So here’s the deal. Since December 2003, I’ve been ranting and, well, ranting some more about things that I’ve observed while attending the University of Florida, so today, I’d like to just talk about the university in general. After all, what would Angry in Gainesville be without it?
Well, it wouldn’t exist, which is actually an improvement, but I’m here and AIG is, too, so fuck it...
As a student of UF, I obviously have a strong bias toward this place. But what can I say? It is great to be a Florida Gator, and everyone at UF will proudly say so... as long as our football team has just won. Like our defense-free basketball team, Gator fans have become soft over the years, and their support for Gator football is as fickle as that nerdy kid who sat at the “cool” lunch table, agreeing with whatever everyone else says, doing their homework, suffering sleep deprivation from performing various “odd-jobs” for them at all hours, sighing as he has to give up his spot at the table every time a semi-descent girl wants it... I mean, I think that’s what a pushover would be like... Because I sure wasn’t like... Okay, that was me, but we’re talking UF now!
Sure, the hardcore fanatics still come out of the Alachuan woodwork to go crazy at the games, but enthusiasm has waned for the most part. There was a time when everyone in the student section stood throughout the whole game as though raging hemorrhoids was the latest designer STD on campus. Nowadays, the middle of the section is in dire need of an automatic bench-heating system that will turn the bleachers into 400 degree rows of pain whenever the Gators are not leading by at least ten points, causing severe testicular or labial damage to anyone who decides to plop on their fat ass during such a crucial juncture.
Then again, you can still ask any introverted blonde freshman about her opinion on UF’s passing game, and she’ll not only be able to give you a respectable answer, but she’ll probably cite Chris Leak’s average yards per game, TD/INT ratio, and jockstrap size while she’s at it. They may be fickle, but Gator fans never stop bleeding orange and blue, even if it is while they‘re slitting their wrists over losing to Mississippi State.
One thing that UF students haven’t lost is their pride for is the amount of fun they have on the weekends. Gainesville is unique in the spectrum of most Florida college locales in the sense that it is a pure college town. Aside from its rural fringe that ventures into the college section of the city from time to time, everything within a ten mile radius of the already enormous campus caters specifically to the 18-24 age group. Anything in this perimeter is a Mecca of young, pretty faces and bodies to match.
And no matter what crowd you roll with, or pretend to be a part of, there’s an establishment just for you. If you’re a materialistic narcissist who cannot let a night go by without flavorless music and a good, healthy sexual harassment, then Gainesville has plenty of generically-named clubs like Sky and 238 West. Like to sip a caffeinated beverage that has more syllables than a Ukranian’s middle name while waiting for your chance to speak in an ego-driven facade of being an interesting person? There are some damn good coffee houses on campus and along its border that are chock full of colorful characters. Just want a beer, but hate to shower and get a haircut? University Avenue is dotted with scummy bars that are chock full o’ nuts and “colorful” individuals such as yourself.
Yes, in one night, Gainesville can blow out your eardrums with eclectic local music, get you rejected by a girl wearing a skirt that cost more than your car so that she can drink a spiked rum and coke from some jackass wearing body glitter, serenade you with a hippie’s deodorant-free acoustic cover of “Hey Jude,” and get you drunk and wired enough to survive the whole ordeal.
The problem with Gainesville’s isolated college atmosphere is that it sometimes creates some of the more unappealing aspects of college to be intensified. The frat boys are sleazier because there are no old perverts around to serve as examples of what their “fuck first, check for vital signs later” policy may turn them into after they hit middle age. The free-spirits have less restraint because there’s no one with authority around to reassure them that no one has ever run through a public area while waving ribbons and reciting soliloquies about chocolate chip cookies because it is a fucking retarded thing to do. The intellectuals are more righteous because there aren’t many people around who have lived through enough hard knocks to explain to them why dead poets, obscure play scripts, and pursuing a PhD in “Literary Criticism of Literary Criticism” has no relevance to the rest of their lives.
Even further magnifying the college atmosphere is the scenery. UF has one of the most beautiful campuses in the country, if only they would stop putting it under construction so that people could actually see it. Take Broward Beach for example. The favorite field for tailgating and impromptu sports has been almost completely paved over in favor of a skate park. That just plain sucks. What once was a staple for Saturday cook-outs and idle Tuesday night shenanigans has now been turned into an eyesore that only serves to entertain Gainesville High School students while they wait for their moms to pick them up from soccer practice in their Excursions full of Sam’s Club groceries. So much for “thy lovely vine clad halls” that we sing about in our alma mater. Most of them were sprayed with weed killer, literally.
Oh, well, it’s still a beautiful campus, especially in the places that are 100 years old, and I'm rambling because I have to end this on a positive note...
Wait, no I don’t...
FSU sucks.