Waters to Wine: Closing time: finish your whiskey or beer

When I began this column three semesters ago, I imagined it as a lighthearted contribution to The Campus’ pages; if not an opportunity to focus solely on seemingly trivial concerns, then just a chance to acknowledge the role alcohol plays in our college lives, for good or ill. And while I hardly thought I’d be starved for subject matter, I did sometimes worry that I would end up stretching for ideas or trying to assign meaning to a topic so obviously insignificant.

So it came as some surprise to me this year when my column all of a sudden seemed more relevant than I ever envisioned it to be. That’s not to say, of course, that I planned on writing something completely frivolous from the outset, but I hardly imagined that discussions about alcohol and how we use it and regulate it would come to dominate the pages of this newspaper from week to week. I suppose this is a columnist’s dream, then, that his or her writing becomes suddenly useful and acknowledged as an actual contribution to public discourse.

Similarly, I was surprised when my column began to drift into more thoughtful concerns over these past few months. Perhaps it is the requisite reflection and nostalgia of senior year, but in my writing I couldn’t help but frame things more broadly and try to understand how alcohol — or anything — fits into our broader experience of college and life.

With this in mind (and hopefully without overstating my own importance), I’ve enjoyed being able to make some contribution to the conversation about alcohol and student life on this campus. And without becoming too philosophical (read: sappy), I’d like to take this last opportunity to proffer some advice to the (still-mostly-hypothetical) reading masses.

First, don’t take yourself too seriously. The reasons for this should be obvious, and the idea is hardly mine. But it’s still valid; too often at Middlebury, students get so caught up in their goals and aspirations, their involvements or an inflated conception of their own importance that they forget that when it comes down to it, for four years we’re just a bunch of kids kicking around in a beautiful place. We shouldn’t worry about our futures — or pretend we know what we’ll do with them — because as much as twenty-odd years might provide us with some experience, it’s hardly enough to be the definitive guide to the rest of our lives. We shouldn’t spend too much time worrying about grades, or jobs or those countless other things with which we stress ourselves out on a daily basis, because these worries impair our ability to laugh, relax and make complete fools of ourselves. Perhaps the reason I’ve been attracted to alcohol is because of its ability to facilitate all three.

Secondly — and lastly (because my twenty-three years of experience are surely not enough from which to draw more than two conclusions about life) — remember to have fun. Four years flies by, and if you spend all your time in the library you won’t feel much when you stride across the stage at commencement other than back pain from too long in a blue recliner and a lingering sense of regret that you never took the time to enjoy Middlebury for what it is. There are too many opportunities here to make academics your one focus, and I’ve learned that the work always gets done, one way or another, so you should never prioritize that over other concerns (read: your life). A nice day in the middle of spring, a stimulating conversation over dinner and a relaxing evening with friends are too good to pass up, regardless of what you think you should be doing. Ultimately, what will matter more to you in the future, the grade you got on that one paper, or the friendships you’ve made and the experiences you’ve had over your years here?

I’ve used alcohol as my lens, then, not because drunken nights are the zenith of the college experience or because we should all be striving for some Animal House ideal, but rather because it forces us to step back from what everyone tells us should matter and focus on what actually does. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t care if anyone drinks (and no one needs to in order to have a good time), but I do care if people spend their days wasting away within the confines of their own brain instead of getting outside, seeing friends and living life.

There are too many great things about this place — and too many countless others about life — to spend one’s time doing anything but trying to savor all of them, whether alcohol plays a role in this or not. So no matter what one opts to do on a weekend night, make sure you enjoy it and are doing it for the right reasons, because these four years pass quickly, and the rest will, too. Spend them drinking liberally from the pleasures of life, regardless of what is in your cup. Cheers.