Tomorrow is Mifflin. It will be my third time going. The first was impressive. After doing some shots in Chadbourne, I packed a backpack full of Keystone Light and wandered around a series of backyards with my friends, desperately looking for a place to urinate that would escape the view of one of the many lurking Sheriff deputies.
Many people have had great times at Mifflin. It's a great spectacle. The hundreds of kids packed on to the decks, the giant beer bongs, and the dozens of arrests you'll surely witness.
But it's not necessarily fun. In the end, it's only as fun as the beer you drink and the friends who surround you make it. It's not the guarantee that, say, Branson, Missouri offers.
It can also be a huge pain if you don't know somebody on Mifflin. Not only do normal open container laws stand, but cops make it their mission to nab you as soon as you set foot on the pavement. There was some decline in the arrests last year, but rigorous enforcement of the open container ordinance is clearly the way the MPD has decided to control Mifflin.
In addition, the city decided a few years ago to be a major bitch about music. Any houses that have live bands playing put themselves at risk of a major ticket, as if the volume level makes a difference by the point the entire neighborhood is out drinking.
The result is that Mifflin is nothing more than a glorified house party. If the city would just turn the Mifflin neighborhood into New Orleans for a day, the party would be awesome. It would be worth going to every year of college. This year I'll go, but more because of you than me. I will take pictures of the debauchery and report back to Sconz Nation.
