And a good time was had by all

Thinking about my upcoming birthday and writing that list of 44 things last night has got me thinking about some of those good times I had when I was younger. In particular, my last two years of high school were particularly memorable.

First, a little context. I was a child who always had friends and playmates but was never "popular". I wasn't especially "shy" but was very insecure about myself socially and I seem to recall, looking back, that I probably tried too hard to "fit in" and be accepted by others, to the point where I guess other kids picked up on that insecure vibe I was putting out. Sometimes, although not very often, I got picked on by other kids.

I had a traumatic experience in the 8th grade where my best friend at the time, Michelle, apparently got suckered in by her own need for popularity and she dropped me for two other snotty little bitches named Pam and Robin. The threesome started behaving very meanly towards me and other kids jumped on the bandwagon and for several months I was in social hell every single day at school, being emotionally and physically bullied under the ignorant and unaware gaze of the teachers. Eventually things came to a head one day after Robin shoved me repeatedly while walking down the hall and I stopped, turned, and came within about an inch of knocking her flat (I can't believe I exercised that kind of self-control, because she really had it coming to her - and the shock on her face was priceless). I went home that day in hysterics and promptly boycotted going back to school until they agreed to change ALL of my classes so I could get away from those kids. It caused a bit of an uproar for a few days at the school - parents of the offending students called in, principal trying to convince me it would be ok, and me stubbornly refusing to go back without a new course schedule. I got my way, too, and spent the last month of school in different classes, except for my French class (Monsieur Morpeth was wonderful and also didn't tolerate crap in his class, and neither Pam nor Robin took French, so I knew I'd be "safe" there).

That was the end of that horrible chapter in my young life, but it had a lasting effect on me. I learned not to be so mealy-mouthed and "nice" all the time, in the face of systematic and unjustified abuse. I learned to stick up for myself (the principal told me to my face that if any of those kids laid a hand on me again I had his permission to flatten them. I never did, of course, but it was good to have an authority figure say it was OK). And when I went back to school the following year, things were calmer, even around the three girls that started it all. Ninth grade wasn't memorable in any way, but it wasn't terrible, either.

Well, when I got to high school, I continued to want to find some kind of social niche for myself. All kids just want to "belong" in some way. As a child, I had learned to play the piano but eventually dropped it. But as I got to high school I started noticing the band kids seemed to really have a lot of fun, and I liked music a lot. So I dusted off my music skills, first joining the "band front" (you know, all those waving flags you see in marching bands) in my junior year, and working my way into the marching band, jazz band and concert bands by relearning the piano and teaching myself to play the xylophone. (That's me, in photo at left, in the lower right corner, on my knees in the dirt with the rest of the percussion section, toting a very heavy xylophone. And I wonder why I have back problems.) I also got into the school chorus and into any kind of performance event I could, like school plays, charity events and all-county concerts. And I have to say, I was no "superstar" but I was pretty good at it.

It was probably the best decision I ever made as a teenager, getting into music, because I had a "group" to belong to and a lot of great friends. We had the time of our young lives in more ways than I have blog space to talk about it. Instead, here's a collage I made after I graduated in 1979, with some of my favorite friends and memories.

Need details? Going from the top down and left to right:

1. Singing with my best friends at our graduation ceremony
2. Nancy D. in the hat and shades. Below that are Angelo and Gige (short for "George") in drag for elementary school PTA fundraiser.
3. Dee Warner, my chorus teacher. She also directed our class play, "Bye, Bye Birdie" in which I played a small speaking role and she was a real hoot.
4. One of my favorite part of our marching band program -- everyone in a straight line (not easy to do!)
5. Me (with the 'fro) and Mr. Reish, my English teacher. Super guy, good teacher and knew how to handle the students without squashing them. More high school teachers should be that way.
6. Me and my friend Lecia with Ian Waka, our exchange student from New Zealand.
7. Nancy A.
8. Rusty in dorky cap and shades.
9. Back on the left: Rusty sleeping on band bus.
10. Dinosaur park in western Virginia on annual band trip: Karen, Me, Bonnie, Nancy D. and Gige hamming it up with the brontosaurus. Hard to believe Bonnie died some years ago of an aneurism while pregnant - she was always so full of life.
11. Dwight, sleeping on band bus. He is now my DENTIST!
12. Back to the left again: Blair, looking a little damp after dip in hotel pool. He was Bonnie's big brother, and I mean BIG brother - real teddy-bear type, tall and broad. I've seen him a few times in recent years... he looks just like Santa Claus now because his hair's gone gray and he has a full beard! Ironically he applied for a job as a mall Santa and got TURNED DOWN - what were they thinking, he's perfect for the job and wonderful with kids.
13. Chris in full band regalia as Drum Major for band.
14. Bugs Bunny, Rusty (sleeping on band bus -- is that ALL those guys ever did?) and Pink Elephant. Rusty and Gige won them for me at Hershey Park that day.
15. Just below that: Mr. Evans, another chorus teacher, cannonballing into the hotel pool.
16. Tammy, studying as usual and not looking too happy about it.
17. Mark Kollar, drenched after jumping in hotel pool fully clothed. Mark and I also were in the same dorm at college and continued to be good friends. He died in 1986 after driving his motorcycle drunk and crashing into a cement barrier.
18. More band trip hotel pool antics: Debbie Sall, and Nancy D (who I think got tossed into the pool by some of the guys).
19. Little round photo: Gige "dipping" me in a school production, disco-style (it was the 70's, after all).
20. Bottom row starts with: Debbie, Renee, Gige, a girl I don't remember, Irene, and Rusty, posing with the buses in Virginia (seems we spent a lot of time on buses).
21. Big group shot: Nancy (doing the rabbit ears behind Gige), Karen, Rusty (behind bubble gum), Pat (his hair is much shorter now), then Renee, Me, and Brian.
22. Gige riding solo on faux Dino.
23. Last: Gige (did he eat a blue popsicle? His tongue looks blue), Me and Rusty with more stuffed friends.

I haven't managed to keep up with most of the people I was friends with then, although I'm now living in the same house and town I grew up in. I run into Nancy D. every so often - she lives on the other side of town with her daughter. Lecia and I talk on the phone or get together on occasion, and through her I was able to reconnect with Blair. I hear from Patrick from time to time, too - married with kids and running a successful graphics design business (always knew he'd make it as a artist). And I see Dwight, in his dentist's chair, which makes going to the dentist an actual pleasure (and he's an excellent dentist, too) and while I'm in the chair I get the gossip on all the other classmates Dwight has heard from lately. There are some friends I wonder about often but never get to see or talk to... some who faded away without a word. And some I never wonder about. Sometimes we're all brought back together by circumstance: a high-school reunion, or tragically, as in the suicide of our friend Scott about three years ago, where in a very weird way it felt like old times, complete with the presence of our favorite teacher and mentor, band director Bill Seiple who left teaching in 1981 to enter the ministry -- with one horrible, glaring exception: we were standing in a funeral parlor and sitting in a church, grieving the loss of our old friend.

For the most part, though, I'd say a good time was definitely had by all... and especially by me. After getting off to a rocky start in high school, it feels good to be able to look back down Memory Lane and find so much GOOD, so many wonderful happy memories.

And whenever one of my bad knees acts up, I can say with a tone of the same pride and false humility as every broken down, washed out high school football jock: "Oh, it's just an old BAND injury, you know. It doesn't hurt. Much."