It shouldn’t come as any surprise that this year’s Picnic Day is a particularly important one. What happens on Saturday will determine the fate of the campus’ oldest and most beloved tradition — a hundred-year tradition that has survived the likes of hoof and mouth disease and a world war only to meet its potential end now and in this way.

I am not here to comment on the wisdom or efficacy of the various efforts that ASUCD, the University, and the City have undertaken to try to fix Picnic Day. We can debate endlessly about what will and will not work and who is and is not responsible for the problems that plague Picnic Day.

After speaking with top University and City administration officials one thing is quite clear: the cancellation of Picnic Day is still a very real possibility.

This is our one shot — our make-it-or-break-it year.

So I call upon all students to do everything in their individual power to save Picnic Day. Whether you drink a little, moderately, excessively or not at all, every student contributes directly or indirectly, intentionally or not to a culture that says Picnic Day is just about drinking. Let’s change that.

Some will say it’s just students being students and that we should all lighten up and live a little. That’s the attitude that students at Cal Poly, Chico and countless other universities probably took, but look how that ended. Both campuses saw the end of their annual events.

Picnic Day’s longevity as a campus tradition is something to be proud of, something to protect, but as Cal Poly and Chico demonstrate, it will not save Picnic Day alone. A tradition that is perhaps only a fraction of its former “fun” is still better than no tradition and no fun at all.

Picnic Day is in your hands. Save it for all the Aggies who came before and for all the Aggies who have worked tirelessly over its hundred years to organize it. Save it for all the Aggies yet to come, and most importantly, save it for yourself.

Don’t let Picnic Day’s cancellation be your generation’s legacy.

Steven D. Lee is a 2009 graduate of UC Davis who served on the Picnic Day Board of Directors, three City of Davis Commissions and as ASUCD’s Director of City & County Affairs and External Affairs Chair.

Last year, Picnic Day resulted in 516 calls to the police and 33 separate arrests, more than double the previous year. Prospective students and their parents watched as Unitrans evacuated buses in which partygoers had vomited. Local families reported instances of harassment and indecent exposure, or in rare instances, both at the same time.

You may laugh, but there are those who have had enough, who harken back to Picnic Day’s traditional roots, and their voice has been persuasive to the administration. So persuasive, in fact, that it threatens the very existence of a Picnic Day 2012. Picnic Day is at a fundamental crossroads, and for better or worse, its future rests in each student’s hands.

One of those hands, however, will likely be holding a disposable red cup. We had better hold our liquor.

My attitude toward Picnic Day through my first four years has been the classic, “live and let live.” If you want to drink with me at 6 a.m. on First Street, you’re certainly invited. Picnic Day is about community, and I’d love to make a new friend over a 30-cent beer. Just don’t bother those who’d rather put on a smiley face for prospective students and stay sober. Live and let live. For my friends and me, this is a Picnic Day philosophy that works.

But I spent the last two hours reading every article even referencing Picnic Day in both this online publication and in The Davis Enterprise’s, and perhaps I’ve been an idealist. I’ve found myself questioning how realistic my philosophy actually is. Not because of the articles per se, but because of the comments they incite:

“Is public urination not to be as egregious an act near my house as in the Safety Enhancement Zone?” wrote Donna Turcot on The Davis Enterprise’s website. “It’s happened before in my yard! I didn’t like it then either!”

Someone with the username “christyliz” wrote about how it used to be: “As a Davis native I can tell you that Picnic Day weekend was a time of civic pride. Citizens mowed and edged their lawns, washed their cars, cleaned their windows and presented a good face for the visitors from other communities who might be considering sending their college-bound kids to UCD. Now most of us leave town or hunker down at home trying to avoid the drunken, noisy, disrespectful scenes in our own neighborhoods.”

For the last four years, I’ve spent the hours between 6 a.m. and 3 p.m. on First Street, so I haven’t exactly made the Picnic Day rounds. I had imagined there were many neighborhoods that went relatively undisturbed, but apparently not. I realize now the naïveté in assuming my “Live and let live” philosophy applied en masse. Students have been doing stupid stuff in too many stupid places, so the city of Davis, in its infinite wisdom, took action.

This year, there will be a “Safety Enhancement Zone” that borders the Downtown Davis area inside which fines will be doubled and tripled. Problem solved.

Wait, if Davis citizens’ problem is that students are doing too many stupid things too close to their homes, homes that are statistically outside of the “Safety Enhancement Zone,” why is the city’s policy to give us incentive to leave the one place we already congregate?

Yes, this policy will undoubtedly place an angelic conscious figure on the left shoulder of students who might normally be puking, but it might also be enough to convince houses outside of the downtown area to throw bigger parties to avoid the fees downtown. And if big parties aren’t downtown, then they’re a whole lot closer to homeowners’ lawns and windows.

“We know people are going to drink,” Davis Police Lt. Glenn Glasgow told The Enterprise. “We know people are going to party. We just hope they do it responsibly.”

If that’s the city’s policy, then it is reasonable to think the police would want to keep the lunacy contained in one area. Tripling fines where they already know we congregate is not the best way to accomplish this.

This year, I think the police force is going to be patrolling a much larger area and have much more difficulty doing so, not because of the nature of students or of Picnic Day, but because of their implementation of this policy.

If it were up to me, I’d triple fines everywhere BUT the downtown area between A and E Street and First and Fifth Street (Let’s be real, Froggy’s could use the tripled fines). This way we’d have incentive to keep our debauchery in one place, away from those who don’t appreciate it. If it were up to me, I’d give you incentive to “Live and let live,” because that’s what Picnic Day is all about.

In honor of Principal Brochill, JOSH ROTTMAN will be respecting his partner this Picnic Day. He cannot be reached on Picnic Day, but he can be reached every other day at jjrottman@ucdavis.edu.

There are few things that are as eye-opening as exposing oneself to another culture. And no, I’m not talking about putting Nutella on your toast.

We all grew up with customs and traditions that identify us in a sea of diversity. It’s easy to forget that you experience the world in an entirely different way than the people around you. I didn’t know my house smelled like curry until a friend described the aroma as “spicy.” But there are times when what we know is brought into question and we have to address what our “normal” means to everyone else.

As I’ve grown older and people start talking about “serious” things like getting married, I’ve often been asked if I’m going to have an arranged marriage. Not only is the question unexpected, but I always get the feeling the other person is sure the answer is yes.

I’ve always known that it’s uncommon for children of Indian immigrants to have arranged marriages in the states, but I guess not everyone did. I can’t help but wonder if someone who has never been exposed to arranged marriage can believe in it.

I recently had the pleasure of watching the film Arranged, which documents the story of an unanticipated friendship. The world tells Rochel Meshenberg and Nasira Khaldi that they shouldn’t be friends – that they should hate each other. Rochel is an Orthodox Jew. Nasira is Muslim.

When we meet them, both women have reached the age where the big question mark of their future happiness is staring them in the face. It’s time for them to be “arranged.”

Rochel meets with a matchmaker and embarks on a series of uncomfortable dates. Simultaneously across the city, Nasira’s parents invite man after man to their home, hoping their daughter will find compatibility with one of them.

After months of sitting through dates and dinners, Rochel and Nasira grow tired of the system. They can’t help but wonder if they ever will get the feeling their parents did on first meeting.

However, one fateful day in the library, Rochel spots Gideon. Match. Not soon before, the ever so charming Jamil is introduced to Nasira. Match.

Contrary to what many people would like to think, arranged marriage is anything but an ancient concept.

We constantly use the expression “you can’t choose who you love” as a way of expressing the ideal strike-of-lightning image of marriage that romantic comedies fuel. But in truth, we choose for people all the time. We set our friends up with people we think are absolutely “perfect” for them. And for some reason, people find academic stimulation in television shows like “Millionaire Matchmaker.” Maybe it’s not parents bringing these people together, but the foundation is the same.

While Rochel’s parents were persistent in their matchmaking efforts, they knew when it was time to take a step back. Their daughter’s sanity was far more important than marrying her off. If Rochel’s parents fit the stereotype that is circulated in western society of ruthless, unforgiving parents, she would’ve never met Gideon. Talk about a tragedy.

In societies where arranged marriages are prevalent, parents don’t just arbitrarily pick a partner for their child and book the reception hall. While there are indeed exceptional cases, most 20-something adults can say yay or nay when faced with a potential spouse. Rather than deciding to marry someone because “it’s a beautiful night” and they happen to be “looking for something dumb to do,” people like Rochel and Nasira accept the process for what it is, and make their choice based on the set parameters.

While it may seem a little counterculture to do so, we can all believe in arranged marriage. You can be a supporter of what arranged marriages can and continue to create for people across the world, and still make the choice to look for your own partnership. Sure, not all arranged marriages work out, and in some cases people are forced into situations they didn’t ask for, but that’s not the whole picture.

I’ll be the first to say that I’m not particularly interested in an arranged marriage. But when I do get asked the question, I make a point of expressing how cool I think the concept is, and sharing why I believe in it. So the next time your friend surprises you with “my parents had an arranged marriage,” don’t stare and question his normalcy. Remind him that you want to believe in his culture. After all, there’s a chance we all could be arranged one day (preferably not on television).

I don’t know about you, but if my parents said that a nice Broadway star named Daniel Radcliffe was at my house for dinner, I’d apparate home immediately.

MAYA MAKKER doesn’t smell enough “spicy” on campus. Share your ideas for an expansion of the glorious halal truck via mgmakker@ucdavis.edu.

Cry a river, and someone will probably build a bridge for you. You cry. I cry. Everybody cries. Yes, even that chiseled guy at the ARC who resembles Michelangelo’s David cries. Tell me you never cry, and I’ll swear up and down the streets of Downtown Davis that you’re evil and have no soul.

Sure, tears well up in our eyes when we get physically hurt from, say, falling off a bike or some measly paper cut. Cutting onions or getting pepper sprayed can also elicit tears.

But, what good are the tears when you are feeling emotionally distressed, besides making you feel better? Aren’t we humans supposed to be the pinnacle of evolution on this Earth? That’s up for contention, but there may be a reason humans have evolved to cry because of emotions, whether they stem from joy, sorrow or frustration.

An NPR article highlighted several studies regarding tears and the purpose they serve. First, researchers speculate that tears serve a purpose for natural selection. Infants who cry more are less likely to be left alone or with a stranger and demand much more attention from their parents. This leaves them less vulnerable to harm, and that equates to a better survival rate for crybabies! Makes sense, right? As far as survival goes, a crybaby will almost always beat the quiet, cool and collected baby in the Ray-Ban wayfarers. Who wants a baby that doesn’t cry when it falls over and hurts itself?

It all really boils down to good ol’ empathy – plain and simple. Studies found that people inferred greater emotion from photographs of faces with tears than those without them. Tears are a signal to those around a crybaby. They let people know, “I need help, and don’t mess with me,” or just “back off!”

Think about it. You wouldn’t continue yelling at someone who has been pushed to tears, now would you? If you do, you’re going to need to take an empathy 101 class. The last time you saw someone crying, your heart may have sunk like the Titanic (too soon?). No one “human” feels good seeing another person weep in sorrow.

It’s their sincerity and rarity that allows tears to be so powerful. You can expect tears to be real most of the time, because not many people are gifted with the ability to cry on command. It is a useful ability that many actors employ. Even fake crying can still elicit a strong response if it’s believable.

More often than not, people can relate to another’s tears. They know where they’re coming from. NPR likened this idea to Tiger Woods recently choking back tears as he apologized for spitting game with ladies despite being married. Everyone knew where those tears were coming from. His tears – probably genuine – called for people to look at his actions and apology through a lens of sympathy and pity. Without the tears, his apology may have been simply written off as disingenuous bullshit.

The next time you let the waterworks flow, just know that it is not useless. It runs for a damned reason. Tears are freaking powerful. They likely bettered our chances of survival as defenseless infants and enhance the emotions that we communicate to those close to us. It lets everyone around you know that “shit just got real.” It places our emotions behind a lens of empathy. It places people in a vulnerable state, and it’s something we can all appreciate. It’s a wonderful trait we’ve all inherited – except those of you who don’t have souls, of course. It makes us human.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to watch Vince Carter weep in the rain as his high school erects a statue of him on Youtube. Maybe I’ll let a tear or two roll down my cheek. Laugh at me or join me, but that sequence really tugs at your heartstrings and feels grounded with universal emotion. Shit just got real for a crybaby like me.

LARRY HINH doesn’t want you to be afraid to cry! Come cry to him at lthinh@ucdavis.edu. Just kidding. Sorta.

I remember sitting in Dr. Frank Hirtz’s Community Development class when he said something to the effect of “the solutions to problems are often dictated by people’s perceptions.” While I no longer study community and regional development, this is something that has resonated with me during my tenure as chair of Picnic Day.

Immediately after Picnic Day, people were out to cast blame on someone for the externalities associated with our university’s open house, namely, the violence that erupted downtown. Some blamed out-of-towners, others blamed the businesses for serving alcohol too early and at a bargain. People blamed the Greek communities and the general student population for their house parties and making alcohol accessible to minors.

The truth of the matter is that the blame should not be cast upon any of the particular aforementioned entities – we are all to blame. Either we have been causing the problems or we have done nothing about them for years.

Last year’s off-campus problems were not new to Picnic Day. Arrests, citations and hospitalizations have been on the rise for years. Last year represented a tipping point for the event in which we determined that things have finally gotten out of hand. Many would say that we have been proactive in addressing the problems associated with Picnic Day this year, but I would argue that we are merely being reactive.

This is the first year in which we have made a concerted effort to scale back the size of the event instead of subscribing to the notion of “bigger is better.” In the past we sought out bigger crowds despite having an increasing rate of public disorder. We sought out bigger crowds despite rejecting pleas for a budget that is commensurate with attendance. To this affect, we should not be surprised with the position we are caught in today.

The time to cast blame, however, is long gone. We can point fingers and ask ourselves “What if…?” all we want and guarantee that there will not be a Picnic Day in 2012. If we are going to ask ourselves any questions it should be: “What is my legacy going to be?” and “What did I do to ensure this time honored tradition continues?”

Here’s some food for thought: In the past, Picnic Day has been canceled twice due to an outbreak of foot and mouth and World War II. Is our behavior and lack of ownership of the event such that it stands on equal footing with war and disease?

Now, some will read this and decide that they are going to do what they want to do because this is their day. I am here to tell you that it is not. Our community needs to realize that this event is truly in peril and what it demands of people is altruism, not entitlement.

If you cannot buy into my perception, at least hold off for a couple more weeks to do your thing – go to HB2K11.

Charlie Colato is chairman of the Board of Directors for Picnic Day 2011.