Here's my brief Ode to Adam, my across-the-hallconfidant and the only person I know willing toplay Chinese checkers with me anytime, anyplace.Always blunt and always thinking, Adam waseverything me the poser thought was uncool buteverything me the me really loved.

At 3 a.m. over cups'o'noodles and Scrabble,he'd pretend I wasn't whining. He'd let me givehim advice about his love life, though he wassmart enough not to take it. He had spent enoughtime sorting through my self-made problems,spending nights sprawled across my uncarpetedfloor when I needed company, that he knew betterthan anyone what little business I had offeringanyone guidance about practically anything.

Clandestinely brilliant and conscientiouslyunpretentious, Adam was destined to be discovered.Never the star, Adam always had his admirers. Mosteverybody I know who knows him wishes they knewhim a little bit better.

So today it's a point of pride for me that hewas, and I hope remains (Adam, if you read this,please take note that I'm politely asking you notto retaliate for this violation of the sanctity ofyour secret life) my buddy.

The first year anywhere is hard. At Harvard I'msure it's harder. Surrounding you are people whoare amazing in their ways. Even if you are too,you might not feel it given the company you'llinevitably keep. One easy way to survive andprosper.

There are good people around. If you can figureout who they are, hang onto them. If you do,you'll be okay pretty much no matter what. It'sastonishing what winning a board game (even ifthey let you win) in the middle of the nightbefore you head into your last stretch of writinga paper can do for your morale.

For some first-years, friends from home or highschool or summer programs or classes orextracurriculars comprise their networks.Dorm-bonding is potentially far more volatile, butit can be, and in my case was, rewarding in itsintensity.

Other leading players in the cast of charactersfloating across the Lionel stage included matt,who was "Oklahoma-man" long before he knew we knewhe existed; Chris, whose sister and green backpackI met long before I figured out that Chris ofacross-the-hall was really Richard of Pittsburgh;and Dan, from whom I shied long before I realizedthat his dismissive California monotone was notdirected solely at me.

Like the siblings I never had, these guysfought with me, ate my food, stole mynewspapers--and even blindfolded and hung mySnoopy in their closet. I'm not sure I really wantthem to know this, but I loved it.

An only child, I grew up lamenting my lack ofplaymates. Suddenly I had more than I couldhandle, and I'm sure I didn't handle it very well.

It was more than novel to suddenly have peopleto hang out with anytime, all the time. I becameobsessive about being with my friends, bouncingform one to another as one fell off to do his orher "real" business at Harvard--going to study orsomething. I would just find a new game and a new,unoccupied friend.

It was great that there was Mark, who wouldpretty much always be up for a game of pool aslong as we could find a table within 10 miles. AndNadia, the Lionel B wanna-be who let me railroadher into doing all kinds of things that werestupid and useless but made life a little moreexciting.

And then there was DeLouis, who has yet tostraighten me out completely, even though mymother long ago gave him permission to use anymethods necessary to try.

I don't want to be preachy (and to those whomI'll annoy, please skip this paragraph) but I dohave one piece of useful, universal first-yearadvice to offer: find yourself a DeLouis.

I don't know if there's more than one outthere, but mine saved me life, my sanity andcountless trips home. We may not need mom and dadaround so much anymore, but as Western Unionconstantly reminds us, everybody needs somebodysometime.