At 8 p.m., The Asylum is scheduled to host its Punk Rock Prom.

At 7:30 p.m., Beth Rusticus, president of The Asylum, found out one of the headliners cancelled.

This is not new territory for Rusticus (junior-art), however. She and her group have organized many shows and know things do not always go as planned.

With the starting time of the show rapidly approaching, Rusticus shoots across the floor of the Heritage Hall in the HUB-Robeson Center. She approaches the stage, where the members of the opening band, Over It, are setting up and tells them that they no longer have to abide by any time constraints.

"You guys can basically play as many songs as you want," Rusticus says.

Vision, the evening's co-headliner, called her a mere 30 minutes prior to say its van broke down on Route 80 about two and a half hours outside State College. Though looking a little tense, Rusticus refuses to allow panic to overwhelm her demeanor.

"I don't know how I feel," Rusticus admits. "I'm OK right now. At least we have an opener for the April 20 show."

There still remains the problem of Vision's cancellation, a problem not figured into when the show was planned at a meeting two weeks prior. Though necessary to handle the business side of the group, The Asylum still refused to lose sight of the more freeform atmosphere, and the meeting held on March 14 testified to that.

As the subtle dusk gave way to a dark sky, the air remained humid on the uncharacteristically warm evening. The bells on Old Main chimed at the 7:30 p.m. mark, while 13 people congregated on the steps of Electrical Engineering East Building awaiting the official start of the already-late meeting.

The assembly of people was almost as diverse as can be imagined. Attire ranged from jeans and a T-shirt to khaki cargo pants and a sweater to maroon sweatpants and a gray-hooded sweatshirt. Still the dominant thread that bound the people there was the music -- and the desire to share that music, not readily available on radio and television, with those who enjoy it.

The group itself seemed the last thing on people's minds though, as separate cliques discussed a variety of topics: From band practices the following week to deciding not to go home for Easter.

Then, Rusticus stepped forward to start the official business. A shift of demeanor ensued as the arbitrary conversations change to deciding how to fill a leftover spot at the Punk Rock Prom.

The Asylum credits itself with being a group that provides non-alcoholic entertainment on weekends, usually once a month. Having been around for well over a decade already, the club boasts a plethora of shows provided to Penn State students.

For March, Rusticus planned something a little more obscure. Combining the Asylum's usual thrash rock and punk music with the impending rush of formals, Rusticus created the Punk Rock Prom. Though limousines and corsages may not be required, she said she hopes the Prom provides an event for members and others that shy away from the mainstream culture.

"Most people in Asylum are not involved in the fraternity/sorority scene, so as a result no one has a reason to get dressed for -- and it's fun to dress up," Rusticus said.

Asylum shows vary in size, as Rusticus explains. The show on Jan. 26 featuring the quasi-popular band Hot Rod Circuit drew an estimated crowd 500 strong. There have also been times when an audience of 50 is merely present to enjoy the show.

Hoping to draw a large crowd, the meeting turns to discussing the order of the bands, a sign of the slight differing of opinion that exists among the members of the club. Vision, a more established punk rock band, had been originally chosen to perform first. Colin Osborn (senior-environmental resource management) argued that they should be the headliners instead of the more local favorite, Fairweather. Rusticus tried to justify her own opinion looking at what would benefit the show the best.

"I'm thinking, in State College, Fairweather is
going to draw more. If they play before Vision, a lot of people might leave and that would suck," Rusticus said.

"Well, I'll be there dancing by myself to Vision then," Osborn said.

In addition, concerns arose about a lack of funding due to the exhaustion of University Park Allocation Committee funding; the means by which all Penn State University clubs obtain finances to function. Venue changes and higher admission fees were posed as possible solutions, but the only thing that was certain is the fact that there will be a show.

Twice last semester, the Asylum held shows completely for free -- the venue was free, the bands performed for free and the equipment was free. In the past, they have also had bands that agreed to play for just the gas money used to get to the show.

"We still find ways to do shows even when there's no money," Rusticus said.

Funding has always been a difficult factor, especially for a group that prides itself on being a free alternative to drinking. There was still some skepticism among the group itself as to the hopes of making money to pay the bands for the upcoming show on April 20, the last show of the semester.

"We're too punk rock for fundraising," Matt Kipilman (freshman-architecture) interjected.

With all topics of business exhausted, Resticus summed up the main points before letting the people go. The meeting clearly drew near to ending as the members grew restless standing under the amber glow of the patio. With fliers in hand, each person began to meander away.

As more and more people wander into Heritage Hall around 8:05, they join the few people who have arrived in the hall remain to the sides, sitting in the large window sills that overlook the HUB lawn and College Avenue. Rusticus continues to greet the band Truth About Lies as they enter.

Following the theme of the evening, she stands tall in a long pink skirt and a black tank top. Her true colors shine through with the outfit properly accessorized by chunky black boots and a black hooded sweatshirt, adorned with various band pins and patches, from Rancid to Dropkick Murphys.

Others came in a variety of garb -- from shirts and ties to jeans and t-shirts. Guitarist Nick Bailey of Over It did not know what to expect and was even a little disappointed when he learned the premise for the evening.

"I wish they told me it was a prom because I would've worn my tux," Bailey laments. "It's OK though, I would've gotten it all nasty and sweaty anyway."

Jon Grindell (senior-telecommunications), who came in his cap and gown from high school, wears one of the more original outfits. Celebrating his upcoming graduation, he readies his emancipation from student life the same way he has spent the past four years -- at an Asylum concert. Grindell claims to have been to almost every show in his time at Penn State. The DJ for an indie rock show on WKPS, Penn State's college radio station, full heartedly supports The Asylum both as a fan of the music and an admirer of its ideal.

"Well, it's free shows on weekend encouraging a fun environment where drinking's not part of it."

His level of involvement in the club is still a debatable topic though, as Grindell tries to figure it out himself with some help.

"Am I a member of The Asylum even though I've been to zero meetings?" Grindell says.

"Well, sort of," Rusticus says.

"I am on the list-serve."

Even though the people at the show comprise familiar faces and newfound allies to The Asylum, they all come for the same reason, the music. And by 8:40 p.m., that's what consumes the crowd. When Over It finally takes the stage a mere 40 minutes late, all the confusion and calamity melts away, at least until the end of the band's set. Everyone then returns to wandering around the hall, completely disregarding the lost headliner. It may not be a perfect night, but no one seems to mind.

With Truth About Lies taking the stage, the audience again convenes to the center of the hall and cheers, even starting a small mosh pit with three girls and four guys. Rusticus simply stands on the side and enjoys the show herself. After all, she's a fan as well.

"I like to have nothing to do at the show, just because I have so much to do beforehand."

With the support of members and others, Rusticus still presses on and The Asylum will still put on more shows, with no end in sight. She could easily make her work her group's a lot easier, as she sits back and reflects on the evening. The idea gets dismissed quickly, and thus The Asylum continues as a way for the counterculture to enjoy what the mainstream does not allow.

"It would be easier if we just contracted one band to play," Rusticus says.

"But that's just not the way our shows go."