Growing up, my Decembers were always an exciting time spent in the snow during the day and beside the fire at night. The same month, over the past three years at Fairfield, has been a polar opposite of those tranquil memories.
There is snow, but that just means that the idiots in SUVs who already can’t drive are more dangerous than any keg, bottle or townhouse basement there ever was, with the exception of 74.
Christmas carols are all but nonexistent, especially since nobody remembers any of the words anymore. The only signs of the holidays on campus are that the students get dressed up to go drinking and Public Safety bangs on doors looking for who cut down a pine tree.
Maybe my problems with Christmas these days are just a result of getting older and becoming an adult. Or perhaps it is just another one of my favorite things that has been ruined due to my residence in Fairfield County.
One aspect of the holidays that I have yet to see around these parts is goodwill toward others. In fact, students and professors seem to grow colder to each other as Dec. 25 approaches.
Teachers have the excuse of being pestered to raise grades and excuse absences by students who they have rarely seen all semester.
Students, on the other hand, have to deal with term papers and final exams, though if the end-of-semester work was actually as challenging as the students claim, they would be in the library studying instead of partying on and off campus.
Thievery and demolition seem to escalate during the season, though they are always pastimes of those who have money and few responsibilities. I cannot even calculate the value of my belongings that have either been broken or stolen over the years by some jackass in a sweater vest and a tie. Whether it was a dorm, a suite or a townhouse that I called home, the December destruction remained the same.
Every year, somebody cuts down a tree somewhere on campus and Public Safety starts hounding students as if one of us has it hidden under our shirt. This is always surprising because the level of handiness that I have seen from Fairfield students makes me believe they had to hit a tree with their car to get it down.
What is also baffling is to consider that there are trees for sale all over the area, and if you can afford forty grand a year for school and $400 a month for fake IDs and booze, your townhouse or room can split a $40 Fir tree.
Last year, I asked Santa for a nice bottle of Irish whiskey for Christmas. This year I’m asking that people stop running the stop sign by my house before they hit me or the little kid who lives across the street.
This is my fourth and final Christmas at Fairfield and the previous experiences have made me completely bored with the season.
For the record, any shenanigans played, pranks performed or heists pulled have all been done, so do not try to top them because you will fail miserably.
An original Christmas caper is about as likely to happen as somebody enjoying an orange juice and mouthwash cocktail.
My only hope is now that I live off campus and next door to contributing members of the Fairfield community, I won’t have to fear that a bottle of Jack Daniels will be thrown through my back door window.
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