Major Catharsis Minus the Thesis

Bennett C. Braddock III ’08 dashed across his Eliot House suite, the tassels of his loafers bouncing in time to his step. He was in a festive mood, sporting salmon-colored trousers and a vernal polo.

Making his way past his party guests, Braddock paused the stereo, which had been blaring Bon Jovi. An abrupt hush came over the well-dressed-but-getting-sloppier room.

Taking a swig of Sam Adams, Braddock composed himself and declared, “Thank you all for coming here tonight. It’s nice to see all you nerdy bastards again!”

The crowd of 30 let out a cheer: a cathartic mixture of gratitude, self-satisfaction, and relief. Yes, handing in your senior thesis is certainly an emotional roller-coaster.

Braddock continued, “Now, have I got an oral exam for you all. I want you all to get up here and show me the best damn keg-stand you’ve got.”

His guests, meek and submissive after months of self-imposed solitary confinement, readily formed a line. And who were they to refuse? Thanks to their benevolence of their academically-disinclined but party-loving friend, these pale creatures of the library stacks finally had an opportunity to rage again.

Writing a senior thesis is undoubtedly a rewarding experience. Surveying Braddock’s party, however, I got the impression that the thesis was not nearly as rewarding as that first sip of beer after it’s been turned in.

Your friends—alive! Your calendar—empty! Your brain—switched off!

No thesis writer myself, but a partygoer nonetheless, I approached the host: Great party, Bennett. Motioning to the homemade list of specialty cocktails (the “Topic Sentence-tini,” the “Works Cider”), I continued, You’ve clearly been planning this for a while.

He let out a laugh and said, “This is always my best party of the year.”

You hosted an end-of-thesis celebration before your senior year? How is that possible?

“The people who write theses are the smart ones, right? Well, I guess they’re smart enough to know just the right guy to get ’em sloshed once they’re finished—even when I was a freshman.”

Interesting hypothesis… so, why didn’t you write a thesis?

“Theses rhymes with feces. That’s all I’ll say about that. Plus, I’m not even entirely sure what my concentration is.”

Now you’re just trying to show off. There was honestly no topic that inspired you?

“Dude, at this very moment I’m doing what inspires me most—hanging out and helping my friends have a good time. They provide the thinking, I’ll provide the drinking.”

If hospitality were a concentration, Bennett C. Braddock III ’08 would graduate summa cum laude.