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No Kids Allowed

A disgruntled alum speaks his mind

By The Crimson Staff, None

To the Esteemed Harvard Crimson:

I am writing to express my deep indignation upon hearing that our prestigious university’s most sacred of structures, the Harvard Faculty Club, will soon be profaned. I fear that this hallowed hall—once the very epicenter of intellectual conversation and civilized debate—will now become the stomping grounds for this university’s lowest specimen of vermin: students.

I, accustomed to taking my 5 o’clock scotch in the company of other well-mannered gentlemen, blanch at the notion of hooligans loitering among us. They threaten our quietude, with their newfangled dungarees and brimmed caps turned askew, and not so much as a single article of tweed! They scream along to their wild rock-and-roll music—all fans of those British, mop-headed Insects, or Beetles, or whatnot—and exhibit all manner of inappropriate merriment.

With all due respect, I spent 40 years interacting with these so-called students—an aspect of the university I have never understood. Now, in my golden years, I ask nothing more than to relax without the incessant chatter of young ’uns, brimming with energy for no explicable reason. They will arrive, seeking pleasure on a Saturday night, and might even take sherry to the point of wooziness: for shame! They will then slur their speech and stumble about in an unrefined manner. An utter disgrace to this university! These troublemakers remain out until all hours of the night (I have seen them frolicking about past the 9 o’clock hour), when all decent individuals have long since retired for the evening. They speak in vulgarities, spewing phrases like “gosh darn it” and “shucks,” not to mention their fixation on playing table tennis in the wee hours of the morning. Do they not realize that sportsmanship should take place only in daylight?

Allowing them to commingle with your heralded patrons threatens to upend the fundamental values upon which this University was built. When these ruffians invade, with their disc jockeys and general enthusiasm for life, our last bastion of civilized society will sadly cease to exist.


Kind Regards,

Disgruntled Alum ’37

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