It’s Break Time and PS, They Love You

Three carefully chosen words were all David Triplitt needed to explain why he was spending Easter Break beneath the cloudless skies of Palm Springs.

“Babes in G-strings,” the Cal State Fresno senior said matter-of-factly. “Babes in G-strings.”

Triplitt, 23, rolled into town with three fraternity buddies Saturday night. After snagging a single room at “some dive” on the edge of town, the exam-weary students hit the streets, searching--like swarms of other restless young men--for scantily clad companions.

There seemed no lack of opportunity, judging by the stream of tanned bodies clogging Palm Springs’ main thoroughfare, Palm Canyon Drive, well past midnight. But somehow, the Fresno men had trouble connecting.

“We went to Winners (a bar deemed “party central” by the experts), but we were bummed,” said Steve Giacomini, 22, a physical therapy major. “Too many guys.”

By noon Sunday, the Central Valley dudes were hung over, hiding behind sunglasses and losing interest fast. As they sat on a curb, catching some midday rays, there was talk of a detour to San Diego. “Let’s road-trip it,” Brian To, 22, finally suggested, spurring his Lambda Chi Alpha brothers into action. “Man, it was better last year.”

Spring Break, 1990, began in earnest over the weekend. As a small army of wary but seemingly good-natured police looked on, thousands of vacationing students invaded Palm Springs to kick up their heels under the hot desert sun.

Their presence completely transformed this normally peaceful desert city. Hoots, whistles, sirens and the whine of motorcycle engines filled the air from dusk nearly through dawn. Traffic was bumper to bumper for miles along the city’s two major arteries.

Despite such inconveniences, city officials declared themselves relatively pleased with the conduct of this season’s young visitors.

“We have an overabundance of kids in town, but that was expected,” said City Councilwoman Sharon Apfelbaum, who strolled downtown streets periodically through the weekend to survey the scene. “We’ve had no extraordinary problems. It seems our heightened law enforcement presence is keeping the kids in line.”

Palm Springs police, augmented by military authorities from the U.S. Marine Corps base at Twentynine Palms and 60 officers on loan from other law enforcement agencies, were indeed visible. After sunset Saturday, there were no fewer than six foot-patrol officers stationed on each block downtown.

Officers had made nearly 500 arrests by nightfall Sunday and had issued more than 1,200 citations.

“But the important thing is we’ve had no major incidents or injuries,” Police Lt. Lee Weigel said.

In addition to keeping police busy, the students’ presence provided opportunities for several groups with markedly different objectives.

Playboy magazine was on hand, interviewing bikinied females for a special project, “The Women of Spring Break.”

Vying for the same audience was the Desert AIDS Project, whose volunteers handed out condoms along with “safe sex” user instructions.

The National Youth Hotline--a service for runaways--was in town as well, providing counseling and other services as part of its mission to “Help, Not Hassle” young people.

Downtown merchants, meanwhile, seemed divided over whether Spring Break was a blessing or a curse.

One older woman grumbled loudly as she hosed the sidewalk in front of a card shop on Palm Canyon Drive. Some drunken reveler, it seems, had deposited his partially digested dinner on the pavement the night before.

“Why don’t they go pick on someone else?” said the woman, who declined to give her name.

But others seemed downright enthused about the spectacle. Leon Lieberman owns Grandma’s Fudge Shop, and 1990 marks his 15th Spring Break.

“I love it. It’s life,” a grinning Lieberman said Sunday as he whipped up a batch of macadamia nut glaze while keeping one eye fixed on the tide of humanity passing by his front window.

“Everybody’s got to let off steam, have some R&R.; My philosophy,” Lieberman said, “is as long as nobody gets hurt, what’s the harm?”

Besides, he added mischievously as a pair of fluffy-haired blondes passed and smiled, “I’ve got a hidden camera recording the whole thing.”

Times staff writer Ted Johnson contributed to this report.