What do you call it when hundreds of drunken students get together to partake in a grueling athletic endeavor while their similarly drunken friends cheer them on? Furthermore, let's say it's sort of a Tufts ritual, and it happens in early December as everyone is stressing about finals. Nope, it's not NQR. It's T-D-C!!!
Just kidding, I'm thinking about NQR, and my manhood is already shriveling in giddy anticipation.
Yes, the Naked Quad Run, or the more PC "Nighttime Quad Reception," is this Friday, and as a senior, this is the last time I can run. After this year, I'll have to sneak onto campus, slip past the police and try to blend in with the students so I can see college kids get naked. Oh, wait. … I forgot that the school practically invites the entire Medford/Somerville community to this. I'll probably get my invite along with a request for donations two minutes after I'm given my diploma.
Last year, I missed out on NQR. I somehow skipped the run and went straight from pregaming to postgame Pizza Days. It was incredibly depressing. There's something special about the run. There's the pageantry, the positivity, the energy, the boobies. What's not to like?
On top of that, we're all out there together, nipples hard as steel, family jewels shrinking faster than the U.S. economy. There is a bond between runners that cuts through prejudice, racism, sexism, politics and even gymnophobia. (Sorry, I've been studying for the GREs.)
The icing on this nudie cake is that the administration hates NQR. Track down University President Lawrence Bacow's 2002 response to the event. He is not too pleased. He more or less calls it a disgrace to the Tufts identity.
Sorry, Larry, I think you're great. You had some sweet dance moves with Adele this weekend. But you couldn't be more wrong. NQR represents the very best of the Tufts student body. I mean, I couldn't get a spot on the President's Marathon Challenge, so I gotta get my 26.2 miles in somehow.
In all reality, I think NQR really is a positive event. Yes, we are all super hammered. That's not too classy. Yes, we are naked, which doesn't look too good when hosting donors' dinners. (In hindsight, you might have wanted to schedule that another night, Larry.) But the spirit of NQR represents something beautiful in this school. It's a liberation, an expression of overwhelming freedom, a celebration of our fellow students and an appreciation of tradition that Tufts should admire.
Instead, the administration has adopted a policy of calculated ignorance. Do just enough to protect the students while simultaneously maintaining the moral high ground, casting NQR as a despicable event.
I will agree that it doesn't always go off without a hitch. The routine photographer isn't very cool. People get injured slipping on ice and such. Yes, some people over-imbibe. The campus gets a little trashed. Sorry.
Regardless, creepy voyeur-porn photographers and all, I love NQR. It's a great way for us to blow off a little steam. It's innocent. It's hilarious. It's an act of innocent defiance. It's a Tufts tradition. And above all else, it's fun.
And so, this year, I will be sure to run. I'll throw my naked body boldly into the fray. I encourage all of you to do the same. If I haven't won you over with my florid prose, well then how about this:
It's your only chance to give the Tufts University Police Department an astronomy lesson. Show them the full moon.
