Singing to the Moon

I remember seeing pictures of hell as a child. They never made any sense. They never looked right. Heaven was the same way - too bright, too many wings and halos. But false is comforting sometimes. 

It's scary to think about these images now, some 15 years later. As a child, it's all about first impressions. If hell meant fire and heaven meant perfection, then what was left for in-between? My father once told me, after a few pints, that his greatest fear is purgatory. His greatest fear is not being good enough for heaven and knowing it for the rest of eternity. 

But now that I'm older, the fiery illustrations of hell fade. Uncertainty takes a tighter hold everyday. Is Lucifer's home just an eternity with physical and personal demons? Melting and burning for our sins? Or is it silence? No more chances to charm a lover. No more punchlines at the bar after a 12-hour day. What if hell is just a long walk home in the dark filled with self-loathing. No street signs visible. No directions worth giving. 

What if hell is just a journey with no more adventures, like the last rotten steps before you surrender to sleep's warm embrace. 

Away

you hear
footsteps following
the low hum of an
outdated vacuum.

family voices echo
and the floor's creaking
serenades -
too stubborn to
give way.

this place glorifies
Saturday afternoons
with stick swords
and frost-colored war cries
dancing
across the creek.

you've never been here,
but a piece of you
lives
in these walls.

it's walked through
the half-broken doors.
it's smelled the burnt matches
and aged Merlot.

it keeps whispering
songs of
escape.

promises pleasure
like
the street-corner
muses.

it's the same piece of yourself
driving away
from your mother,
and Sundays,
and the backyard.

they say you go crazy in places
like this.

the water's too close.
the trees are naked and
broken.

it's too far from
neon
and buildings mimicking
Babel.

they say you go crazy
on winter's darkest days
too.

maybe
you only go crazy
if you
want.

but azaleas and laurels
always find new reason
to bloom.

Natty Light Sunrise: A Look at the College Drinking Culture

The spotlights at the Arena Bar and Grill outshine glowing Christmas decorations when you’re onstage singing karaoke.

Just thinkin’ about tomorrow, clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow…

I shouldn’t be on the stage with a microphone. I shouldn’t be turning as red as the stockings hanging throughout the bar. I shouldn’t be singing a hit Broadway tune with my toneless baritone that’s normally reserved for shower performances.

But, I am. And my friends chuckle from the safety of their booth, knowing quite well that a dare and a few liquor pitchers are the only reasons they’re watching me fail…epically.

Wednesday nights usually aren’t this rowdy for me at Penn State. According to a report released by the office of Student Affairs Research and Assessment, Wednesday night isn’t a big drinking night for most students, with about 13 percent of the student population admitting to drinking on Wednesday in 2011 (about 70 percent said they were drinking on Friday and Saturday).

Regardless of what night, Penn State has a well-known drinking culture like other schools of its size. Tailgates with mountains of beer-filled coolers can be seen at every home football game. Lines at bars stretch well pass the entrance on the weekends. Students even created their own drinking holiday, known as State Patty’s Day, when they realized they would miss out on the debauchery associated with St. Patrick’s Day because of spring break.

Although I make it to my classes on Thursday, the damage is done. I drag my feet from building to building and sit, zombie-like, in each of my classes before I get back to the scene of the crime. I decline a few invitations for drinks because I have work in the morning.

“Time to get back up on that pony,” one friend texts.

The obvious attempts at peer pressure do little to move me from my living room Futon. I know that if I go out, I won’t make it to work the next morning.

“There’s this mentality of going out to get drunk,” Suzanne Zeman, coordinator of educational services for the office of Health Promotion and Wellness at Penn State, says of students who attend the university.

Zeman, a registered nurse who oversees the university’s Brief Alcohol Screening and Intervention for College Students (BASICS), says Penn State’s drinking culture is similar to other schools.

“A lot of the universities like Penn State have been dealing with this issue for decades,” she says about drinking in college.

Zeman says tailgates with alumni reliving their college days might give students the wrong impression. And pre-gaming, drinking before a party, with shots of liquor is becoming increasingly popular, which leads to a higher risk of emergency room visits and trouble with the law.

“Some of the students, when we talk to them, most of their negative experiences that they’ve had with alcohol were with liquor,” she says.  

A majority of students are referred to the BASICS program because of some sort of alcohol-related incident, Zeman says. Some students were caught with one beer in a residence hall, while others were rushed to the ER with high blood alcohol concentrations.

Health educators screen students for anxiety and depression during the first session and ask questions about the students’ alcohol use. A week or so later, students return for a feedback session and more one-on-one discussion.

“They’re sent here to do the program, but that doesn’t mean they want to change anything,” Zeman says. “It’s driven by them. It’s about what they feel confident they can do.”

In a combined effort, the student and health educator discuss the possibility of an action plan for manageable changes in the student’s drinking patterns, as well as strategies on how to execute the plan such as counting drinks and setting a limit.

“Sometimes that word ‘change’ can be a big deal because students are expecting that they are going to come in and we’re going to judge them for what they did,” she says.

Zeman says the program tries to educate students on the problems with binge drinking. She says most students begin to binge drink in college, but some have been doing it since high school.

According to the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism, binge drinking is when a person drinks enough alcohol within two hours that their BAC levels reach 0.08. Long-term effects of binge drinking include liver and heart damage, among other organs.

Zeman slides a chart to the middle of her desk and begins to talk about something called the Biphasic Response to Alcohol.

Alcohol, a depressant, has two phases or effects on people. The initial phase, she says, is a feeling of stimulation or excitement. This is followed by the second phase of feeling tired.

“After a student reaches the point of diminishing return, there is less of the good feelings,” Zeman says.

The point of diminishing return occurs at a BAC of about .06. Zeman says maintaining a BAC lower or equal to that can lead to a good night, void of nausea and the infamous hangover.

Zeman, who has seen most of the negative effects of Penn State’s drinking culture, says there will never be a strategy to completely avoid the problem of an excessive drinking culture, but giving students information on alcohol and encouraging change in drinking behaviors is what she and her colleagues try to do through BASICS.

“It is what it is,” she says, not sounding defeated by the problem. “There are fluctuations year-to-year, but in general, I think it’s an issue we deal with and face a lot.”

* * * * * * * * * *

My small loft apartment is cluttered Saturday with red Solo cups, most of which are half-empty with warm, stale Belgium wheat beer.  

Friday night’s party died naturally, with most of the guests leaving when they had their fill of booze, but not before some unknown culprit vomited in the bathroom. An unwelcomed gift for the host.

Whoever left their dinner in my shower didn’t know when to stop. Much like after karaoke when my roommates and some other guests continued drinking until 6 a.m., a few hours after I went to bed. They started an impromptu fire outside the apartment because it seemed like a “good idea” at the time.

The cop who showed up didn’t think so.

And then Saturday night there was the young woman who, after being kicked out of one bar, wanted to continue her bar tour at another drinking establishment.

Standing in the harsh, December cold, my friend Matt and I decline the invitation.

I’ve had one too many shots and can feel my eyes getting heavier from the lack of sleep. I know my limits, and another bar feels more like torture at this point in the night.  

College is full of drinkers who want to extend their nights and parties. Many have had one or two reckless nights when they can’t recall how they made it home. They swear never to drink like that again.

Then there are those who have a definite problem. There is no “off” switch for these drinkers.

Jason Whitney, an education professor at Penn State, knows what’s like to push unhealthy drinking limits in college. The recovering alcoholic of 21 years and faculty advisor for the Lions for Recovery program on campus is frank when discussing his partying days at the University of Colorado at Boulder.

 “It’s a pretty common story about being wiped out from drinking in college,” Whitney says about his partying days. “By the time I’m done telling that story, students are falling all over themselves going, ‘that’s exactly how I drink’ or ‘I know exactly what you mean.”

Even after admitting to similar experiences, Whitney says that some of those students don’t think they have a problem. They don’t stick around to learn more.

Lions for Recovery is a student-run group that provides students in or considering recovery a support system. The group is affiliated with the national Collegiate Recovery Community.

After he realized he was blacking out every time he drank alcohol, Whitney decided to stop drinking while in college. He was 19 years old.

He says when he decided to get sober, the University of Colorado at Boulder already had a long-running Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. He found a “great new set of friends” there who were very supportive and serious about recovery.

“Seriously good friends,” he says. “Good people all around…I love those people.”

Now, at Penn State, Whitney works with both the CRC and LFR so students can experience the same kind of circumstances that he says saved his life. 

“People who suffer from alcoholism and drug addiction have a disease that tells them they don’t have a disease,” Whitney, who sponsors some Penn State students in recovery, says.

There are 18 students at Penn State who are currently in recovery through some part of the CRC program, he says. And, for those students and others pursuing sober living, it’s not easy…especially at Penn State.

“It’s really hard when you feel isolated,” he says. Whitney explains that a campus like Penn State could be classified as an “abstinence-hostile environment” because there is an expectation that “drinking should be happening.”

But the students in the program are ready to make the necessary commitment to recovery, he says.

“You can’t just change one aspect of your life,” he says about sober living. “You can’t just keep going to the bars and expect to last very long.”

“And you cannot do it just by avoiding the whole party scene either, because that doesn’t work. There is zero chance of recovery in just going at it alone for someone who is an alcoholic.”

Before his next meeting, Whitney takes a bite of his lunch, which has been largely neglected because of the interview.

Whitney says students who can’t control how much alcohol they have once they start drinking and can’t stop after they have really good reasons to stop need to get help. Future graduates who will be searching for employment soon need to consider their drinking habits because “if you’re blacking out consistently at Penn State, you’re going to be blacking out everywhere,” he says. 

There is a type of person who is known as a “hard drinker,” he explains, who can stop drinking when they are given sufficient reason. The hard drinker may get in trouble at work for something caused by their drinking and that will be enough motivation to stop.

“The alcoholic gets the same reprimand, means to stop and can’t,” Whitney says. “They don’t understand what alcoholism and drug addiction is…even people who really have the disease often don’t understand how it’s kicking their ass.” 

But, his other message is one of hope.

“Recovery is awesome,” he says. “I was learning a tremendous amount about myself and how to be a better person,” he says.

“It’s less lonely than drinking, even when you have hundreds of friends,” he adds, pausing briefly. “It’s actually less lonely.”

* * * * * * * * * *

As we walk away from the downtown action, I have to ask why Matt’s packing it in so early on a Saturday.

I’ve told him that I’m tired, but since he’s the same friend who harassed me earlier in the week after my night of karaoke, I can’t let him go without returning the favor.

“I have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow,” he says.

Before I have the chance for an encore performance, we shake hands and go our separate ways. 

The sun’ll come out, tomorrow…

I hum for a few more blocks, kicking an empty beer can before realizing that it already is tomorrow.

Good Times, High Times

For my second feature story, I talked to a current Penn State student about his experience with marijuana. Enjoy.

Tyler is smiling.

Earlier in the day he found out that he only needed one class to declare a minor.

“And now I’m minoring in environmental engineering,” he says, still smiling. “I was like [expletive] it, why not?”

But that’s not the only reason Tyler’s happy right now. Despite his dealer being unable to provide him with his weekly marijuana fix, Tyler was able to smoke some free of charge.

Yes, Tyler is high. And even though he decides not to share his last name, he isn’t quite as shy when discussing marijuana.

The senior majoring in civil engineering says he likes to play video games and watch visually stimulating movies like "Transformers " when he’s high.

But he doesn’t just melt into the sofa after he smokes. He likes to ride through the streets on his longboard and he says that his coordination isn’t affected much. Tyler’s more energetic after he smokes and likes to move around. 

Just the mention of his first experience with marijuana makes Tyler chuckle.

When he was 16, Tyler traveled to Vermont with his cousin to celebrate New Year’s Eve.

“It was awesome because it was the first party that I went to,” he says as he props his navy and neon green sneakers on a coffee table . “We were all chilling, and I just happened to find myself sitting in the circle and all of the sudden this kid takes out a cigar and starts emptying it.”

Tyler says he was confused at that moment. He had never seen marijuana before, let alone the process of rolling a blunt, which is when users remove the tobacco from a cigar and replace it with marijuana.

The blunt then made its way around the circle, eventually landing in Tyler’s hand.

“I didn’t even inhale it right,” he says. “I just got some smoke in my mouth and blew it out.”

Tyler didn’t get high that night. He says he only smoked a few more times before college, but once he arrived at Penn State, his usage increased.

“I made friends with people who had a ‘guy’ so then I had a connection too,” he says. “It was easier to get than alcohol because the dealer doesn’t care what age you are. You could be six years old, and they would sell it to you.”

Tyler remains animated as he talks, motioning with his hands like an orchestra conductor. Even with his glassy eyes and occasional hesitation, Tyler is an engaging conversationalist who admits he is just as honest when he’s sober.

He usually buys an eighth of an ounce of marijuana a week. Before he skates to class on his longboard, Tyler smokes from a homemade bong. Once he gets home, Tyler says he smokes from his pipe, also known as a bowl, a few times while completing schoolwork and relaxing.

Spending upwards of $60 a week on marijuana puts a strain on his budget, but Tyler says he only buys it if he can afford it.

“I told myself early on that I will never owe anybody money,” he says. “I don’t put myself in debt.” 

Money is just one of the factors that cause some students like Tyler to rethink their marijuana usage, says Suzanne Zeman, a registered nurse.

Zeman, the coordinator of educational services for the Health Promotion and Wellness office at Penn State, says most students enrolled in the Marijuana Intervention Program at the university are mandated to be there. A smaller percentage decide to join on their own.

It’s nice to get self-referrals in the program, because it usually means that either the student, a family member or a friend have already expressed some concern, she says.

“Just because they’re here, doesn’t mean they want to do anything different,” she says. “It just depends on the person and where they’re at, and we try to meet them where they’re at.”

Students in the program meet with a masters-level health educator to discuss their marijuana usage and the factors that may contribute to them changing their habits.

Through a method called “harm reduction,” Zeman, who has been overseeing the program for two years, says health educators try to find small, manageable changes students can make to their usage habits that may or may not translate into larger changes.  

The sessions are meant to be a conversational because when students start talking, they realize some negative effects they didn’t notice before, Zeman says.

“It has to be individualized because everyone has a different background, set of experiences and even family dynamic that all play into their drug use,” she says.

Zeman says some students in the program smoke before they go to bed because it helps them sleep. Others have dealt the drug. Some were even robbed trying to buy it. 

There is a common “risk-free” mindset among students who use marijuana because more research and advertising is going toward alcohol education, she says.

“I think there is this cultural perception that marijuana is safe because of the medical marijuana issue,” she says.

Marijuana is legalized for medical use in 18 states and the District of Columbia. While the drug does offer some medical benefits, scientists continue to research ways to make the use of the drug safer.

“We don’t get into a fact war with people,” Zeman says. “They can choose to believe whatever they want to believe, but if they share something with us that’s inaccurate, at least we can make sure they have correct information.”

And then there’s the issue of addiction.

According to the 2010 National Survey on Drug Use and Health, marijuana accounted for 4.5 million of the estimated 7.1 million Americans dependent on or abusing illicit drugs.

“Marijuana can be addictive just like other drugs can be addictive,” Zeman says. “Not that it’s the most harmful thing in the world, but it’s more about getting past this mentality that it’s safe.”

As a frequent user who has seen the drug affect friends in different ways, Tyler understands the debate over whether or not marijuana is addicting.

“Yes, I have seen people get too dependent on it, but kids like me just think that things are more fun when we’re high,” he says as a smile reappears on his face. “I’ve seen both sides so I can’t say that one side doesn’t exist.”

“It’s helped me notice the little things in life and actually figure out other things,” he adds.

Tyler considers himself part of the stoner culture. He gets the munchies and likes to make “ridiculous concoctions” - his most recent being a bowl of peanut butter with granola cereal and honey on top.

He also says he’s done research and even given a speech about marijuana for a class. And some things he’s read make him very upset that marijuana isn’t legalized everywhere. 

“I almost just smoke weed to go against the government,” he laughs. “I have that hippie sense about me.”

And the Wheels Keep Rolling

This semester I am in a feature writing class at Penn State. Our first assignment was to find a story before the first Penn State football game. A tailgate. A dedicated fan. I ventured up to Beaver Stadium Friday night to see what I could find.

Automobiles of different shapes and sizes are congesting roads outside of Pennsylvania State University’s coliseum-like Beaver Stadium.

 

Sedans zip through the intersection of Curtin and Porter roads to find the nearest parking spot. Buses crawl sheepishly through the stop signs to avoid excessive stress on the brakes or a crossing pedestrian. 

 

It’s early Friday evening of the Labor Day weekend – the unofficial end of summer. Football season is looming in Central Pennsylvania, and the Penn State Nittany Lions start their season tomorrow against Ohio University.  

 

As some students chat about their predictions for gameday, a massive RV with Penn State logos turns into a nearly deserted parking lot. A female passenger, Sandee, steps out of the vehicle. Her purple Crocs hit the lot before she hooks a leash on a large, white dog named Toby who wastes no time lifting his leg over a nearby patch of grass. A younger woman, Kelly, also exits the RV and stretches while her father, Chuck, produces a cooler filled with refreshments.

 

They are the McClains. They’ve traveled more than three hours from Delaware to get to this parking space. They are Penn State fans.

 

Only minutes after the McClains pull in, another behemoth, mobile house parks next to them, leaving a full parking space between the two RVs.

 

A mustached man, Brad, gets out of the driver’s side and begins to talk to the McClains. His wife, Suzanne, walks around the RV to greet their temporary neighbors as well.

 

They are the Bookshars. They also travelled over three hours to get to State College, starting their journey near Pittsburgh.

 

Mentally, though, the journey to make it to the Lions’ 2012 season opener has been far more eventful than any other Friday trip to State College the families have made before.

 

National media outlets swarmed Happy Valley last year to report on a scandal that involved former Penn State defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky. He was convicted in June on more than 40 counts of sexually abusing young boys.

 

In July, the NCAA imposed sanctions against Penn State after Louis Freeh, an ex-FBI chief, released an investigative report about the scandal, implying that some school officials knew about Sandusky’s crimes. One of those officials was legendary head coach Joe Paterno.

 

It set off another firestorm of media in State College, which most are getting used to. Even today news vans are parked only a few feet away from where the Bookshars and McClains have docked. Reporters and camera crews are back to report on the first post-scandal football game in Happy Valley.

 

Suzanne says that she and Brad don’t usually travel to the season opener because of the lack of competition. In the past five seasons, Penn State outscored their opponents 220 - 42.  

 

But, as part of the NCAA sanctions, PSU was forced to vacate all wins from 1998 – 2011. So, the official record books now show five losses instead of five thrashings.

 

But they had to come up for this home opener to support the team, Suzanne says.

 

As both families discuss the scandal, they eventually land on the subject of the media.

 

There was the whole idea that Penn State needed to change its culture, Chuck says with a look of discontent.

 

“What does that mean? They say it like it’s a bad thing,” he says.

 

Brad shakes his head in agreement.

 

“It’s all about the Penn State family,” he quickly adds.

--------------------

Traveling Friday night as opposed to gameday Saturday is not only a strategy to beat the traffic but a necessity when you’re behind the wheel of an RV, Suzanne says.

 

“It’s not fun,” she adds.

 

Chuck says that Kelly, a sophomore at Penn State Brandywine, adjusted her Friday class schedule so that the family could get to State College earlier.

 

The adults begin to reminisce about the long trips to Happy Valley they took as children. The four to six hour trips were longer back then because the roads didn’t allow as much traffic as they do now, Brad says behind his sunglasses.

A seasoned veteran, Brad has been coming to games since he was a student at Penn State. He got his season tickets in 1974. So, it comes as no surprise that the refrigerator in his Reflection RV is stocked with recently purchased ice cream from the infamous Penn State Berkey Creamery. A necessity for any tailgate, he says.

 

On the other hand, Chuck, a lifelong fan, got his season tickets in 2000, after the expansions to Beaver Stadium. He went on eBay and bought his Vacationer RV for the sole purpose of coming to Penn State football games.

 

Chuck says it’s more economical to stay in an RV for game weekends, citing how expensive hotel rooms cost in State College for football events. But with two couches that pull out into beds, sinks, a coffeemaker, a bathroom, a shower, a refrigerator, a table, an oven and a master bedroom, the only distinction between his RV and a hotel room is the wheels.

 

Neither family will be confined to their mobile living space tonight though. They will all be attending Football Eve, the traditional pep rally that takes place before every Penn State home game, before they drive to their “campground” for the night – a Walmart parking lot.

 

It’s the most convenient spot to park for the night because everything you need is only a few steps away, Brad says as he fixes his blue Penn State cap.

 

As the group continues to share small gameday tips, Toby is sitting in the McClain’s passenger seat, staring at the quiet Pennsylvania landscape and whining a bit. It’s almost time for the families to depart, and Toby needs to roam the grass one more time.

 

Sandee admits that she doesn’t always go into the game with Chuck and Kelly. Sometimes she’ll sit out by the RV with Toby and enjoy the game from afar. She says that Toby is very well-behaved, except for the previous Blue and White weekend.

 

The McClain’s were in State College to get a small taste of football during the April scrimmage when, all of the sudden, fireworks went off.

 

Toby got scared.

 

“We were parked right over there,” she says, pointing to a corner of the lot near Lubrano Park, the university’s baseball facility.

 

“So were we,” Suzanne says, smiling at the coincidence.

 

“We were probably right next to you,” Brad adds.

 

The more the families talk, the more they start to realize that they vaguely remember each other from that weekend - if only for the fact that their diesel-powered, hotels-on-wheels were parked in the same proximity.

 

The sun begins to fall behind Beaver Stadium, and the McClains and the Bookshars get ready to enter the pep rally. Chuck puts the cooler in the RV as Kelly gives Toby some water. Brad and Suzanne make sure that the Reflection is locked up and safe from any potential harm. Before they part ways, Brad looks at the group.

“Hey…let’s go State.”


Next article I'll post is about a health issue. Stay tuned.