Binge drinking

Wildcat File Photo Arizona Summer Wildcat Brad Wallace

I just got back to Tucson after seven mind-blowing weeks in the Midwest, weeks in which I longed so desperately for the 3 percent humidity and sober reason of Arizona. Some initial words of advice: avoid any "downtown" that has more churches than bars, friends.

During my long absence from Arizona, I had no television, no mail, no interactive Web demos and no carefully calculated MTV contests, so I was completely out of touch with current events until last night when I read Newsweek. There, I stumbled on to a secret so shocking, so cutting-edge, so very on the pulse of young America as to make you weak: According to Newsweek's crack investigative unit, college students are "Dying for a Drink."

As evidence, they present the tragedy of Scott Krueger, a frat boy at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology who, believe it or not, drank irresponsibly during a party at his house. Sadly, his drunken brethren continued to feed him tequila poppers, resulting in the unfortunate and untimely death of Mr. Krueger. When did people start drinking at these "frat parties?" Can college students get beer? Aren't there laws to prevent this sort of thing from happening? Didn't his friends feel just a little bit guilty after feeding Scott his 29th shot of whiskey?

I, for one, am glad to be attending a responsible university where "80 percent of Wildcats have less than four drinks when they party!" That particular bit of self-aggrandizement has always been especially funny. This is the university where, on my first night at college, I had to step over comatose drunks in my hallway, and I've seen at least two people come within one drunken sip of alcohol poisoning. And I'm not even in a fraternity.

My friends are good students, some even in the prestigious University of Arizona honors college, all dedicated to serving the world and becoming well-rounded graduates. We take keys, and we try not to feed each other too much alcohol. None of us have died, and, saving some intense moments at the Mexican border, few of us have even been that sick. You'll get no high-handed morality message here, a bittersweet cry for moderation mixed with a return to good old fashioned American values. Instead, some truth:

College students drink. A lot. Some of us will become alcoholics. Some of us will die. Some of us will vote Republican. To consume any CNS depressant is to walk the fine line between euphoria and depressed vital signs. Expert medical opinion urges abstinence from alcohol, and long term studies have proven that it really is absolutely no good for you, except maybe a glass of wine every day if you live in France.

Insert the usual gibberish about why people smoke, or drink, or do drugs, here. You know, the babble about the pressures of the modern world, and how our mechanized society has eliminated the purely human experience, driving people in fits of Kafka-induced rage to hit the bottle night after night... Bottom line: it feels good, it's cheap, and all the cool people in the movies do it.

Selfish gratification cost the life of Scott Krueger. Not MIT, not his parents, not even the much-disparaged Greek system. Sure, he was a freshman, and at a sensitive time in his life when exposure to beer and women certainly played a crucial role in his development. Nonetheless, we can assume that word had spread even as far as MIT about alcohol, and that Krueger was very aware that drinking leads to drunkenness, and possible death. Knowing that, just like thousands of freshmen every year at UA, he chose to drink.

It's miserably hot. A few icy cold ones can certainly do much to improve the perceived temperature, and to improve the Tucson nightlife. Tonight, I encourage everyone of age to enjoy one on me, and to maybe make a little toast for Scott Krueger's family.

Brad Wallace is a senior majoring in molecular and cellular biology and creative writing.