Published: April 9, 2009

My collegiate life has suffered an untimely and premature death. I was fully prepared to hear it’s last gasp on commencement day, but that final breath has come all too soon: Dollar Beers night at Lincoln Park Grille has been cancelled. I first went to Dollar Beers shortly after transferring to Lincoln Center my sophomore year. I used a fake ID that a tall, blond kid from Greenwich gave me because he had four back-ups. It was a sweet deal. I remember walking down the steps into the bar like Alice down the rabbit hole. The sweet smell of stale beer and the tasty licks of REO Speedwagon filled the air. I ordered a drink. The bartender who I’d soon know by name handed me a mug and said, “One dollar.” From then on, I was in love with Lincoln Park.

Since that time, I’ve truly come to think of Lincoln Park as the Fordham college bar, particularly on Dollar Beer Wednesdays when the Lincoln Centerites come out in full force. A school that’s located in such an urban setting needs to have a bar to call its own. Our Jesuit rivals in Boston have Mary Ann’s. Even the nerdlebees at Columbia have 1020. In fact, what comes as such a surprise about the closure of Dollar Beers is that the Fordham sense of community surrounding the bar seemed to be at its highest these last few months. Or, at least, its loudest. You’d walk in there on Wednesday, and it was like you were at a real college: people hooting and hollering, playing flip cup, having make-out sessions all over the place. It was great.

But then there’s the morning after. Rumors spread of urine in beer pitchers and small fires set to unsuspecting mailbags. These isolated incidents are directly responsible for the closure of Dollar Beers. They were perpetrated by just a few reckless individuals who felt the need to act like complete toolboxes and spoil it for everyone. But it’s mainly the idiot who thought it would be cool to light stuff on a fire in a crowded bar that I take issue with. The urine I could care less about, and frankly, I’m disappointed Lincoln Park cited the incident in their memo declaring Dollar Beer’s end. So what if a couple people actually drank it? It’s sterile, you know. Pirates used to drink it all the time, so it can’t be that bad, right?

The mailbag is another story. That was just plain stupid. Pyromania was a real kick-ass pastime when I was 10, but I think once you’re in college, it’s time to let it go. If the fire had spread in such a packed bar with relatively few exits, the results could have been tragic.

Now we all have to stay strong. Hope springs eternal, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance they’ll bring it back. Until then, I think there are a few things we need to do as a student body. First, boycott Lincoln Park on Wednesdays. If they find out that we’re willing to pay the regular price for beer, they’ll never bring it back. Second, go every other night, especially Thursdays. It’s ladies’ night, so at least half of us will be able to get dollar drafts. Third, we need to find a rebound. Just like after any break up, you have to pick yourself up and try to find someplace new. Ninety-nine percent of us aren’t responsible for what happened, so I think we can be guilt-free about exploring drink specials with other bars. Lastly, preserve the memory of Dollar Beers. It is the duty of each and every one of us to pass down the rich lore of “Mad Wednesdays.” We all had some great memories there, so try to remember at least two of them.

The saddest thing about the end of Dollar Beers isn’t the loss of the cheap beer or the convenient location. It’s the people. Fordham Lincoln Center is a tight-knit community, yet for being so close, it’s surprising how rare it is to find more than 20 of us in the same room when we’re not in class. Wednesday nights at Lincoln Park were great because it was the one place you could really count on seeing people that you somehow never saw all week. It was like “Cheers,” but sloppier. I’m definitely going to miss that, especially during these last few months of college in these crazy economic times. Even if Dollar Beers is gone for good, never to return, my love, borne upon sweet dollar drafts of Bud Light, shall never cease.