COLUMN: "Reasons to Bust Underage Drinkers"

From Nathaniel Cade's "The Sherriff of Ridge Rock," Fall '92 Away from home for the first time, living with the opposite sex on the same floor, borrowing a fake ID to gain entrance into one of the local drinking establishments, being arrested for said entrance into the local drinking establishment, observing the actions of one of your cell mates, "Mother," as he contemplates who will get him cigarettes, and having your parents notified of you malicious attempt to skirt the law? (Your mother will invariably say you have disgraced the family.) Doesn't sound like that idealistic Ivy League campus you were going to attend, nestled along the scenic banks of the Schuykill River in the heart of Philadelphia? The LCE has arrived on campus -- if not to be a pain in our ass, then just to put a cramp in our "serious studies" outside of the classroom. The LCE, or Pennsylvania Liquor Control Enforcement agency, is that government body charged with insuring both the purity of the state's beer and the purity of the state's underage partygoers. I've often wondered what makes the LCE and its director so adamant -- I just bought a thesaurus. Neat, huh? -- about trying to arrest minors for possession and consumption of alcohol. This is not "21 Jump Street," people. I could understand their actions if this were Kansas or Iowa and they were worried about moonshine and cow-tipping, but it's not. In order to get into bars in West Philadelphia, minors must transgress a crime-infested quagmire of vast proportions. The increased distances they must travel off-campus raise the chances they could be shot at, mugged, attacked or verbally assaulted while pursuing a social release, inebriation or unadulterated lust. So to make us all feel a little better and safer, the LCE has taken it upon itself to ensure that minors will be forced away from campus and the protection -- and the police -- it affords. You've got to love sound governmental policies. Don't get me wrong. I am no condoning the actions of the minors in question. They are breaking the law. But I never saw the LCE or the Department of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms raid my Catholic church and arrest the parish priests for letting me have a little wine on a Sunday morning. · Note to all freshmen: If you must drink, then get a good fake ID. Don't just use your older sibling's license. Use their birth certificate and get a brand spanking new license, with your picture on it, from your friendly Department of Motor Vehicles. Also get one of you sibling's credit cards. Just have them report it lost. Few bars or restaurants can turn away a real driver's license and a Visa at the front door? · The actions of the LCE have been devastating to the fraternities as well. (For those members of the community who are applauding this statement due to their misguided hatred of Greeks, let me point out some flawed, yet true logical thinking.) If these raids continue, then Greeks will host more closed, private functions. If there are more private functions and if you must either know someone within the system or be in the system to attend these functions, then more students will want to join the system. If more students want to join, then more Greek houses will be provided for them. You're not so gleeful anymore, are you? But what is really the LCE director's beef with Penn? With careful research -- being drunk on a Tuesday night talking with imaginary friends does count -- I believe I have answered this perplexing question. While at Penn, the director of the LCE must have been socially inept. Unfortunately, this little guy was probably placed in King's Court rather than the Quad. To further complicate his increasing hatred for the "system," he undoubtedly was rejected -- due to his lack of social graces -- from the one fraternity that had captivated his heart, Phi Kappa Psi. No doubt, his advances toward women were frequently spurned, often before he could profess his love. Even Candice Bergen wouldn't -- well, you know -- with him. (He should have read my previous column.) Distraught, he must have left school to attend junior college. But first, he evidently vowed to seek his revenge against those who had caused him downfall -- or rather, those who informed him that he really didn't have far to fall. You don't believe me? Well, how else could you explain the actions of a diminutive, unloved state official stuck in low-paying, dead-end government job with a measly budget and no possibility for career advancement? I rest my case. Nathaniel Cade is a senior Economics and Political Science major from Detroit, Michigan. "The Sheriff of Ridge Rock" appears alternate Thursdays.