You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.™
Fraternity Row at USC.
It’s like Mardi Gras every day of the year.
Many of my friends rushed a frat Freshman year.
They joined because it meant acceptance, into a privileged society that viewed itself as better than everyone else.
I met some of these Frat house F***ers my first week at school and I immediately said: Screw that noise.
So I decided to become a GDI. (G** D*** Independent)
With that said, I had a blast, bonding with an eclectic crowd that looked like they had just come from a Pear Jam show.
It was the 80’s and plaid shirts and long hair and Ray Bans were in. It was Al Demiola and Pink Floyd the Wall and INXS. It was the L.A. Raiders and showtime at the Fabulous Forum. La La land was at my doorstep.
We were 18 and we didn’t realize how little we knew. We were young and dumb and full of … well you get the picture.
The Greeks were something else all together. They had an air about them. They were more affluent and apt to drive a BMW and wear an Izod logo over their nipple.
At the time, it just wasn’t my thing. I went to my share of Row functions, but I went as the wild ass independent I am.
That is until I got kicked out of my off campus apartment Junior Year. Necessity is the mother of invention and with no where else to go, I was open to suggestions.
I had met these guys at Delta Chi while playing hoops. They were cool to have beers with, but by Frat standards the house was a Loser.
The cool houses back then were the SAE’s, the Kappa Sigs, the FIJI”s. Why were they cool? Who knows? Why is anything hip or accepted? Maybe their guys were handsome or good partiers or had beach houses in Laguna. Hard to say.
Delta Chi? They were weak. When I say weak I mean wet toilet paper weak. I’m talking new fawn in the mouth of a tiger weak. I’m talking dandelion in a hail storm weak.
If Delta Chi was known for anything it was loser parties, with ugly chicks and a lot of standing around.
Basically D-Chi had a sad ass rep on the row.
So some members approached me and said something to the effect of “Look, we need to change our perception so we are bringing in a new breed of pledge – for this semester only.”
Translation: They were offering a truncated pledge program where there was minimal pledge BS like cleaning up dirty bathrooms and washing the president’s vomit out of the sink.
They wanted guys like me to amp up the crazy, and bring my unique amplified qualities to the game. They also hedged their bet for sudden cool by rushing about a dozen USC football players.
The idea was simple: Maximize the hype.
The idea was marketing. How do you transform a pig into a pony immediately? By changing the attitude, the perception from weak to bad ass.
Suddenly Delta Chi was a curious place to be. Girls lingered instead of walked by like it was the house where all the bodies were stashed.
Suddenly new pledges, not yet wise to the way of the row, came around wondering what all the buzz was about.
Suddenly Delta Chi was cool. Suddenly hotter girls from the Kappa Gamma house and the DG’s were caught making the walk of shame the next morning.
A late night booty call at Delta Chi? Unheard of.
So suddenly I was pledge brothers with Jack Del Rio and Sean Salisbury and Kennedy Pola and Rex Moore and Dave Geroux.
Outside of Salisbury who was a prick, the guys on the team were cool. Suddenly we were the jock house.
And you know what, it worked. Suddenly chicks from the cool houses were hanging with USC football players and crazy sons of bitches like me.
Delta Chi suddenly had a rep.
Girls came over, parties got hardy, and believe it or not, even some of the nerds got laid.
Nice.
I was thinking about the good old days recently.
Delta Chi.
Do You Know Kimble?
Somewhere under layers of fatty brain cells and fried neurons is the hazy memory of a Southern Style manor. It’s a two story stucco structure held together, at least cosmetically, with white latex paint and soiled condoms.
The building was forged with a sturdy hunks of pine. The front porch was adorned by 6 massive columns.
If you squinted, after a night of binge drinking, the Delta Chi house looked like a South Central version of the White House smoking a blunt.
Delta Chi is located on 28th Street in Los Angeles, a street like no other in the city of angels. While located within the zip code of the greater downtown area, 28th street is a unique animal.
28th street intersects other famous boulevards. There is Pico Boulevard where the scent of frying tortilla’s is swept into the street on an air current of Latin rhythms. There’s Vermont avenue where the walls of dilapidated rock houses serve as a life size stucco canvas for the spray can Picasso’s and Homeboys. There’s Martin Luther King Blvd which is like every other MLK blvd in every other big city. Keep your head down and your hand near your wallet.
On a Thomas Brother’s map, 28th street looks like any other thoroughfare, but it is indeed different. It common to see BMW’s, Mercedes and Porsche’s roll down the street followed by a four door sedan with the words: “Death Mobile” inscribed across the hood.
One block over is poverty and homeless guys pushing shopping carts and hookers working for a five spot.
28th Street? Some of the richest kids in Southern California lived here.
That’s why 28th street was so different. It was an island of prosperity in a sea of despair.
Stroll down 28th and you will surely come across arrogant sorority girls buried under layers of pancake makeup. You will undoubtedly see fraternity boys throwing footballs from one house to another with a non-assuming athleticism that thinly conceals a veil of vanity and conceit.
28th Street looks as if it were designed by the editors of better homes and gardens. There are manicured green lawns, shade trees and a brilliant array of flora. A colorful emblem is painted in the middle of the street in front of each house.
28th street is the pulse of USC Greek society. It is on this chronically inebriated street, while a member of the Delta Chi fraternity, that some of my best college memories were forged.
I came wide eyed to this big city ready to take it all in. I was ready to leave behind the high school boy and become the next version of whomever I was to become.
Suddenly I had limited supervision and no conscious.
I was the Rolling Stones on my own world tour: sex, drugs and rock and roll.
These were the essential nutrients of a poorly planned collegiate diet.
That’s why joining the Greek system my junior year was only natural.
I had done what I could as a GDI. I had partied with GDI guys and dated GDI girls. Now it was time to parlay my investment by sampling a new buffet of exciting stimuli.
I still stay in touch with a couple of the guys from the Delta Chi house. I am not sure how they rank now, but when I was there. We transformed a dog into a show pony.
I will never forget the days on 28th street.
And that is crazy.™