While surfing the cable channels, I often land on MTV, which, as far as I can tell, inexplicably seems to showcase raucous spring break celebrations at all times of the year.
I really can't stomach watching such nonsense for too long, but I'll confess that I enjoy soaking in the scene for a few minutes. Especially when it's cold outside, I love to watch the shimmering sand, the skimpy bathing suits and the constant dancing. And this depiction makes it perfectly clear what's happening behind the scenes: all-night parties, drinking, sex.
Even on local TV news, there is always at least one segment every year with seemingly impossible images of the massive gyrating crowds in Daytona Beach, Fort Lauderdale and other relentlessly sunny locations.
Through the magic of television, I am instantly transported to the beach and I suddenly imagine myself in the midst of a joyous spring break, passing carelessly through a week without any classes or homework.
While I was in high school, I always imagined that that's how my college spring breaks would be, that I would learn to love the massive crowds and partake of the famous spring break drinking-fests. And I came to Duke convinced that at some point I would pile into the car with a group of friends and ride raucously to the ocean.
So, without further ado, I'll reveal the four thrilling destinations I hit in my four spring breaks: dull Piscataway, N.J., snowy Ann Arbor, Mich., dull Piscataway, N.J. and deserted Durham, N.C. After all that build-up, all those mental plans, I ended up with no beaches, not much drinking, no Florida and definitely no Cancún.
Now, I live in vicarious spring break heaven. I hear all of my friends talking about the fun places they've been or the exciting destinations they're heading off to. Just yesterday, I received a hastily written postcard from my best friend who was in the Virgin Islands. I guess he's having too much fun to fill out the whole thing.
And I know that next week, when my friends head home or journey off to Wilmington, Florida, Mexico and Jamaica, I'll be a little bit sad and a perhaps a little bit lonely.
The strange thing, however, is that I have very few regrets about my spring break plans and I'm not even all that bitter about never going anywhere. I'm glad I visited my family and friends my first three years, and this year, I'm eager to devote 10 consecutive days to my ominously incomplete thesis.
Anyway, for those of us who don't sleep enough during the school year, spring break is really just about resting up for the end of the year, and I can do that anywhere. Floridian chaos would be great, but 208 Brownstone will be just fine for me.
Richard Rubin is a Trinity senior and managing editor of The Chronicle.
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