So they're taking Tubestock, and frankly, I'm not as upset as I should be. You see, I am an '07 and as such I have already experienced Tubestock. At least I think I experienced Tubestock. You can never be completely sure whether or not that day ever really happened, but such is the nature of the 'Stock and such is why no one is really going to miss it all that much. They simply do not remember it actually happening.
Oh sure, I remember the little things: Kyle Waters' face explosion on the deck of the AD raft, unsolicited breast flashing, solicited ball flashing and the unicorn parade. On the whole though, I'm pretty sure it was just four or five hours of being dangerously blacked-out on a river, with no lifeguard, and 1,000 other sophomores flexing and boozing till the sun went down.
Is it a shame that future generations will miss out on the festivities? Certainly the loss of the ball flashing is significant, but if we put some commitment to the cause I'll bet we can come up with some other event to fill this void. Maybe we could house collections of 60 or 70 college-aged men around campus to better facilitate this?
But truthfully I don't mean to sound so flip about the fall of the 'Stock. In all seriousness, there is a lot to love about Tubestock and should it be crushed by the pog slammer that is Parkhurst, some vestige of that which makes Sophomore Summer what it is will be lost.
For one, the raft construction process will certainly be missed. Hours spent in the midday sun, my buddies and me sweating like Michael Jackson at Discovery Zone, rhythmically swinging rubber hammers and pong paddles to the music of the summer construction vehicles and police sirens. It truly brought us together.
We made jokes about each other's unsightly body hair and physical shortcomings, laughing away the days and crying away the nights. And at the end of it all, we had an 80-square foot carpeted wood board that kind of floated for a few hours before splintering down the middle, shoveling sorority girls into the muddy waters of the Connecticut River. The fruits of a job well done!
I contacted retired Raft Admiral Robert Hale '07 for a few words on the subject, and when the issue of Tubestock cancellation was raised the man simply crumbled at my feet, rocking in the fetal position, muttering something about giant blue barrels and bone saws. When I asked Mr. Hale to elaborate, he vom'd-up his Muscle Milk Sautee and simply offered, "Without Tubestock, there is no Rob Hale." After I pummeled him for speaking in the third person, I took him out for some Alpine Strawberry Fro-Yo and explained to him that the beating was far harder on me than it could ever have been on him.
Now I suppose half of you out there actually have no idea what I'm talking about. You are either feeble-minded, stoned or of the '08 and '09 classes. Many, I feel it is fair to assume, are all of the above. For your edification, I suppose I should give a quick approximation of what exactly you will be missing should Tubestock go the way of Hammer Pants.
Def: Tube - stock (n): 1) President Wright's favorite day of the year to dust off the old binoculars and do a little 'bird-watching' away from the missus. 2) One day in late July when throngs of underage Dartmouth students wake at noon, blow a handle of Jose and don half a thread of a bathing suit (read: board shorts and Keystone Tat) before weaving down the hill and across the bridge to board home-made rafts and to shiver their way down the Connecticut River. Twenty minutes into this experience, the students realize that the river has a current. Only then do they realize that because of said current, they will actually be spending the greater part of the day drunkenly towing their rafts back north, against the river, only to watch it happen again 15 minutes later. 3) Comical misspelling of tubesock.
To put it in more personal terms, Allan Reynolds '07 sums the depth of his tubestock experience up nicely: "No lies, I peaked on July 23, 2005. It was Tubestock. It was the day of my birth. And there were no parents." Aside from the bizarre existential questions Mr. Reynolds brings up, he raises a very good point. There were indeed no parents; something that perhaps could be said about the entirety of Sophomore Summer.
Now I know that many of you are probably angry with me for virtua-hosing on a Dartmouth Tradition that you hold dear to your hearts. I can sympathize. I assure you I felt the same betrayal when I heard that Eddie Duszelak was dropping out of the Student Assembly Presidential Race.
Either way, something needs to be done. Whether it be the creation of an ineffectual student committee to write whiny letters to the State Legislature, the contracting of "Walker, Texas Ranger" to sway the politicians using stare-downs and crotch adjustment, or the formation of an altogether new Summer Tradition to take its place. We, of course, would need a tradition so steeped in Dartmouthness that both the student body and the administration would be forced to throw their collective girth behind the project and heave it into Dartmouth Lore (Hi Food Court Larry!). I'll get the ball rolling with a few ideas to replace Tubestock that have been bouncing around in my head
1) Campus-wide game of Marco Polo with Dean Lord as all-time "it." Upsides: This idea really manages to hold on to the aquatic integrity of Tubestock, while discouraging the unabated alcohol consumption. To achieve this, we must make it clear that when Dean Lord captures you, he is allowed to give you swirlies until you concede defeat. Needless to say, this is a horrific thought; one that assures the students will want to have all their faculties at the ready to prevent such a fate. Major downside: The first time Dean Lord makes the "fish-out-of-water" call, all of us financial-aid or foreign-born students would be automatically out, causing a mass exodus of teary-eyed, sober, uncool kids.
2) Linda Kennedy Competitive Eating Spectacle: Each phrat offers up their most voracious EBAs disposal to try and down a party-pack and a half before Linda Kennedy manages to refer to the food as "sizzling hot 'za." Needless to say, such an undertaking is nearly impossible. However, after hearing about the idea, Rob Friedman '08 quickly jumped on board. "It's hard for a little guy to be commanding the respek he deserves at this college. I know that if you dropped the kid down in front of the pack and let the kid do his thing, the ladies would be sweating my styles." Rob Hale then pummeled him for speaking in the third person.
3) S&S Summer Fashion Extravaganza: Officers Willey and Timmons display the latest summer styles in hunter green rent-a-cop wear. Major upside: Timmons in UPS-Guy shorts. Major downside: Timmons in UPS-Guy Shorts.
4) Big-Green Bike-A-Thon: In my opinion, this would serve as a great nightcap to the daytime fashion show. After a hearty dinner (Read: Pabst Blue Ribbon, Double Billy Bob and a pack of Marlboro Reds) the sophomores would convene on the green with kerosene-soaked t-shirts, hockey sticks, and as many SA bikes as they could muster. Moving in flying-V formation, the bicyclists would advance on the house of Dr. Sal, flashing gang signs and rocking old-school Gregorian chant. When they arrived at their destination, the mob would express their gratitude to the Man of the Hour by presenting him with a doo-rag that read World's Greatest Landlord. The rag may, or may not, reek of cat pee.
And, quite honestly, these ideas only scratch the surface. It seems to me that we need to look at the demise of Tubestock not as the death of a time-honored tradition but instead as an opportunity to start anew and create, from its ashes, an even greater Dartmouth experience. I will be taking other suggestions and blitzing out the winner when I find one that truly strikes a chord. Send all submissions to Amanda.K.Dobbins@dartmouth.edu. In the mean time, all I can offer to the class of 2008 is that they try to keep an open mind and if all else fails just repeat the mantra: '06X No Parents!
