstrained. Be tempted by strange and unconventional spirits. Take a camera and break into an abandoned steel mill or smoke clove cigarettes with your friend's mom. Maybe throw a funeral for a dead cat - anything to break the monotony of everyday existence.
Love, for we may never again be surrounded by unmarried hordes of the opposite sex. Rejection stings, but it beats the dull ache of never knowing whether you had a chance. You might wake up next to a beautiful stranger, your future wife or a beagle named Izzy, but one thing's for certain: You will miss 100 percent of the shots you don't take.
Laugh, for we may never again find life so kind and benevolent as it is here at Lehigh. Chuckle, slap your knee, roll on the floor and blow milk out of your nostrils. Pee your pants. Life's curveballs will seem funny too if you can learn to laugh alone.
But above all of my parting prescriptions, I ask you to hate.
Hate, hate, hate, for we will always have the Lehigh-Lafayette football rivalry, a week to share disgruntled disdain for these subterranean Easton hominoids who emerge from the dirt at night only to break into the Crayola factory, feasting on crayons and sniffing glue until they've had their fill. As you read this there's 14 busloads of them unloading up at Goodman Stadium, making the whole place stink like Footlocker. Did you know Bill O'Reilly loves Lafayette?
In four years we haven't won. Maybe it's time we get sum? GO LEHIGH.
Doug Moquet is a senior journalism and international relations major and photo editor emiterus for The Brown and White. His column, Burning Down The House, appears alternate Fridays.
