It was reported by the Office of Materialistic Studies (OMS), that many college campuses would offer helicopter pads for their student body and parents to use. Helicopter pads would be installed on top of student dormitories to add to the school's list of student services and to accommodate "helicopter parents" and their need to find a life.
Since many government financial programs have been cut, this measure is also an attempt to attract a wealthier class of student and also for the rich children of Pakistani nationals that will soon be attending American universities.
A "helicopter parent" is a parent without a life that doesn't mind dropping in on their children from time to time because they are bored and don't know what to do with all their free time since their children have gone away.
"Forty years ago, going to college meant getting away from parents," said "Curious" George Mingle, who directs the National Survey of Student Engagement, a very large annual study of college students. "It meant finding yourself, who you are outside of your parents."
But Mingle says that's not the case anymore. Cell phones and "helicopter parents" have become the culprits. Cell phones make it too easy to call home and talk to "mommy" or "daddy." And "helicopter parents" don't have a life of their own, so they feel it their responsibility to drop in on their children from time to time.
It used to be that you had to wait for that pimply-faced devoted, sap to get off the phone with his first love before you could make a call home. That phone was your lifeline, the only one on your residence hall. But no more.
Much has changed on today's campuses. Today's campuses offer an array of amenities that coeds of yesterday only dreamed of. Take, for instance, George Washington University, where incoming freshman receive engraved chocolates under their pillows and an in-house massage during freshman orientation.
Or look at Ball State Universities new $50 million residence hall featuring motorized furniture, cocktail waitresses, a topless lounge, plasma television sets, refrigerators and microwaves, in-house masseuses, a day spa, health club, a digital music lab, robots delivering room service and a dining hall that takes orders online for take-out.
That's hardly what Princeton University President Woodrow Wilson had in mind 100 years ago when he commissioned a new set of residential buildings for the university.
Since they were fools, it was "better that they (students) live together in a monastery sealed off from the rest of the world," Wilson reasoned.
"Now, we've even bigger fools," says Historian, Jonathan Zimmerman of New York University. "We've moved from a Cold War Era of "Mutually Assured Destruction" to a new era of 'Mutually Assured Consumption.' I'm not sure which is worse, drowning in the blood of your enemies, or drowning in your own vomit. Neither seems suitable."
The jury is out for the public to decide.