Recalling springs that didn’t come with breaks

When spring break rolls around, I enjoy watching the news coverage of college students, frolicking in the sun and sand with their gallon jugs of vodka and pedialyte or parading through the streets of Miami Beach, causing mayhem. It makes me wonder: “How come I never had a fun-filled vacation like that?”

I mean, I liked booze, I liked girls in bikinis, I liked to party, I liked loud, raucous gatherings in the Woodstock tradition. But now, it’s too late. It’s Paradise Lost. Thinking back, I can’t imagine how I missed out on this great American rite of spring.

Actually, I know how — my father had other plans. Every year, come spring break, dear old dad sent me to work with my cousin Larry and his partner Dicky Dare, founders and proprietors of P&I Mason Contractors.

In fact, my father brokered the deal, and he might have even gotten a finder’s fee. While other college kids were fancy free, terrorizing Fort Lauderdale, I was mixing mortar and lugging bricks and cement blocks up the scaffold. And I didn’t even get a tan.

Spring break festivities always generate headlines. There’s binge drinking, wrestling, beach games, shootings and a fair amount of hysterics. Did I mention sex?

Looking back, I feel a bit deprived. On the other hand, I was where I was meant to be, getting in touch with my blue collar roots and learning about life from the working man.

My father’s theory was simple, although back then I thought it was “simpleminded.” If I was going to college, somebody had to foot the bill, namely me. Not Lyndon B. Johnson or Richard M. Nixon because they were too busy lying about the Vietnam War. As you know, it was a time in our nation’s history when there was much turmoil, not like today, when we all get along and the country is running smoothly. (That was supposed to be a joke.)

Maybe Lyndon or Richard would have paid off my college loans, like Joe Biden, if they didn’t have a war to finance, and if college kids weren’t driving them crazy with protests. Times have changed. Today, students embrace government, no questions asked.

Even though I wish the government had used your tax dollars to pay for my college education, I’m glad it used them to pay for the college education of men and women who served in Vietnam because they deserved it. Plus, they never got a chance to go crazy in Miami Beach.

I can’t remember if my daughters ever went south on spring break. If they did, I should have talked them out of it and sent them to work with my cousin Larry instead. It would have given them a perspective on life you don’t get in college.

Unfortunately, during the years I worked with bricklayers, I was a constant source of amusement, and they never missed an opportunity to guffaw whenever I did something stupid.

Larry would snicker, “Don’t get your hand caught in the cement mixer. Or your head.”

They got their yuks, laughing at the college kid. One time we were working at a professor’s house, while he was loading his car with boxes of books. One by one, he carried them from the garage to his car, which was parked on the street 30 feet away. After watching this ritual for about 10 minutes, Larry said, “How smart can this guy be? All he has to do is back the car down the driveway and load it.”

“Maybe he needs the exercise,” I responded, although I wasn’t so sure. Maybe he had problems backing up.

Professors are often accused of trying to spread their political ideologies in the classroom. I tried a little of that myself, but it had nothing to do with politics.

I recently deviated from the course material and gave my students a lecture on binge drinking, urging them not to follow the latest TikTok fad, which is rampant on spring break. You may have heard of “borg drinking.” (And no, it doesn’t involve the alien cyborgs from “Star Trek: The Next Generation,” who were fond of saying, “Resistance is futile.”)

Borg stands for “blackout rage gallon.” It’s been in the news ever since a few dozen students at UMass Amherst got shuttled by ambulance to the emergency room because they did too much borging, if there’s such a word. They mixed vodka and other assorted delicacies in plastic gallon jugs and chugged it. The concoction, which typically includes booze, water, electrolytes and caffeine, is said to prevent hangovers.

Ya gotta love these kids. They’re always following the science, not to mention the social media. They could have benefited from a few weeks with my cousin Larry, who would have told them: “OK, Zoomer, it’s time to start using the brain God gave you.” He taught me a lot and could have brought them to their senses, too. May he rest in peace in that great construction site in the sky.

Postscript: My wife just informed me our daughters never went on spring break because she didn’t let them. She sent them out to work instead. My father would be proud.

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