COLUMN: A dearth of communal experience

From Daniel Fienberg's, "The Fien Print," Fall '99 From Daniel Fienberg's, "The Fien Print," Fall '99No matter what happens to the Kingpin-obsessed brothers of SAM, they have my vote for a permanent seat on the Tangible Change Committee. After all, for two years now, I've been using this column as a bully pulpit advocating the construction of a bowling alley on campus. Yup. The boys of SAM were on a quest for the rarest of things 'round these parts -- a communal experience. Clubs don't count. Too much organization. General fraternity and sorority activities don't count, because brotherhoods and sisterhoods are just, well, different. Going to the movies doesn't work because even if you're sitting with a cross-section of the Penn student body, the surroundings beg for silence. Ditto with our excellent performing arts productions and concerts. Even Eat at Joe's, something of a mini-triumph for the area, often is too loud to be truly social. Certainly there are moments at Penn when you can feel a part of something bigger: a Without a Net show when the crowd feels free to blurt out anything, or a poetry reading at Writer's House where we can all gather together to realize how pleasantly pretentious we can be, or a preceptorial where faculty and students from disparate background create temporary academic unity. I'm sure that those who were there would also agree that the victories over Harvard in football and Temple in basketball were glorious events where the athletes, cheerleaders and crowd actually worked together and the deafening roar of the Penn population was something to feel genuinely proud of. But too often I remember that we go to a student center-less school. It isn't so much that we all need a Houston Hall, but we certainly need the opportunities and environment that it often provided. However, since renovations began on the century-old building, the University's attempts to encourage unity have either seemed desperately retail oriented -- Xando and Starbucks, while pleasantly caffeinated only bring students together in scary ways -- or just desperate. I love the idea of the new community floors but this manufacturing of group pride isn't quite Filreisian yet. We're left at a point where school officials condemn fraternity parties, but don't look around long enough to see how limited the options are if you want to get together in a clump and meet people. All of this brings me to this weekend. In case you haven't noticed, there's a little fiesta down in Miami. Few events in all the world produce the same amount of hype, glitz and inevitable letdown as the Super Bowl. My sources tell me that this year's event will feature more than its share of pregame prognosticating -- all Chris Berman all the time -- and thrilling commercials, including one featuring the Penn ice cream geek. And of course there are the joyous madrigals -- if featured acts like Cher, Stevie Wonder and Gloria Estefan are listed in your Yellow Pages under "joy-inducing substances." And it's all topped topped off with the postgame Fox cartoons. That's entertainment. As long as Penn continues to ignore my plea for a real pool hall, bowling alley or smokey jazz club, this year's Super Bowl -- which as an added bonus may also include a decent football game -- is the perfect opportunity to fit a hundred of your friends, acquaintances and enemies into your living room. Bond, relate, eat glutinous globs of onion dip and try to imagine that all of your college experience has been like this. Go to Chats if they're open or Shula's if you can fit in the door and revel in the idea that you're not alone, even if you don't know a soul. It's the kind of thing that supposed to happen around here, but all too rarely does. Super Bowl Sunday should be a reminder that getting together with random people -- getting together does not mean hooking up -- in a loose group can sometimes be almost as much fun as petty vandalism. And both together? Well, that's a subject for a different frame. Er, column.