The Babcock Report: No Country For Old Men

A Retrospective Look At Spring Break 2008

Some of you who know me may be disappointed by what I am going to write here today. Certainly there was a time when the words "Babcock" and "Mexico" would have heralded tales of debauchery and hilarity heretofore unrivaled in the 21st century. No friends, it may have taken a trip to Spring Break 2008 in Cancun, Mexico for me to realize it, but alas, those days have come to an end.






Throughout my four years at college I never once enjoyed a Spring Break vacation of anykind. In fact the highlights of my vacations from school most often included receiving extra portions of instant mashed potatoes and chicken nuggets at the high school cafeteria where I spent my breaks fixing light fixtures and scrubbing vulgar vandalism from the girls room walls. I admit I enjoyed these times; working for the school department allowed me to come back to school with enough money to frequent Uncle Tom's on at least three or four occasions before I had to resort to shaking down my parents again for more money. Working just seemed like the sensible thing to do with my vacation; it was certainly less stressful than being at school, and I got paid. Now, in all honesty anyone who has suffered through a sweaty basement social party at Ladd House deserves a trip to Mexico to party...god knows I have earned my share of tropical vacations suffering through the various on-campus "parties" at Bowdoin college. So when my girlfriend and I booked a trip to Cancun last fall, I felt a sense of vindication...like the fat kid who never got into a football game until the last play of his senior year (inevitably to watch the other team kneel on the ball to seal victory), my time had come. Right? Maybe not.

The hotel where we were staying at was segregated into two distinct groups. People on Vacation and Kids on Spring Break. There were two separate beaches, two separate pools, and even separate dining facilities. It actually made perfect sense, and if it hadn't been that way anyone at this place trying to enjoy the peaceful sound of the waves would have had to endure some meathead with a tribal armband shouldering you out of the way to order a rum and coke and say "whats up ladies?" to any girl within a 15 yard radius every 5 minutes from 9am to 5am, every single day. I'm not kidding. Part of me wanted to say, "Man, I was just like that once." but the god's honest truth is that I never had a tribal armband.


My days in Cancun were spent by the pool, relaxing, taking it all in. Listening in on the conversations of 16 year old girls talking about how awesome such and such a foam party was, or who dry humped the longest at the Akon concert. I tried to keep an open mind. In the evenings a shuttle bus ran from the hotel to the main strip of Bars and Clubs. If you have never been to Cancun, here is a rough description of the set-up. The whole tourist area that is famous for spring break is set up along a long stretch of sand that juts out into the ocean from the mainland of Mexico like a giant skid mark. Along this finger like stretch of sand one road runs North and South...hotels and resorts are on the south end of the finger, clubs are on the Northern tip. A good analogy to this set up would be as follows: Stick your finger up your ass, all the way up. Now, the hotels would be around where your finger meets your hand; its crowded, a little hot, but there is enough light to see what you are doing and to move around a little. The clubs and bars would be at the tip of your finger; Hot, sticky, packed with horrible things, Dark, smelly, techno music constantly playing at extremely high levels...you feel ashamed of being there.


There are buses that you can hop on for a dollar that take you from one end to the other. The bus drivers will try to rip you off by giving you incorrect change every time. Sometimes when you go back up to complain they give you incorrect change a second time. Most people just give up or are too drunk to notice it in the first place. Simply put, the buses are my own version of hell. Each one that took us from the hotel to the bars/clubs had a ratio of 70 dudes to 3 girls. 99% of the dudes were already drunk. The girls were left to fend for themselves while every single dude took turns hitting on them. You see some strange things on the bus: kids that couldn't be more than twelve years old puking out of a window, girls allowing guys to motorboat them. All the while 2 or 3 actual Mexicans ride along in horror, amazed that America is actually considered one of the most advanced societies in the world.


So, you ride in this bus for about 30 minutes (actually travelling a distance of about 1 mile), and then you get into a line for a club. If you have purchased a wrist band from a tour company that guarantees you "VIP" acccess and "No lines" you usually only have to wait in line for about 45 minutes. Then you flock like lemmings to a cliff inside these dark palaces of techno and cheap mixed drinks where 8 or 9 hundred other people are allready pushing and shoving their way to a bar. Now people would have you think that these VIP passes allow you access to an open bar...not quite. Unless you tip the bartenders or are a hot girl, good luck getting anything to drink. Even when you do tip, you often have to wait in a line, fighting for your life with those around you as if you were trying to get on the last life raft of the Titanic. Most of the time I just wanted to drown. In this one club called "The City" there had to be at least 5 thousand people inside (Mexico apparently has no fire codes), the ambiance was perfectly summed up by the large portrait of Paris Hilton near the entrance, a man in a Predator like costume juggling fire on a stage and the fact that Floyd Mayweather came out on stage, raised his hand, and then went back off to some back room presumably to resume an orgy. I spent the evening we went to this club watching two teenagers simulate sex with their clothes on about 1 foot away from me. It was the grossest make out/dryhump session I have ever seen. They were doin that thing where two people make out with their tongues only their mouths aren't touching, only their tongues are. I think they were both about 17. Does this make me a pervert? Perhaps. But there was no where else for me to stand.


There were some good things about this trip. My girlfriend and I had a great dinner at Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville, I saw a couple of girls make out, spent hours in the perfect water (about 80 degrees) and slept as much as I wanted to. I can't tell you how much it made me miss the United States. I don't want to put down Mexico, and I realize I was staying in one of the worst places in the world (in terms of gross activities and all around sketchiness) but I couldn't wait to have a steak and cheese and watch ESPN in English. I didn't want to drink another rum and coke made with Mr. Boston rum. I didn't want to look at the absolute scum of our country hit on girls anymore and generally make all of the Mexican's think that we are pompous dirtbags. I was fortunate enough to go on the trip with a good group of people, I was even luckier that I was there with my girlfriend; the prospects of having to fight off 700 guys to even talk to one girl is far too much like Bowdoin college than I care to relive. On top of it all I didn't have a serious tribal tattoo to get my foot in the door at the wet tshirt contest or the coed relay races.


So, anyway, I am back and happy. I realize that I really didn't miss all that much by not making it to Cancun before now, in fact I am glad I didn't. I don't think I'll ever return either. Given the fact that Cancun is just a long sand bar alone in the ocean gives me hope that some day a large wave will come and wash it all away, erasing all evidence that it ever existed. Right now the first round of the NCAA tournament is underway and I am home from work early. I have to believe that spring will be here soon and that better times are ahead for civilization. As I write this post, I am feeling a renewed sense of excitement about the world of sports: The Celtics are playing great right now, the NFL draft is just over a month away, and opening day of the 2008 MLB season is within spitting distance. It is good to be back.