DARTBOARD

REALLY EARLY BIRD SPECIAL

Breakfast, of course, is the best meal of the day, especially if it's the last one--a phenomenon not uncommon around this time of year. And we're not just talking about dining halls here, though the oatmeal and cream of wheat are absolutely delectable. Various alternatives exist that surpass whatever is offered on the plastic trays, depending on what you order.

The Tasty, for example, is a most à propos selection for an early morning snack. Of course you've been there for coffee and smokes 'round midnight, but at four or five a.m., nothing can beat a grilled cheese and tomato. (Note that if you take sugar with your coffee, you're a freak, though the pleasant help there won't let you know that.)

It's a pity that the only other establishments permanently open for business are Store 24 and Christy's. Nevertheless, there is much to chow on. We recommend the microwaveable bologna and swiss or the frozen Hungry Man. The Hostess products are always a safe bet. A caveat to weary consumers: Pepperidge Farm box sets are overpriced beyond belief.

Unfortunately for all those emerging from the Sever editing rooms any earlier, Bruegger's opens late--at 6:00. Simplicity is paramount there: a cinnamon raisin with butter and coffee (Harvard Square's best) is your best option. Nourishment and caffeine, in one.

Being the first customer brings euphoria. This is a feeling we highly recommend, in spite of sleep deprivation. You may think you need your z's, but when you're grinding out that Core paper at the break of day, you know better. You are large and in charge. You need breakfast. Joshua A. Kaufman

SUNNY, EXCITING NEW HAVEN

Bashing Yale has taken place many times on this page. Perhaps it's become eliché. But that doesn't mean it ceases to be fun.

More than 100 Yale workers and their families have taken advantage of the school's home-buying program, which encourages them to live in the urban wasteland known as New Haven. The program gives $20,000 over a 10-year period to any employee who buys and lives in a home in New Haven by the end of this year.

A sad state of affairs obtains when a university has to bribe its employees to live near the school. The home-buying program is an act of absolute desperation on the part of Yale.

One would hope that a university would be located in a city nice enough so that people would actually want to live there, without incentives. Or that life in the city would be tolerable enough not to require giving five-figure incentives to employees.

The message Yale is sending out with this program is, "Please, we're begging you. Please live in the armpit of Connecticut that our university calls home. We'll do anything for you. Hey, we'll even pay you!"

Yale's program is pathetic. But some people appear to be quite pleased by Yale's transparent plea for people to reside in New Haven.

"I applaud Yale for its belief in the viability of the city," New Haven Mayor John DeStefano Jr. said. (He has to say things like this. He's the mayor--it's his job.)

We at Dartboard question DeStefano's interpretation of the program. DeStefano argues that it represents Yale's confidence in the city's potential to be a bustling and prosperous metropolis. We have a different take on things: the program represents Yale's desperate attempt to trick people into thinking that living in New Haven would be a wise move.

Twenty thousand dollars seems like a lot of money. But it's spread out over a 10-year period. If a family were to take this money and move to New Haven, the increase in their home and auto insurance premiums might be greater than the money they get from Yale.

"These 125 employees represent 125 potential Little League coaches, 125 taxpayers," said DeStefano. These employees also represent 125 new people to steal from, 125 potential murder victims, or 125 families with children to be kidnapped.

Indeed, we see in Yale's plan the broad outlines of an arrangement that could be turned into an adaptation of Indecent Proposal.

"Would you spend an evening in New Haven if I gave you a million dollars?"

The answer is a resounding no.   David B. Lat

JUST JEWETT

We at Dartboard would like to propose a toast: to Dean of the College L. Fred Jewett '57, who will leave his job in July to begin a lucrative advertising career.

Yes, Jewett finally took Nike's offer to sell sneakers as a "Just Do It" exemplar by just doing it to the housing lottery. Flying in the face of adversity, albeit without wearing running shoes, Jewett went all the way--no more ninny-pinny non-ordered choice. He truly embodies that go-get-'em Nike ideal.

But there's more for the lucky dean. He'll be appearing in a series of spots for Mountain Dew as well, with the slogan "Just Dew Ett." Joined by other titans of college administration, Jewett will profess the outright wussiness of the housing decision when compared to the chest-hair-inducing powers of a certain near-fluorescent caffeinated beverage.

We hope that Jewett will think of us as he reaps millions in residuals. Perhaps, with his help, every dining hall will install a Mountain Dew machine right next to Mrs. Widener's cherished ice cream.   Daniel Altman