It may only be February, but Spring Break is almost upon us. Though with the alternating 30- and 60-degree days we’ve been having, I can see how you might be confused as to what season we’re even in.
In anticipation of the break, people already are hanging up winter coats, trading boots for flip-flops and doing that weird wire-walking thing between trees on the Lawn. The groundhog may have seen his shadow, but we college kids aren’t swayed by the meteorological predictions of rodents.
Never mind that spring doesn’t begin for another month — our vacation is a week-and-a-half away, and we’ll be damned if we’re going to usher it in with scarves and sweaters.
Ah, Spring Break, that time of year when thousands of college students flock south to thaw, like birds who got left behind. A time when you ignore the pleas of your professors and skip your Friday, Thursday and maybe even Wednesday classes before vacation. A time for road trips, sunburns, $10 margaritas as big as your head — and if you’re lucky, a lot of laughs at the expense of wrinkly old dudes in Speedos.
In years past, my Spring Breaks mostly have been low-key. I’ve never had what the show “Friends” once aptly referred to as “Spring Break woohoo!!!”
The “Spring Break woohoo!!!” may sound like a disease you catch from a wonky hot tub, but it’s actually the mythic sun-and-alcohol-soaked holiday that only seems to appear on TV and in movies. It’s when characters on teen dramas make the mistakes that will haunt them until the finale. It’s when coeds in horror films face karmic punishment for loose morals and wet T-shirt contests.
Take, for example, the cautionary tale, “Spring Break Shark Attack,” a 2005 made-for-TV movie. Assuming you aren’t among the six of us who actually watched it, the brains behind this deliciously terrible gem helpfully spelled out the plot in the title. Add all the cleavage that primetime can get away with and a sprinkling of “ironic” dialogue like, “No way! The guys there are sharks!” and you have a pretty good idea of what I’m talking about.
Which is, of course, pure awesomeness, the best of the worst. As I watched, my reactions went something like this: “Have these sharks evolved to feed on silicone breast implants? Does all that fruit punch in the water mean someone died? Did that fellow just purposefully windsurf into a shark’s mouth?” Needless to say, it was educational and entertaining.
In essence, “Spring Break woohoo!!!” is the first half of “Spring Break Shark Attack.” It’s a week-long clothing-optional party — only at the end, no muscled guy in a muscle tee saves you from the danger of an approaching dorsal fin.
It’s the kind of vacation we grew up watching on MTV Spring Break, but perhaps without quite so much staged dancing and karaoke — or maybe with more. It’s a place where neon bikinis and mesh half-shirts are the height of fashion, otherwise known as A.C. Slater’s version of heaven.
The “woohoo!” at the end of “Spring Break woohoo!!!” is the necessary verbal indication of how much fun you’re having. You can tag it onto any sentence, particularly with a high-pitched voice and an accompanying fist pump. On Spring Break, exclamation points are more than just a way of speaking. They’re a way of life.
And yet for all its cultural resonance, I am somewhat doubtful that the “Spring Break woohoo!!!” actually exists. I believe that the combination of tequila and heatstroke results in debauchery, but I also suspect MTV might have blown things out of proportion. It was likely an effort to shock those 13-year-olds — myself included — who were sneaking in some after-school cable before their parents came home.
It is possible that the “Spring Break woohoo!!!” — like other mythic beings, from unicorns to Bigfoot — is only spotted on rare occasions by the truest of believers, those that never take off their mesh and “woohoo!” in the face of every obstacle. For the rest of us, it’s the kind of thing we can only carry our cameras around in the hopes of spotting. In fact, as with Bigfoot, we might run scared if we ever actually did come across it.
But regardless, come Feb. 28, many will go out in search of the elusive “Spring Break woohoo!!!” I wish you the best of luck. Just, you know, watch out for sharks.
Rebecca’s column runs biweekly Wednesdays. She can be reached at r.marsh@cavalierdaily.com
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