By PETER THUNELL
thunell@du2.byu.edu
Around here in the land of the schizophrenic weather, where temperature changes faster than a girl's feelings for her recently departed missionary, it's hard to really say when winter stops and spring begins.
Growing up, you knew when spring arrived because your favorite shows would start having episodes that took place at the beach. A.C. Slater and Jessie would find love at the beach during a very special episode of 'Saved by the Bell.'
'Knight Rider' and the 'A-Team' would all of the sudden have special assignments that took them to the beach to fight crime. Because of propaganda like this, we naturally associate spring with good times, beaches and fighting crime as scantily clad people wander aimlessly about in the background.
Spring also means Spring Break. Growing up, my family didn't do too much for Spring Break, and because of this lack of Spring Break experience, I have to deduce that most people spend Spring Break like they do on MTV. That is, hundreds of semi-conscious people stand in large crowds on the beach waiting for a TV camera to pan by them so that they can wave their arms and yell.
They then wait for another few hours hoping the camera will make another pass so that they can yell again and maybe do the 'raise the roof' thing with their hands.
Some might be all for BYU having a Spring Break, but I'm not. I say this because I know for a fact I would have to work the whole time. I know this because there are people at my work who ask for days off years in advance.
While I was still doing a paper route, these co-workers were putting in requests to get every Christmas Break off from 1986 to 2012. If you're smart, go wandering around Provo tomorrow, enter various businesses and ask for the Fourth of July holiday off. You never know where you'll be working this summer, and it's good to get a head start.
Don't get me wrong -- my job isn't so bad, but like most other jobs there are things I could do without. As a waiter, this would be the birthday thing. At most every restaurant, if you have a birthday you get a free dessert delivered to you by waiters singing some birthday song.
Having lost all self respect a long time ago, I can take the singing part just fine. It's the obvious lying for free dessert that dehumanizes me. If people would take a little time to premeditate their fake birthday lies, it would save everyone from an awkward moment.
Usually what happens is the loudest person at the table scans the table and says, 'Umm, it's uh, his birthday, yeah it's his birthday!' At this point, the guy or gal that has been pointed to rolls his eyes, gets embarrassed and mouths the words 'It's not my birthday.'
Then everyone at the table laughs and eggs 'the birthday boy' along until he finally says dejectedly, 'Yeah, I suppose it is my birthday.' I, of course, have to play along because accusing people of things makes for bad tips.
During this whole display, I can only imagine what the customers must think. I suppose they think I, the waiter, am the kind of person who falls for the old 'if your hand is bigger than your face then you have cancer' trick and still believes you get free Tootsie Pops for wrappers that have the Indian shooting the star.
So I suppose since I don't want to have to work extra hours, I have my own reasons for not wanting a Spring Break, but I realize everyone doesn't share my sentiment. People need a little bit of fun to break things up during a semester.
The problem is the Spring Fling isn't until the very end of the semester and the 'Fairs' (i.e. the Health Fair, Science Fair, etc.) that happen on campus aren't fairs at all. I went to a Communications Internship 'Fair' last week, and there wasn't any cotton candy or roller coasters in sight -- just a lot of people in suits sitting behind fold-up tables.
To make it more 'fair'-like I tried to convince one prospective employer to give me a job if I could throw a plastic ring around the top of her bottled water or guess her weight, but she refused.
If they're not going to provide over-priced rides and hot dogs of questionable origins, they should rethink calling the thing a 'fair' and call it something more indicative of the boredom it's bound to induce, like 'assembly.'
It seems that BYU was never meant to have a Spring Break or anything remotely like it. We should just leave the yelling for cameras to the inebriated people at Daytona Beach.