On Wednesday morning, I left my house bundled up and ready for another day of rushing from class to class, scarf covering my raw and runny nose to avoid the winter cold. But by mid-afternoon the sun was shining and temperatures were rising – I was forced to strip down, layer by layer, and discovered that somehow, in the middle of February, my T-shirt and jeans were more than enough protection from the elements. I even considered going home and trading my loafers for flip-flops. 65 degrees? Blue sky instead of dreary gray? Clearly, anyone who has a problem with global warming hasn’t spent a winter in Eugene.
As it turns out, the majority of campus shares the sentiment.
I challenge anyone who doubts that humans are nothing but animals to spend some time on the University campus on a sunny day in February. The skin that’s been hibernating all winter long rears its pasty and unshaven head, and the streets become a meat market as jeans give way to Daisy Dukes, flannel shirts give way to tank tops, and North Face jackets give way to, well, North Face puffy vests. It’s like a zoo during mating season – rituals, cat calls and all – to see frat boys flexing their muscles (and co-op boys flinging frisbees) while sorority girls show a little extra booty and gay boys like me – hang on, that frat boy just took off his shirt…
There are the obvious reasons why clothes become scarce and students trade classes for sports-playing and guitar-strumming on the quad every time the sun makes a guest appearance on campus: We’ve uncovered every last hidden study corner in the library, our ghost-white legs need tanning, and football just isn’t as much fun indoors.
But I think there’s a sexier – if not sinister – reason behind the madness. And the people at Scientific American magazine just might agree with me.
On Feb. 2, Punxsatawney Phil, the fabled groundhog cum meteorologist, poked his head out of the ground and caught a glimpse of his shadow. In doing so, he sentenced the world to six more weeks of winter and University students to six more weeks of dreary rain and cold. (If you’re wondering what underdressed co-eds, science magazines and oversized rodents have in common, stick with me – there is a point.) Now, it may seem quite selfish of Phil not to just keep his furry head underground and let us have spring early. But his intentions were honorable, and they’re ones I imagine many of you can relate to.
“Groundhogs who emerge from hibernation in the dead of February are checking out their mating prospects,” according to a Scientific American blog post that drew its conclusions from a Penn State study published in 2003.
Apparently groundhogs’ hibernation season ends in early March, but the male rodents in particular come out of hiding early to visit potential partners, and the females are welcome recipients of these “burrow-calls.”
“For males, these early excursions are an opportunity to survey their territories and to establish bonds with females,” Penn State associate professor of biology Stam. M. Zervanos said. “For females, it is an opportunity to bond with males and assess food availability.”
If you ask me, the students I saw around campus that sunny Wednesday afternoon were just like Phil and his fellow groundhogs. The already-roving gazes of 18-to-24-year-old males became predatory laser beams, scoping out and surveying subjects with deadly aim and not-so-hidden agendas. One such subject was wearing a skirt so white it was see-through, and unnecessarily so, as it was already short enough to leave little to the imagination.
In the collegiate world, a warm day in winter coaxes men and women alike from their dens and dorms – stripped down, painted up and worked out – to size up prospects that, come spring, will shed their winter coats and become potential “mates.” It signals to the zoo animals that mating season is near, and that it’s almost time to put the solitary nights of winter-term hibernation behind them.
And why shouldn’t they? A little extra skin never hurt anyone, and the stresses poured on by classes, jobs and always having to wear mittens can weigh heavily. After all, the National Mental Health Association estimates that 25 percent of adults experience a mild form of seasonal affective disorder, and up to 5 percent experience it more severely. Light therapy, the most common form of treatment for SAD, can be had at the University Health Center for $20 per week. For some, though, I think it’s possible the only thing missing is a good ol’ fashioned romp between the sheets.
But please, folks, I don’t care if it’s 85 degrees without a cloud in the sky; Eugene is not Cabo and this is not spring break. Airing out your hormones doesn’t have to involve subjecting 20,000 fellow students to scenes that would make Bret Michaels and his bus full of silicone-stuffed groupies blush.
Instead, why not take part in the LGBTQA’s Sex Week? All week long the group and BLISS Collective staged events to encourage sex positivity on campus, educate and encourage discussion of safer sex, sexual identities, sexuality and sexual stereotypes. Tonight at 5 p.m. at the Multicultural Center, Suite 33, you can learn how to make your own flogger, because, as the LGBTQA Web site says, “Most people like pleasure. Some people like pain with their pleasure.” Or, if your tastes are a bit more vanilla, come after to watch “Shortbus” or “Zerophilia” at 6:30 p.m. in the same room.
And if you insist on turning campus into a meat market, remember to keep your North Face nearby; spring hasn’t sprung yet.
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Inspecting the campus meat market
Daily Emerald
February 19, 2009
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