Having spent the first months of the New Year languishing in inactivity, I decided last week to engage in a little physical exercise. Being a rough-and-tumble macho man, I suited up for game time … and hit the tennis courts. When my partner and I (pause) arrived at Cornell’s Reis Tennis Center, we were greeted with an unwelcome surprise: a $48 fee for just an hour’s playtime.

Shelling out a Ulysses $. Grant to play a little tennis struck me as outrageous, and it got me to thinking: for what else does Uncle Ezra nickel and dime us?

Health and Welfare

Cornell has always counted physical and mental wellness as part of its mission statement, with all students required to pass a swim test and two physical education courses before graduating. Moreover, the University prides itself on Gannett Health Center, which, according to its website, serves “the academic mission of the university through [the] creation and support of a healthy campus community.”

Yet consider the cost to students — on top of their already increasing tuition dollars — to support these programs. Membership to the Cornell Fitness Center is either $90 per semester or $145 a year, and additional fees for mandatory P.E. courses can be over $80 for a single class. At the tennis courts, a doubles game might cost as much as $70!

And what of keeping clean in the nether regions? According to SHAG, a full testing for sexually transmitted diseases costs as much as $150, with HIV tests — which are free at Planned Parenthood — costing $25 for a blood test, and $45 for a cheek swab. At that rate, Cornell’s going to have to start handing out Financial AIDS packages.

It’s even expensive to watch other people stay in shape. Big Red sporting events can cost $247 for season hockey tickets, $18 for a single hockey game and $8 for a wrestling match — and these are student discount prices. Football games cost $5, but if you want to bring your family of five, it would cost $35 to fill seats that would be otherwise empty. Indeed, when my friends and family came to visit, we decided against stopping at the football arena on our campus tour, deterred by the nearly $80 we would have had to pay for a few minutes in the stands.

The bottom line: an active Cornellian pays an estimated annual $750-1,000 on top of tuition to stay safe and healthy and root for Big Red.

Wear and Tear

On top of keeping yourself in shape, Cornell requires you to partake in normal student functions … but at a price.

First off, there are the sky-high prices for textbooks at the Cornell Store, with semester expenditures often exceeding $500. These costs are so exorbitant that many professors now encourage students to purchase used books off Amazon.

The classroom costs don’t end there. In a microcomputing class in the Hotel School, students have to update to the latest version of Microsoft Office, which costs $75 for the student edition, and purchase a portable USB drive, totaling close to $200 in total expenses.

Even if you’ve purchased the necessary materials, you still need to turn in your homework. Thanks to the Cornell Library system, students can print from all over campus using the NetPrint system — but this service also comes at a cost. In December, my bill totaled $60, a pretty price for ink and paper. In a given semester, a student might spend upwards of $300 on printing from University computers.

Then there’s the University-mandated Cornell ID card. Luckily, if you lose it, it’s free to replace it for the first time (although they neglect to mention the $5 cancellation fee), but the second time you lose it, you’ll be in the (big) red $50 to Cornell.

The bottom line: a scholarly Cornellian pays $1,000 above tuition to supplement academic studies.

Moving and Shaking

One of the most publicized instances of nickel-and-diming is the issue of bus service. While in the past, TCAT busses were accessible to students without charge, a full-year pass now costs an astronomical $500, or $1.50 per ride. For a comparable sum, students can buy parking passes for individual cars, defeating what should be a competitive advantage of public transportation.

Then there’s the issue of University housing. In the past few years, we’ve been rapidly constructing housing for upperclassmen on West Campus, with the goal of eliminating the mass exodus to Collegetown that often comes after freshman year. Yet the price of University housing — $8,080 for a so-called “super single”; $7,560 for a single; and $6,680 for a double — rival some of the priciest locations in Collegetown. Why pay a monthly lease of $800 to live under R.A. supervision, when you can lease an apartment on the right side of the Slope for far less?

The bottom line: a publicly housed and transported Cornellian pays about $1,500 more per year than his peers by subscribing to University services.

Perhaps the single greatest accomplishment of the modern university is its incorporation of so many pursuits — whether they be academic, athletic, cultural or enjoyable — under a single banner. When every one of these amenities carries a price tag, the allure of the university is lost.

On a personal level, these fees come at a very bad time for me; I spent my whole allowance paying Trentacoste to hang out with me.

Rob Fishman is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be contacted at rbfishman@cornellsun.com. Agree to Disagree appears Wednesdays.