I have an essay that I wrote that some people like to read. Some people laugh. Some cry.
I feel like posting it.
"Michael Hallock
Medical Amnesty Essay
“What you should know about using alcohol at Emory”
Dear new Emory student,
As you leave your life of high school and home-cooked meals, you are probably looking forward to the new academic opportunities that will be afforded to you at our prestigious university. Here at Emory, there will be plenty of new things to see and do. You will make new friends, join new groups, and learn new things about yourself. You will bask in the glow of academia, which will include spending long days studying in the classroom, long afternoons studying in your room, long nights studying in the Matheson reading room, and long weekends drinking obscene amounts of alcohol. Wait; did I say obscene amounts of alcohol? That would tarnish the reputation of our great university. Perhaps ridiculous amounts of alcohol would be more appropriate.
Okay, now that I’ve broken my little monologue about the virtues of the college experience, it’s time to get down to brass tax. At college, there are ludicrous amounts of alcohol, drugs, and pretty much any other hedonistic pleasure to quench any and all of your heart’s desires. Not only that, but nobody will be there to stop you! Mommy and daddy won’t be scolding your for waking up in your own vomit, with a note on your pillow from the rather uncomely partner that the beer-goggles had transformed into a glowing goddess (or god) the night before. And, unless you do something really stupid, the police probably won’t be on your case either. If you’re indoors, you probably won’t get caught. Now, before you throw that lampshade off of your head to make way for the next keg stand, there are a few lugubrious facts that you should know about drinking in “the durrty durrty,”, as us college students have learned to call our hometown.
First off, if you’re under 21, drinking is illegal in Georgia. Therefore, you shouldn’t do it.
Who am I kidding? Like that is going to stop you! You’re a young college student who is going places! It’s not like you have an utter disregard for the law. You try to keep it under 100 as you careen across the quad, in your parents’ H2, to your new parking space on top of the benches at Atwood. If you were going 120, it would be much harder to flick your Camel Crema (or the roach of your ill fatty) out the window. Some laws were just made to be broken. Seriously though, would a society that expected you to remain sober allow a poster sale (directed at freshmen) that focused mostly on our lord and savior, Jack Daniels, and his brother, Captain Morgan? Not a chance.
The fact is, we live in a two-faced society. On one side we have the stern maunderings of the powers that be, spewing out a cornucopia of mission statements and pledges and policies of varying tolerance. On paper you’d be led to believe that the grandest goal of our society is a sober population under the age of 21 (after which they are free to lambaste their livers until they resemble a shriveled prune more than a human organ). On the other side we have the real world that we as students live in. This is the world where you’ve been getting alcohol at religious services since you were twelve, where you see your SA’s and RA’s at parties, where in order to join a frat you’re going to have to undergo the “breakfast of champions” (Wheaties really do taste better with gin), where nearly every high school students goes on a senior-week where everyone looks the other way whilst 17 year olds pound handles of vodka from plastic bottles, where one is given the impression that only the most anemic of milksops would abstain from the irresistible delights that reside inside a bottle with two X’s or a grey goose on the side.
Although our society has all but handed us a snifter of earthly delights, my foray into the “heart of darkness” that resides in the basement of each of our fine Greek organizations has verified that it is in one’s best interest to slurp with discretion from aforementioned snifter full of earthly delights. There can be consequences beyond the compulsory 1500 word essay which you will enjoy writing way more than was originally intended.
Let me tell you about a typical night of drinking at a typical frat party, and a few of the possible endgames that can occur. Think of this as a sort of compilation of experiences that I have engaged in or seen thus far in my college experience. You will begin the evening with a shower, followed by a spritz of your favorite scent. This will convince you that you won’t be the reason that every frat you enter contains a nosebleed-inducing pall of body odor. Then you will put on a few of your nicest clothes. Perhaps you should rethink the silk, it doesn’t play well with gallons of sweat and spilled Milwaukee’s Best. You will meet up with your “crew”, who if you’re lucky will already have commandeered some upstanding young debutantes from across the hall to accompany you on the fabulous journey that awaits. After this you will walk across to frat row, all the while marveling that they put your freshman dorm only half a furlong from these Greek temples. Except that the only god that lives inside these temples is Dionysus, but I digress. You will approach a group of smiling frat guys at the door. Don’t be fooled, they don’t like you, but they are happy that you brought fresh meat of the female persuasion. After they stall you for a few minutes by shaking hands (which allows them to get a good once-over of your female companions), and you ignore the “Abandon all hope, ye who enter Here,” which was inscribed on the house by it’s last inhabitants, you can go in and proceed to have “a good time”, college style.
Now you are faced with a few options. The first option is to realize that frat parties aren’t actually that fun, and you would be better spending your time back at the dorm watching Harold and Maude. However, this is a path that most of you are unlikely to take, so instead I’ll stick to the options that involve staying at this little get-together. You can choose the path of the righteous, and walk around with a glass of orange juice in your hand (just tell everyone that it’s a screwdriver). This will cause much levity on your part as you revel in the party atmosphere without getting plastered into submission. Hopefully, a few of your peers of the opposite sex, as well as the dean (who is serving the margaritas), will be impressed with your responsibility.
This is not that path that a green college student will probably take. So, before you and “The Captain” make it happen, let me describe the other outcome of this story. After having consumed a liberal amount of “The Beast” or a comparable horrible beer, it will suddenly make sense to move on to stronger libations. A few shots later, you have angered a few of your friends with your irresponsible behavior, and completely humiliated yourself in front of a few others. At this point, the amount of alcohol that you are consuming is irrelevant, as you unthinkingly down more and more liquor. You feel absolutely wonderful. And then, the room begins to spin. At this point you are lucky if you haven’t been taken advantage of by a member of the opposite sex, but don’t worry, you won’t have any appeal to them in a few minutes. If you consume too much alcohol, you will lose feeling in your arms and legs, and become unable to move your body. If the vomiting hasn’t started yet, it will soon. Choking on one’s own vomit isn’t nearly as fun as it looks in the movies. Hopefully you have a friend who is responsible enough to call the EMT, because you are pretty much in other people’s hands at this point. You can’t save yourself, someone else has to. That is an important thing to remember about alcohol: when you use it, you suddenly take away your own power to make decisions for yourself. You may make very bad decisions, and the excuse of “I was drunk,” will only fly for so long. Once the EMT and police show up, the thought that you are in trouble doesn’t matter, survival is your only priority. The bumpy ride to the hospital won’t be any fun, nor will the insertion of the I.V., and the catheter if you’re lucky. Sparing any more details of the hospital, it is obvious that the next day will not be very much fun. Your poor body will be in shambles, your ego will be severely bruised, but the worst part of all may be telling your parents that they will be getting a hospital bill due to your own irresponsibility. Take my advice: if you care about yourself in the least, you don’t want to subject yourself to this sort of torture.
I can’t tell you not to drink. As I described earlier, in the college environment, it would be highly unreasonable to recommend total abstinence from alcohol, and expect many students to follow my advice. However, it is important to remember that, although it seems that you are in a consequence-free environment, every action that you make has consequences. Even though you might not get in trouble, you owe it to yourself to use moderation and caution around alcohol, for she is a truly foul temptress. In all seriousness, drugs and alcohol are no laughing matter, and you can seriously hurt yourself both physically and emotionally if you abuse them. I wish you good luck in your Emory career."-my letter sent to the assistant dean of student life at emory in response to a request for a letter to the students of emory regarding drinking.
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