It’s February vacation, a week-long holiday for schoolchildren that is especial to Massachusetts. I’ve never heard a satisfying justification for February vacation. “Kids need time to be kids,” says a co-worker. “You know, do other things aside from school.” I wholeheartedly agree that children should not be overly-confined to classroom, but isn’t that what Winter vacation was for, only 6 weeks ago? Or Spring vacation, only 6 weeks away? And what about the 3-month long Summer vacation? Come on Massachusetts, isn’t February vacation just an excuse to take the family skiing?
Perhaps my unfavorable opinion of February vacation is influenced by the hordes of teenagers who swamp Boston during this week, wearing their most fashionable gear and just generally acting like children in an urban playground. I see them piling into train cars, all the girls talking in giggles, all the boys talking in grunts. I’m so bothered by their sheer youth.
On my evening commute:
“I, like, so don’t want you to go over there tonight,” a teenaged girl with shiny long straight brown hair, tight jeans, and super-bulky Uggs confides to her slightly-superiorly preened clone.
“I know, but, like, it’ll be okay,” the Alpha girl says.
Beta sighs. “I just don’t want you to be at that apartment without me. Like, something really really bad could happen, like last time. I’m going to be so worried about you all night.”
Alpha is not having it. “Last time was totally different. Like, I’ll be okay, I swear” she says.
Beta sighs, again. “God, I’m going to be so worried. Just remember, I have my car, so if anything, anything goes wrong, please call me! Please, please, please call me! And if I’m not too drunk, I’ll totally come pick you up.”
