How wasted are you?

Listening to the IU Student Association campaigns this year, I got a particular kick out of Hoosier Party's "More Beer, More Parties, More Fun" campaign fliers … until I realized the group was actually serious. Thank God the Hoosier Party didn't win -- after all, I would like my diploma to mean something once I leave. Having my potential employers sneer, "Indiana? Isn't that the No. 1 party school?" would be frustrating after having slaved for four years. \nFor the record, this is not a "just say no!" column. Far from it. I appreciate a little social lubrication every now and again. After a nasty week, it can be cathartic to get tipsy with your friends and spend the night laughing uproariously at God-knows-what. Still, I recognize it's an expensive habit and, until beer guts are considered stylish, it's probably best to avoid the empty calories. \nThere is a vast difference, though, between casually enjoying a few drinks and getting all bent out of shape about it. Starting Thursday afternoons, you can hear the people bouncing down the halls in Ballantine Hall exclaiming, "Oh man, I'm so skipping class tomorrow 'cause I am going to get wasted tonight." Then, the following Monday, people sitting around you in lecture halls sigh, "Did you do the reading for today? No? Me either. God, I got so trashed last weekend." \nWhat is it about alcohol that has led American youth to fetishize it so? Many people, myself included, believe the negative images parents and teachers force down young students' throats cause alcohol to become synonymous with rebellion and danger. By making something taboo, it becomes tempting. Thus, teenagers jimmy open the liquor cabinet, create some foul witches' brew by blending a little bit from every bottle in a Thermos and then take it to football games and smile naughtily (and nauseously) between swigs.\nThen you grow up. Some of us do, anyway. Once you turn 21, the naughty thrill fades and you become more nonchalant about drinking. Of course, some people go to the grave thinking everyone is impressed by their "One time, I did 19 beer bongs in a night" story. \nPersonally, I was psyched to turn 21 because I didn't like being kept out of any public building. In this town and others, a lot of good comedy shows and musical performances take place in bars, so it cut down on the number of events I could attend. Pre-21, I had this envious attitude, like, "Ooh, what's in that building? Why can't I go in? Look, people are lined up to get in! It must be heavenly within those walls." \nBut then the illusion of coolness died. You know the scene -- you're finally legal, you prance into the club with your shiny new ID hot off the presses and … wait, who are all of these skeezy guys and trampy-looking girls? What is that obnoxious music they've got playing? And ye gods, what on earth is that smell?\n Forget that. One can only get jostled and elbowed so many times before deciding that a change of venues is in order. I much prefer my alcohol consumption take place in someone's apartment while I'm surrounded by a bunch of friends I love and trust. Getting a bit soused with your friends can be a great way to bond -- it demonstrates your faith in them because you're willing to let down your defenses and make yourself vulnerable. \n However, if you have to be smashed to have a good time with your friends, then you obviously keep some pretty lousy company. I guess what I'm trying to say is don't be afraid to grow up and see alcohol for what it really is -- not danger, not adventure, not bottled sex appeal. It's just a drink.