Diversions of a Head-y Weekend

IF you were looking for a party last weekend, you weren't on campus. As is tradition for the Head of the Charles weekend, the Square was for two days a vortex of recreations. Diversions from Chaucer readings, French conjugations and even sleeping--what was a diligent student to do?

The only feasible action was to write off the entire weekend and gawk at the tourists, visiting college students and wistful alums. And listen--to the hi-fi din of dining-hall parties, to the crunch of empty beer cans against foreheads, and to roommate talk.

Seen or heard during the Head weekend:

A "gentleman" navigating by Porsche the congested Saturday-afternoon Harvard Square traffic lost his temper and blared his horn at the crowd crossing before him. He was about to learn firsthand about Harvard Square pedestrians.

Most pedestrians simply ignored him. Some looked wide-eyed through the windshield, feigning puzzlement. Some bellowed obscenities over the roar of the horn. The longer the driver honked, the more people crossed before him.

This brought to mind a fantastic proposal, shelved long ago by university administrators, to solve all traffic problems in the Square. How about building an underground network of streets for all motor traffic, thus transforming the Square from a pedestrian's nightmare to a browser's paradise?

The idea isn't just a fanciful dream. When the MBTA burrowed under the Square several years ago for the subway, university officials briefly considered a version of this plan.

PC Plagues

A few roommates who owned IBM computers were breathing a little easier last week after having uneasily anticipated the "Columbus Day Computer Virus" earlier this month. Hackers trembled at the prospect of a terminal illness which would wreak destruction upon term papers, lab data and anything else within the grasp of its electronic claws. A Macintosh user down the hall, immune to such plagues, offered some timely advice to stem the virus's spread.

"Use protection," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Disk condoms."

Koch at the Kiosk?

New Yorkers are an argumentative lot, says a friend down the hall (his roommate from New York disagrees), but especially when they find a cause worthy of debate. Maybe that's why the city holds mayoral elections.

This year's campaign, winding to a close, should have satisfied even the most disputative of New Yorkers. The Republicans are offering former U.S. Attorney Rudolph Giuliani, while the Democrats are offering David Dinkins, potentially New York's first Black mayor. Meanwhile, current Mayor Ed Koch faces a slight difficulty--specifically, he'll soon be out of work.

The New York dorm-mate has a solution. "Why not invite him up to Cambridge?" he suggests. "Make him a fellow of some sort, or a scholar-in-residence, or a special lecturer. At the least, he could give a few talks at the Institute of Politics."

There's only one drawback--where will Hizzoner find a Coney Island chili dog in the Square?

No Pepto Required

Speaking of indigestion, the Harvard Dining Services (HDS) was playing the chameleon last week. After an especially unpalatable sequence of meals, a student mutiny hung in the air. But suddenly HDS scored a victory in the experimental cuisine department, and the masses were appeased.

They were called "vegetarian hamburgers," and admittedly, they didn't appear too appetizing. Tofu and sprouts don't a patty make, skeptics cried. But surprisingly, the overwhelming verdict was kudos to HDS for a fine meal. Even HDS themselves were caught off guard--the patties were gone in Dunster and Mather by 6:15 p.m.

When was the last time that happened with the cheesy garden casserole?