Confessions of a pop culture watchdog

By Christopher DaCosta

Now that Rainbow brand footwear is out in full force, I think it's safe to say that it is indeed the season for complete, unbridled spring apathy. That's right, who wants to go to "Statistics and Data Analysis" when Maury Povich (Jerry Springer's turtleneck wearing rival) is revealing yet another shocking teen paternity test on the good, old WB? What's another 1 p.m. class missed to go scope out some hotties at the Graham pool or Benson fountain? So what if your group project meeting takes a backseat to your workout schedule? You need to look good for when you go tanning, right?

It's very easy to let this attitude prevail; I've been known to indulge in a little third quarter hooky myself. Now that the weather is gorgeous, it's hard to not want to hang out on the lush grass with the other polo shirt, cargo short clad clones.

Even though the days are longer, spring quarter nights have the stamina and endurance of Hugh Hefner after he pops his favorite blue pill. Many expert procrastinators conserve brain activity during the day and wait to begin midterm studying and paper writing after midnight. For others, the night hours allow for more strenuous activities to take place â€" my roommates like to give their thumbs a workout by playing Halo.

Undoubtedly, the best perks of the warmer weather are the hot, hot nights. No longer do you need to coordinate your party attire with a trendy jacket, instead try to wear as little clothing as possible or you might suffocate on the dance floor â€" I know I nearly did at last week's highlighter party. After hijacking the dance area with my roomies, we quickly retreated after realizing our sweat-drenched shirts were dripping our highlighter-scrawled one-liners all over the floor. Sadly though, no shirts came off at the Wasteland extravaganza, but I must admit that scribbling incoherently across someone's chest was rather erotic.

Sometimes the dusk heat makes people do crazy things. I bore witness to perhaps the most horrendous party gaffe at the aforementioned highlighter party. While I will spare you the details, let's just say that I learned a very important lesson: never, under any circumstances attempt to hoist a girl up out of a crowd of writhing and giddy highlighter enthusiasts while atop a makeshift bar.

This is just one of the valuable lessons I've learned with regard to our campus' social intricacies. Over my 25 week stint as Scene columnist, you and I, dear reader, have seen our hipster quotient skyrocket thanks to various influences such as the new and improved VH1 (remember the days when it's only purpose was our "Pop-up Video" fix?).

I trust that my faithful devotees will continue to keep tabs on all things fashion-related while ensuring that the pulse of the Santa Clara party scene beats with a healthy tempo. This is Chris, signing off as pop culture watchdog. Stay sweet and fashionably frisky!

û Contact Christopher DaCosta at (408) 554-4546 or cdacosta@scu.edu.