I believe that I am at a loss for words. This is never a good thing if you write a weekly column. But then again, I nearly walked through purgatory last Saturday night as hundreds of so-called “Catholic schoolgirls” partied hard to give religion a good, solid name.
It was Cal Poly’s own display of “work hard to play hard,” but I couldn’t help notice its similarities to an animal breeding ground. Remove the vulgar mental images; I’m not here to bash our generation’s dance style, aka simulated sex. It’s pretty obvious that parties are put in place to do just that, party. But when was it decided that we should ‘skankify’ them to help promote our instinctual quests? The Discovery Channel has open tundra and high-pitched mating calls; we have dress up parties with the base bumping to “In Da Club:” our makeshift Serengeti. I’m not saying that every party-goer is on a hunt to find a mate; but I can’t help notice how our age group has taken the concepts of courting and dating and replaced them with low carb beers and a night of lustful pursuit. To think what Miss Scarlet O’Hara would say.
Oh the good ol’ days: when women covered up to entice that sense of mystery. Now it is so blatantly apparent that, in a way, we are what we wear. Ouch. Its one thing to be what you eat, but how far fetched is it to say that our generation gets what they want based on how they’re dressed? Halloween didn’t used to be a holiday in honor of who can get away with wearing the least amount of clothing. And I’m pretty sure that when my middle school thought about enforcing school uniforms, there wasn’t a girl in the room who jumped for joy at dressing down, to get down. Was something lost along the way?
Perhaps our innocence is lost on the road to where fate and reality so often converge. No, I’m not preaching that we should go back to bobby socks and fountain soda dating, but you can’t deny that it would be nice to have a girl wear a guys’ pin versus trying to get pinned. To think what will be scandalous for our kids, as we slowly evolve into being those old people who “just can’t relate.”
But why watch the Discovery Channel when you can tune in to those Saturday night parties where dancers come from far and wide to shake off a tough week. Guy meets girl, girl eyes another potential and suddenly, the heat is on and the “call of the wild” is heard.