Cabot House

As Housing Day approaches, FlyBy will serve as your personal rating agency with a complete rundown by a resident of each House. Not that you have any say (River Gods notwithstanding), but at least you’ll know whether your portfolio is getting a downgrade.

Somewhere, in a land known among common folk as “the Quad,” there is a House called Cabot. Trouble is, no one’s quite certain of where that fabled complex lies, and few other than its mostly anonymous residents have actually been there.

Location: Anyone? Ironically, although Cabot buildings surround three quarters of the Quad yard, most visitors automatically assume they’re at Pfoho and couldn’t point to Cabot it they tried.

Rooming: One word – hype. Caboteers convince themselves on Housing Day that the mythic spatial bounty of Cabot’s rooms will amply compensate for the erstwhile frustration of Quad life. In reality, it’s those (rare) days spent sunning in the yard that make it okay that the River deities chose not to smile on your blocking group.

The truth about rooming is that most rising sophomores looking for a single next year will get one. Before you pee yourself, though, consider: communal bathrooms (with spotty shower-curtain coverage), no party space on your floor (or in your building, for that matter), and the likelihood that you’ll be living adjacent to someone who’s either genuinely crazy (or a sex maniac) might deflate your excitement. Upperclassmen have more to look forward to, as Cabot has a wide variety of spacious suites. But with an interior design scheme conceivably chosen by former resident Helen Keller, Cabot’s social spaces leave much to be desired.

Dining Hall: Geriatric. Cabot, its dining space marked by a horrific “retirement home” ambiance, impresses as Havard’s most reliable example of d-hall fail. And while the staff always manages to maintain a chipper demeanor, it’s rarely enough to kick the feeling that you’re eating in Pfoho’s afterthought of a basement.

Also, don’t count on Cabot’s brain-break to satisfy your p.m. hunger. A penchant for frenzied mutilation must run strong in Cabot’s veins, because by 9:30/10, what’s left on the snack table is typically little more than crust-less scraps of bread and the wrangled remains of what was once a cupcake.

House List: Cabot-open, while generally confined to activity-related spam, is nonetheless the venue of several heated threads each semester. Recent debates have pitted tutors Fiery Cushman ’03 against Sam Lipoff over whether batteries are safely disposable, as well as sparking public admonitions on the part of some residents of other Caboteers’ smoking/incense habits.

House Masters: After a six-year tenure as Masters, Jay and Cheryl Harris have certainly carved out a perfect place in Cabot life. The couple feels as comfortable joining students for dinner as they do welcoming them into their home for the frequent Open Houses, which Cheryl is known to provision with baked goods of her own creation. House administrator Susan Livingston is the lovable director of Cabot’s storied theater program, and superintendent Mike Russell is the ever-patient warden of Cabot’s physical facilities. In a House where the Masters know every student by name, the administrative staff is a definite strong point.

House Culture: Periodic. Bi-monthly Stein clubs and Open Houses aside, let’s get down to the meat of the matter – Cabot’s residents don’t really spend too much time cultivating House culture. Don’t get me wrong, 63 Linnaean is home to a colorful variety of folks – Powerade-downing bros, Pudding members, and everyone in between – but many of Cabot’s more interesting spaces (a darkroom?!?) remain empty.

What’s more, Cabot’s main House-wide party, Mardi Gras, pales in comparison to those thrown by neighboring Currier and Pfoho. This year, the event attracted more security staff and bartenders than students – I guess Chex-mix and DJ Strauss no longer pull in the crowd they used to.

The Verdict: Junk.* Cabot may fall short of the spirit of some River Houses, and lacks the party reputation that Currier has so carefully cultivated, but it offers a peaceful, reliable shelter from the bustle of Harvard Square proper. Whether that’s enough to offset the many missed shuttles caused by the dining hall’s erratic digital shuttle schedule is a question with which new residents will be forced to grapple…

*Ratings run as such: [AAA > AA > A > BBB > junk > subprime]