March 11

Friday

So, it doesn’t take a talking, self-referencing events listing to tell you that Spring Break is quickly approaching-something about the topless screaming co-eds running willy-nilly around the library and beer-bong-toting freshman setting up camp outside the Union probably tipped you off already.

Oh wait, that’s just what it’s like at every other college in America. Our bad.

However, while you’re probably well-aware that the only legally sanctioned collegiate excuse to go buy sketchy pharmaceuticals in Mexico is only days away, what you probably don’t know is the story behind Spring Break-you know, how Spring Break got started, what its influences were, who it dated when it was in high school, etc.

Luckily for you, Calendar and Spring Break go waaaaaay back-in fact, motherf***** still owes us $20-and we’re here to dish all the dirt on the sordid and often scandalous backstory of everyone’s favorite holiday (and by ‘holiday,’ we mean ‘excuse to go out and get irresponsibly drunk and try to proposition every member of the opposite sex that crosses your periphery, until, in bitter dissolution, you fall down and pass out in a gutter…in Tijuana…and wake up in a bathtub…full of ice…with no kidneys’).

Believe it or not, but the history of Spring Break can all be traced back to one man. See, before Spring Break met this dubious fellow in the late 1980s, it was nothing more than a lowly week in March with no friends and nothing but a crappy Pauly Shore-hosted MTV special to show for itself. After the two crossed paths, however, Spring Break instantly became a cultural phenomenon.

Who was that man? None other than Public Enemy’s clock-wearing resident crazy, Flava Flav.

Indeed, under the Jedi-esque tutelage of Flav, Spring Break learned all there was to know about hyping itself shamelessly, wearing awesome florescent pants and generally acting like a lunatic whenever possible-all skills that Spring Break later parlayed into millions of dollars by marketing itself to college students nationwide as “The place to be for debauchery!”

Don’t believe Calendar that Flav was the designing force behind the whole Spring Break explosion? Fine then-go ask the man himself, when Flav brings the, um, flavor to Harry O’s in Park City tonight at 8 p.m. Tickets to the tasting are $25.

But, even after Spring Break studied the ways of vacationing with Flav, it still had much work to accomplish before it became the force it is today. Upon parting ways with its former mentor, Spring Break took a sabbatical to Ireland, where it hooked up with The Young Dubliners, who taught Spring Break the ins-and-outs of extreme inebriation. The Dubliners poured pint after pint of Guinness down Spring Break’s gullet, rendering the week a lifelong alcoholic with Pavlovian effectiveness.

Calendar feels like this is reasonable, though, because really, who’s better equipped to train the liver of a wannabe holiday than the Irish? Those dudes can D-R-I-N-K. Check out all the outlandish imbibing (Calendar note: Only losers drink irresponsibly) in person with The Young Dubliners tonight at The Velvet Room (155 W. 200 S.) at 7:30 p.m. for $16.

And still, Spring Break had more work to do. After a brief rendezvous with Marty McFly (the result of which was Spring Break beating the crap out of the guy and stealing his sweet time-traveling ride), Spring Break went back to the future to see exactly what lay ahead, so as to better prepare for the mayhem. After tricking-out the tin-can-on-wheels with a thumpin’ system so it could bump “The Thong Song” all day long (much to the dismay of, well, everyone), Spring Break garnered some invaluable ideas for its future development (hint: Snoop Dog, a video camera, alcohol and a whole bunch of “self-respecting young women” going wild). Come check out the car Spring Break used to break all the rules of physics, Dolorean, tonight at Kilby Court at 7 p.m. Tickets available at the door.

Then Spring Break met up with a pair of twin sisters from Canada, who happen to enjoy the company of individuals of the same gender, and rock the socks of in-tune indie kids both sides of the border. To tell you the truth, this occurrence really didn’t do much to mold the future of Spring Break-but nevertheless, Tegan and Sara really do rock. And you should go see them. Seriously. Dig on the sibling rivalry all night long at Lo-Fi Caf (165 S. West Temple), starting at 7 p.m. for $15.

And, just when it seemed like Spring Break had evolved as far as it could, something truly unexpected happened-the week went and surprised everyone by temporarily abandoning its unrestrained self-indulgence (wait, wait…that sounds like Calendar) and going back to business school. After several long years of hitting the books, Spring Break earned its MBA, finally amassing the intellectual tools to market itself and its ideas to the masses without being exploited by The Man. And now, for a limited time only, you can do the same-MBA information session, 12 p.m. in CRCC 125 on campus.

But really, all the information you need to know about getting an MBA is this: It sucks, you’ll invariably work in a cubicle, wearing the ugliest paisley ties imaginable, purchased for you by a spouse who only married you for your money, and everyone will laugh at your sell-out ways behind your back. See you there.

Such is the story of Spring Break: It’s long, kinda overdone and usually too soaked in booze to mean anything…which, as far as Calendar can tell, is pretty much the way Spring Break is experienced across the globe.

Cool story, huh?

See you suckas after the break. Calendar out.