So I thought to myself, if I could change one thing about Princeton, what would it be?
And immediately following that, I thought to myself, how can I possibly choose only one thing? There’s so much that needs to be fixed, improved or just plain switched around that it’s hard to know where to start. I suppose the only way to decide would be to select five favorites and hold some sort of lottery or, more entertainingly, assign each idea to one of five evenly matched opponents in an all-out brawl — last man standing wins. But it doesn’t really matter, since past experience cheerily informs us that these changes aren’t going to happen anyway. So why not list them all? Here goes:
First, Frist. The piano. GET RID OF IT. I have never seen it employed for any useful or constructive purpose. Anyone who plays that piano is either practicing, in which case they should use the specifically designated practice rooms in Woolworth, or showing off, in which case they should just be smacked. In case you didn’t know, kid who plays the piano, you are annoying the following groups of people: the people watching TV, the people in the C-Store, the people studying along the balcony, the people studying by Cafe Viv, the people playing pool, the people at the welcome desk and everyone in the gallery. Way to go, douchebag — even Adam Sandler at his most unfunny can’t annoy that many people at once.
The next two problems both concern campus architecture. First, Spelman. No, I don’t want to get rid of it because of its ungainly trying-too-hard-to-be-modern style; I just want to fix the drainage around that one section of sidewalk so that every time it rains I don’t have to part the Red Sea to get to the Wawa, the proverbial land of milk and $3.99 flatbread sandwiches. Second, I would like to renovate all of the archways in some way, whether dismantling them, filling them with stone or simply lining their walls with acoustic foam in an effort to curb the dangerous overproliferation of a cappella on this campus. Perhaps the cheapest method would be to hire groups of instrumental performers to wait in the arches at all times in case unaccompanied singing breaks out.
Next item: Quintessentially Princeton. Every year, the University sends these utterly worthless little booklets out to freshmen, prospective freshmen and even retrospective freshmen. What lies beneath that black cover with orange binding I can only guess; I myself have never read past the first word (“quintessentially”). The text is available in an online edition (which no one still reads, but whatever), so I say, why not eliminate the print form altogether? We’d be doing the environment a big favor. Unless, of course, the resulting saved paper is used to craft an armada of tiny boats and subsequently floated down Lake Carnegie, wasting thousands of reams and probably drowning several geese.
And so we come to my final change. Some of you are probably thinking, “Dammit, I’ll bet this one is maybe a little serious and poignant even though he promised not to do that!” You should stop reading now. For the rest of you, the last thing I’d like to change about Princeton is the cynical attitude we students sometimes (though not always) exhibit. We spend so much time complaining about little things like rogue piano players and pointless pamphlets that we lose sight of the big picture. Sure, there are always ways we can improve it, but it’s occasionally nice to remember the ways it’s improved us.
Don’t get me wrong, Princeton. I’m definitely ready to leave you. But I am also grateful to have known you. And with that flowery nostalgia, dear readers, farewell.
Brandon Lowden is an electrical engineering major from McKees Rocks, Pa. He can be reached at blowden@princeton.edu.