17 CRACKS IN THE PLEATHER CHAIRS

A petty attempt at making us comfortable in the Lamont reference room ends in disaster way too often. Cracks in the "upholstery" shelve loose change and general grime and also render exposed skin vulnerable to unsightly redness upon dismount.

18 CURRIER DINING HALL FOUNTAIN

Continental breakfast draws the bare-footed, gratuitously bathrobe-clad undergrads, who bask in the image of the babbling brook that anchors the Howard Johnson's of a dining hall. Save that landscaping genius for new Science Center shrubbery, i.e. get rid of those freakin' rocks. See 63.

19 BLUE LAWS

You can't buy alcohol after 11 p.m. And forget it on Sundays.

20 STAIRS

Sure, it's great to live in the Georgian world of Old Harvard. But when you get put on the fourth floor in the corner courtyard in Dunster, the uphill climb gets old real quick. Able-bodied do not abound, making move-in a perennial pain, and after a long day of sections and tutorials, the four flights knock any wind you've got left right out. And The Crimson never seems to make it all the way up the stairs either.

21 ELEVATORS

Okay, you win--some buildings have lifts. But once inside, problems persist. Eye-contact between closing doors never does much to improve neighborly relations; pressing the right button constantly begs a meal-like "pardon my reach"; and then staring blankly at the floor indicator is pathetic anyway, since the elevators only stop on at most every third floor.

22 THE WITCHING HOUR

The T closes at 12:30 a.m. Try catching a cab at Alewife after a 10:45 movie.

23 SQUASH PLAYERS IN ADAMS HOUSE

Once upon a time, everyone knew where everyone was, or at least was supposed to be. The jocks were in Mather, the aristocracy held court in Eliot, and the nudists frolicked in the tunnels of Adams. Nowadays, with randomization, Harvard's efforts at the "small college community" are thwarted by the random collection of students in each House. While the system is an admirable attempt to mark out stratification, what has resulted is a loss of House individuality, spirit and unity--incidentally, exactly what makes communal living worthwhile.

24 THE LANGDELL MYSTIQUE