Good Times
Peter Pan and his Lost Boys never did grow up
I also like to run around like a young kid or pup
And that would be where Brieanne and the Good Times folk come in
They show us how to have some fun without committing sin
For those people who can’t divorce college fun from alcoholic splurges in their mind, dry BYU must seem like the least fun campus on the planet. The truth is, BYU students have too much fun. Obnoxiously excessive amounts of fun. It’s a little embarrassing. You see, I’m one of those people whose fun organ1 is a little slow getting going: “You want me to What?! I dunno . . . that kinda sounds like it might be . . . fun . . . .” I must be what those sloppy naked on the sidewalk passed out spring break college students think BYU is. But I’m in a minority.
[SECRET NSA PRESIDENCY MOIM TRANSCRIPT]
G**g: So yeah, I like that: Good Times. Who should we put in charge of that?
S******e: Brieanne.
K**e: Brieanne, definitely. She’s the one who organized that Ultimate Frisbee
yesterday.
T****c: Oh yeah. That. I got muddy.
G**g: That was a blast!
K**e; Totally, plus—
S******e; Have you seen those signs up all over? For playing cards Saturday?
G**g: Yeah! She did those? What a go-getter!
T****c: I had to change my clothes.
G**g: Oh, we have got to put Brieanne in charge of Good Times. Man. Ultimate
Frisbee was so much fun. We definitely have to do that again, huh T****c?
T****c: Well. Yeah. I guess.
G**g: So! are we all in favor of putting Brieanne in charge of Good Times? Great.
Now, who should we put on her committee?
[END OF TRANSCRIPT SELECTION]
So Brieanne’s go-gettemness netted her a job. And she was good at it. If anything, too good. The main role of the Presidency became making sure we didn’t have too much fun.
“Haven’t we had enough fun for one semester?!” Theric would cry during the typical meeting, abject horror evident on his pale face.
“NO!” everyone else would shout in reply, used to this absurd distraction and oft repeated catechism. “NO!” they would repeat, just to make sure he had heard them the first time.
But restrictions were placed on Good Times. “Monday’s are FHE’s night, okay? Sunday’s the Sabbath, okay? Wednesday is Sports’ domain. And Friday is, um, Friday’s—”
“Mine!” exults Brieanne.
[ill-marginalia]
In addition to running their own fun, Brieanne and the Good Times Committee also served as consultants to other committees. For example, Brieanne might turn to Matt, chair of Music and Theater, and say:
“So, Music and Theater, a variety show, eh? Well, you’ve come to the right place.”
“So, Thank You/Birthday! I understand you’re planning on recognizing those born in February. Know what you need? A party! That’s right, a party. Birthdays require parties.”
“So, Faculty, you’re sending us home, huh? Sounds like we should have a dance. Yeah!”
And then the Fun Guerrillas would sweep in, inject the serum of joy into the student body and zowiee! There you are—Good Times. Can you dig it?
[ill-of Theric sighing]
return to the table of contents
Thanks for revisiting Nauvoo with me. I would love to hear your thoughts.