It's inevitable. This weekend, every single one of us will get sucked into a conversation with at least one crusty, close-talking alum with whiskey on his breath rambling on about the good ol' days. You know, before students and College administrators bastardized Green Key by replacing late-night revelry with Bingo Night. Before the fraternity system traded in smooth brews for Keystone and started putting loft on their pong shots. But despite these changes, we should realize that what we have this Green Key is ours and that's all that matters.
I cannot deny that we have let a fair share of the old Green Key traditions fail. We no longer have the Outdoor Sleep, when couples consecrated their love on mattresses shipped out to the golf course, as they did in the early 1960s. Admittedly, we are no longer formally allowed to hurl food at our newly-elected student body representatives (lookout for flying Collis meatballs, Tanner ), or demolish pianos with a sledgehammer in the Green Key piano smashing competition. And, much to the delight of the women's and gender studies department I'm sure, The Dartmouth no longer prints the names of the women bussed into campus to serve as Green Key dates. In fact, we've stopped the bussing practice altogether, with the inclusion of women as students.
But not all has been lost, and lots has been gained. Alpha Delta's Lawn Party is still alive and kicking. The Green Key Ball made a triumphant, albeit underwhelming, return last year to the list of events. And, most importantly, the spirit of overindulgence and self-destruction still rules Dartmouth's highest of holy weekends. Green Key is still a time to celebrate with beer and secret potions in sunshine, and drinks that will get you far beyond socially lubricated. It's 48-144 hours of partying and ponging and dancing and flirting.
Let me ask you this, Mr. Nostalgic Alum. How were the Green Key dance parties back in your day? Did you ever walk into Heorot and see 500 sweaty peers doing a little new-age thing the kids call "grindin'" to some throbbing techno beatz? And did your Green Key start on the previous Monday and keep trucking until Sunday? Did you have innovative neologisms like "dayfratting" and "bro-ing out" to describe the revelry of the golden days? That's right, we no longer "have swell times" at our "shindig." Hell, I bet you don't even know who Sammy Adams is.
It's unquestionable that the Green Key of today is miles above that of yesteryear. So maybe we do listen to a little too much Ke$ha, and the Hanover Police could potentially send its underage minions into our fraternity parties at any moment. But we have deracinated the sexism and property destruction a large chunk of it, at least of this celebration, keeping the best of the old traditions and replacing the others with more exhilarating and culturally appropriate events and activities.
So as you flip through this special issue of The D and read about the traditions that we've lost and the quotes by the '56 about how awesome Green Key was with the advent of the Twist and piano destruction, don't be dismayed. What we have now is what you'll remember in 20 years, when you're back on campus for Green Key talking to a 2034 about the good old days. So enjoy it, and have a happy, safe and fun Green Key.
