I’m exhausted. I’m sweating. My stomach feels like its tearing itself to shreds. I can’t do anything. I feel like I’m about to shit my Nantucket red pants. I need to lie down. Do I have swine flu? No. I ate from the hot line at Harris Fine Dining. Maybe it’s easy to attack Harris Fine Dining, or maybe they should stop serving the “ham with fruit topping.”
An entire article dedicated to demeaning Harris Fine Dining would be similar to fishing with dynamite or looking good in Nantucket red pants
Additionally, many of our most humble students have raised this to an art form we dare not rival.
While Harris Fine Dining may provide a quick easy fix much like a freshman hookup, some are looking for more meaningful experiences. Food is more than just fuel. Food is a focal point of all life. Civilizations may rise and fall with their food supplies. Which explains why the great nation of America has innovated yellow cake. Yellow is not a flavor, and I am not interested in tasting a color unless it’s Nantucket red on a pair of sharp looking pants.
Food connects people to each other and to their community.
While Harris Fine Dining is convenient, it divorces us from the New London community. Imagine how much more involved we would be if students frequented Fiddleheads Food Coop, and volunteered there ten hours a month for the ten percent discount. Imagine if they worked for F.R.E.S.H. New London for fruits and vegetables. Imagine how much more colorful downtown New London would be if a few stylish gents were there sporting their Nantucket reds.
But this is bigger than Harris Fine Dining and our collegiate food ways. This is an article about the meaning of a liberal arts education. Having the college take care of meals, utilities, maintenance, and the like allows students to accomplish a great deal, but it also limits our exposure to the responsibilities of life that become our realities after graduation.
There are few experiences more educational than living on your own, rather than living in our convenient bubble. These experiences, like finer cheeses, ripen with age, but the results can be quite shocking.
Many college students leave for the real world feeling like they have just woken up with a hangover after their metaphorical tent dance. Some students may graduate feeling that having mouse trap fights, uprooting various exotic plants or wearing Nantucket red pants is acceptable real world behavior (hint: it is not).
We do not advocate that the college mandate off-campus housing. But the current system is flawed in that students applying for specialty housing miss the deadline for off campus housing applications.
While recommendations for the college administrations are as numerous as Nantucket red pants, we humbly suggest that the college encourage more off campus housing to foster personal responsibility.
