The Ghost Apple by Aaron Thier Read Free Book Online Page A

there was no pudding on his tray, but later he returned to the servery and came back with a bowl of Butterychocolate Home-Style Comfort Pudding topped with peanut butter pieces, whipped cream, and gummy worms. He dug in with a soup spoon and said to me, “Live a little, Grandpa.”
    It’s one thing to say “live a little” before enjoying a small piece of chocolate cake after a nutritious dinner. After all, “live a little” is another way of saying “indulge yourself just this once.” But Lehman has a large bowl of pudding every day, and often twice a day. He is, you might say, living quite a lot. He told me that he’s gained six pounds since arriving at Tripoli, and I would guess that he’s by no means exceptional in that regard. Yesterday I saw a young man holding his stomach and resting his forehead on the table. There was a half-finished bowl of pudding on his tray and some pudding and whipped cream in his hair. Later I saw him licking the bowl clean.
    The pudding bars have become so much a part of Tripoli’s identity that criticizing them is thought to be in bad taste, and it’s only the rare student (Akash is one) who seems inclined to give them a pass. But it’s worth considering what happens when an occasional indulgence becomes a daily habit. It’s worth asking, too, whether there are foods one should probably never eat, under any circumstances. We don’t say “live a little” in order to justify using hard drugs.
    I hadn’t spent much time thinking about the consequences, as much psychological as physical, of eating in the Tripoli dining halls every day, but I quickly discovered that most of our menu items left me feeling sick and confused rather than fortified. I actually vomited after trying the Mini Tacos ! I’d venture the argument that this is more than just a public health issue. Our students can’t hope to do their best work if they’re not well nourished. I’ve seen Burke and Lehman taking long naps after dinner, and sometimes after lunch as well. One night I heard Burke observe matter-of-factly, “Sometimes my vision goes all wonky after I eat.”
    Nightlife
    Let me shift gears now and turn to a topic that anyone concerned about the character of student life is going to be interested in—the elephant in the room, so to speak.
    Ask a few Tripoli grads how they spent their college years, and inevitably a large percentage will say “partying.” Obviously, alcohol abuse is one of our major concerns in the dean’s office. We don’t mind if students have a drink now and then, as long as they do so in moderation and in a safe environment, but how much is too much? When, and why, does good fun become no fun?
    It’s almost impossible for us in the dean’s office to get a good idea of how much the average Tripoli student drinks on a night out. I had seen Lehman drinking rum most nights, but I didn’t know whether he was representative and I was eager for the opportunity to get an insider’s look at a typical party. It wasn’t long before I got my chance.
    One night I was having trouble sleeping, so I went out to take a short walk and smoke a cigar. When I got back to the room, Lehman and Burke had a case of beer open on the table and they were taking turns rolling a pair of dice and drinking from red plastic cups. They explained that they were playing a game, the rules of which they quickly outlined. I decided not to ask how they’d gotten the beer (they are both underage) and instead asked if I could join them.
    I’ve never been much of a drinker. Usually, when I begin to feel “buzzed,” as my suitemates would say, I decide that I’ve had enough. But tonight was different. I couldn’t beg off and head to my room, because that would have been a violation of etiquette and it might also have jeopardized the trust my suitemates had placed in me. Plus, I needed to stay up and observe. So I continued to roll the dice, drink the watery beer (I promised myself that if I did this