Despite the fact that the tailgate is the closest thing we will ever have to a Dionysian festival, I have mixed feelings about it.
Sure, it's me and a lot of my friends getting wasted without being hassled by ALE or RAs, but I just can't shake the feeling that I am participating in a colossal farce. I think that if it were actually three or four hundred students randomly grouped in a parking lot spontaneously deciding to drink it would be just short of religious, but as is....
For instance, I was at tailgate last week, so at the very least I can die knowing what it feels like to be drunk at 11 a.m. (If anyone found a white and silver cell phone in the Blue Zone, call me- er, never mind just keep it.) In one lull in the proceedings I had a moment of clarity and asked myself: "Why is this 60 year old woman asking me if the bottle of vodka I am drinking from is made of glass? Why am I sitting in the Blue Zone drunk at 11 a.m.?" I had heard there was some "football game" going on, but it was obvious that no one was there for that reason.
Instead, it seemed like between the costumes, the neon "Don't fumble the tradition" (didn't the tradition start since I was in college?) shirts and the 80's music, I felt like I was having another acid flashback. Why is it that the same administration that has made parties in frat sections all but extinct not only condones, but organizes, the wildest and best attended party on campus?
The only answer I can think of is that the tailgates are the steam vents on the social pressure cooker. I can just imagine a bunch of bigwigs sitting in a room deciding that if they give us four hours in the early morning six Saturdays in the fall semester maybe we won't get as pissed off about the social scene the rest of the time. So we all blithely load up our SUVs, put on our costumes and get real messed up.
The contrived nature of the tailgate rivals that of the post-UNC basketball game "madness"-the University knows students are going to be insane, so what do they do? They invite the entire Durham fire department to set up bonfires, and they give us the illusion of a riot as we carry benches to the fires. When it gets out of control, they descend upon us, we walk meekly back to our rooms and everyone thinks they did something wild. The next day The Chronicle reports that the bonfire got out of control and entire bio classes sneer to themselves about those Cameron "Crazies."
How can I take any of this seriously though? I mean, where is the fun in drinking in an environment where Dean Sue is wandering around handing out water? How can I enjoy the sight of freshmen throwing up at 10 a.m. when I have to see the politicos of DSG wandering around glad-handing in ridiculous neon green shirts?
I have been to University-sponsored keg parties, (I felt dirty, but it is free beer), and it is difficult to feel debauched when you know you were invited to come drink by the Man himself. We are herded into the farthest regions of the Blue Zone (separated from all alumni and normal society), only allowed to drink in a strictly enforced time period but somehow still allowed to get as "crazy" as we want, provided we don't actually do anything crazy like fight or do drugs. It is not surprising that kids nearly rioted at the Belmont afterwards; I feel so wholesome after the tailgate that I feel like hurting anyone, including myself, just to stop feeling like Jesse Longoria.
Yet, the tailgate is indisputably the best party on campus. It is bigger, louder and drunker than anything at Duke, and it is the only place on campus where there is no drinking age whatsoever. So is that enough? Can we content ourselves with the scraps the University tosses us to hold us over until....uhhh-tenting I guess, (which is indisputably the most horribly manufactured event of the year)?
I am torn, because if tailgating was just one of many parties on campus it would be a blast; but, the very fact that the tailgate is the best party on campus only serves to illustrate that campus is miserable. That said, we have an entire semester before the tradition gets fumbled, so we might as well get real drunk in the meantime.
Joe Cox is a Trinity senior. His column runs every other Friday.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.