If Julia Ann Griffith had her way, Soulja Boy would be doing the Lindy Hop, Q100 would be blasting Bing Crosby and ­— gosh darnit — the petticoat would be flying off department store shelves.

OK, I don’t know if Julia Ann actually feels that way. I’ve never spoken to the lady. But after reading her recent editorial in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution — no doubt written with a quill pen and delivered by the Pony Express — I get the feeling she’s not a fan of us kids and our “rap music” and “dance parties.”

Griffith, advancing the same type of logic that made the Prohibition so successful, writes that college-age drinking is bad. Apparently there’s a big brouhaha over whether alcohol should be sold in Emory Village. Griffith believes the demon whisky (and beer... and wine...) should be banned from that stamp-sized stretch of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Griffith and some of her Alliance to Improve Emory Village cronies claim to be looking out for the well-being of us young’uns. It seems more likely that they’re trying to protect the integrity of the “historical Druid Hills neighborhood” (read: property values). This is why, when Dave’s Cosmic Subs moved into its shack at the edge of the Village, a bunch of Alliancers tried to shut it down. It was an “eyesore,” delicious subs be damned.

Griffith’s solution to the epidemic (plague...scourge...) of college-age drinking is as absurd as the idea of Soulja Boy doing the Lindy Hop. Think about it: Griffith wants to get rid of all the places students can walk to for a drink.

Students aren’t going to stop drinking, so that means they’ll have to jump in a car to get their alcohol fix.

In fact, this is exactly what happened when Park Bench, the Village’s lone bar, closed a few years ago. Students migrated to Maggie’s and Famous in Toco Hills.

Now, instead of walking a few hundred yards to drink, students drive down Houston Mill, a road with more twists and turns than the Matterhorn. It’s hard enough to navigate Houston Mill on a sunny afternoon; after a few drinks, it’s like playing Russian Roulette without any empty chambers.

Did students raise hell at Park Bench? Of course. But at least this was in Emory’s backyard. And at least it didn’t involve two tons of metal hurtling down the veritable Rube Goldberg contraption that is Houston Mill.

In the end, Griffith’s defense rests on the following two-year-old quote she plugged in from the Emory Report: “Emory has a substantial and worsening problem with high-risk drinking and drug use among its student body and it needs to address this problem before being forced to do so by ... a student death or an episode of violence.”

Like Griffith’s argument, the use of this quote misses the point. In the same article, a task force assigned to the issue acknowledges that this conclusion may be an over-simplification. Likewise, the task force encouraged — and the University implemented — progressive and laudable policies to deal with college-age drinking. To their credit, University officials realize their policies will do little to curb college-age drinking. “I believe students will choose to drink or not drink regardless of the policy,” Andrea Trinklein, then-director of Residence Life, wrote to the Wheel in 2005. Instead, Emory encourages students to seek medical attention if they drink too much alcohol.

To be fair, Griffith’s concern isn’t entirely misplaced. Underage drinking is a problem. But it’s not going to stop if you don’t allow Everybody’s to serve a pint, just like Prohibition didn’t do anything to curtail drinking in the 1920s.

It’s about education, not abstinence. Ask anyone who’s been to a sorority formal or a fraternity party: the kids resting their head on a toilet seat are, more often than not, the ones who have the least experience with alcohol. As University President James W. Wagner has emphasized more than once, the solution is responsible drinking, not teetotalism.

But, hey, maybe if we get rid of the alcohol in Emory Village, the problem of college-age drinking will just disappear. When that happens, get ready to bust out your petticoats, ladies. Because I’ve got a feeling the Lindy Hop will be ready to make a comeback.

Senior Staff Writer Steven Stein is a College senior from Los Angeles.