Loyd and the Order of the Arrow

This blog is about my life and the things that I have experienced. However, I am now going to tell about something my brother Loyd had to endure because it feels like something that could have happened to me.

I did not continue with Boy Scouts after finishing up with Cub Scouts in the fifth grade. I did get involved with the Law Enforcement Explorers, which is a branch of the Boy Scouts of America, but I didn't feel like I was cut out to be an actual Boy Scout.

Loyd did stay with Boy Scouts. He was hoping to become an Eagle Scout like the boy across the street we were friends with. Loyd actually went so far as to plan his big Eagle Scout project. Loyd worked hard to earn his badges. One of the most important ones that he had to acquire was the Order of the Arrow. I think this was supposed to lead to the next steps toward him becoming an Eagle Scout.

In order to earn the Order of the Arrow, he had to spend a weekend at the Boy Scout camp, which was located about an hour and a half from Artesia. There were certain things he was supposed to take and he packed accordingly. The ritual required to earn the badge appeared to consist of constant hazing between Friday night and Sunday morning by the counselors, who were scouts of a higher rank.

But that was nothing compared to what happened when it was over. The participants completed all their tasks Sunday morning and were told they would receive their Order of the Arrow badge at the ceremony, which was scheduled in one hour. They were able to just goof off and have fun for the next hour. Loyd went off into the woods by himself. He sat down in the grass and just conked out from exhaustion.

He woke up a couple of hours later. He rushed over the camp. Everyone appeared to be gone except for the counselors. He apologized for being late and missing the ceremony.

"Yeah, we wondered why we had an extra badge to hand out."

"Well, can you go ahead and give me the badge?"

"No, we can't do that. You'll have to come back next year and do all this over again."

"Why? I already did everything to earn the badge this weekend!"

"Because the Boy Scout rules say we can only give out the badge at the Order of the Arrow ceremony, and you weren't at the ceremony."

"But I was dead tired from everything that happened."

"I'm sorry, but you were supposed to be at the ceremony."

"Well, I thought the ceremony was going to be at 3:00."

"No, 3:00 is the time we have to leave the camp. The ceremony was scheduled at 11:00 and we told you to come back in an hour."

"NO! I told my parents to show up and pick me up at 3:00! You mean I have to wait here for three hours?"

"Not unless you can get a ride."

It was at this point that Loyd made a collect call to the house. Mom and Dad had already left because they wanted to spend some time in the forest before picking up Loyd. I was home, so I got the call.

"Fayd! Have Mom and Dad left yet?"

"Yeah, they left awhile ago. They're going to get you at 3:00."

"Well, I need you to drive up here and get me right now!"

"I'm not going to do that! Wait for Mom and Dad. They'll be there in three hours."

"Well, I'm just going to find another way home."

"No, Loyd! You'd better wait for Mom and Dad or they're going to get mad!"

He hung up the phone. About an hour and a half later, he showed up at the house. There was one person at the camp who hadn't left yet and was on their way to Artesia to give him a ride. He told me about everything that happened to him during the camp. Now, all he had to do was wait for our parents to arrive.

At 4:30, Mom and Dad came home. The first thing they asked was "WHERE'S LOYD?" They yelled at him for an hour. They were mad because he should have known when it was going to be over and that he should have waited for them to come get him. I don't think he ever got a chance to tell them about all the hazing and how he didn't get his badge.

Loyd stopped being a Boy Scout after that, and that was really a shame because he really needed that sense of accomplishment in his life at that point. I'm pretty certain that counselor was lying when he brought up the "Boy Scout Rules." It's likely that the counselor hadn't gotten enough hazing out of his system and decided to just be a jerk.

This is the thing that gets me: The counselors should have at least taken some kind of roll call at the ceremony. If they had, they would have realized that Loyd was missing and should have gone out looking for him. He was in the forest where bad things could happen and the fact that they didn't even bother to worry about his absence would have made them liable if something did go wrong. If he had broken his leg and they just stranded him there, they would have had to pay a lot more than the cost of a badge.

I think that if Loyd had waited for Mom and Dad to show up, Dad probably would have gotten it in his head that he could have sued the Boy Scouts. The lawsuit likely never would have gone to court and they would have just given Loyd the Order of the Arrow badge as a settlement. This would have helped Loyd continue on his path to being an Eagle Scout.

A few years ago, I suggested to Loyd that he write a letter to the Boy Scouts of America, tell them what happened and they would probably give him his badge. He didn't want to bother with that.

It certainly makes me glad I didn't go on to become a Boy Scout.

The return of the road trip (for some, but not all)

I wrote about how after my grandfather died in the summer of 1978, an unintended consequence was that my family stopped taking the summer road trips. I did miss those opportunities to see parts of the country that were far distances from me. They made me realize there was a world outside Artesia and I didn't have to stay put in one place for the rest of my life.

This meant that we didn't go anywhere in the summers of 1979 and 1980, even though we could have. I don't know why we didn't make the trips, but they just didn't occur. (However, I did get to go to the International Theatre Arts Conference in Muncie, IN the summer of 1980 with a group that did not include my family.)

However, in the summer of 1981, I guess Dad decided he was ready for an adventure and without any announcement beforehand, decided to take Loyd on a road trip without me or Mom. I couldn't go because of my two jobs. I probably could have gotten away from the Racquet Club, but there was no way Mr. E would let me spontaneously take off. Mom couldn't go because they were not about to leave me alone in the house for two weeks. I mean, a weekend was fine, but I would have probably gotten killed if left alone for that amount of time. Besides, I think Dad liked the idea of a road trip better if Mom wasn't there to nag the whole time.

In this video, I tried to explain how Loyd, as a child, possibly perceived how I got to be the oldest and how much he resented it. Loyd actually left a comment on the video, saying that the issue was really that I would get to go do things, like hang out with friends and go to school, while he was left behind. When Dad took off with Loyd, I experienced what that probably felt like as I so much wanted to be a part of that. Not getting to go because of work meant that I was growing up and I would likely never get to do anything like that again.

Dad also did this for the summer of 1982 and 1983. I had gotten to go on a long two week trip almost on my own after I graduated and returned to work at the Racquet Club, and I went to the summer session at college the next year, so again, I was not asked to join Dad and Loyd on their bonding trip.

I guess what hurt the most was that Dad didn't even think to ask me if I wanted to go. I'm guessing he decided that what Loyd needed at this point in his life was a stronger connection with him and thought this was the best way to do it. He probably felt that I didn't really need that in my life as I was already on the right track dealing with school and two jobs. But he was wrong. I really felt like I missed out on a lot there and it gave me just another reason to resent going to work, especially at Main Place.

It really is time with my father that I feel like I missed out on. I hope Loyd appreciates that he got something that I didn't.

Boys State

I got to go to Boys State in New Mexico in the summer of 1981. The conference is designed to teach student leaders about the government and political process. Actually, it worked about as well as any program that involves a bunch of boys without their parents or any girls around.

At Artesia High School, participants were selected by the students. An election was held, like for Student Council. However, the year I went to Boys State, we didn't have enough boys sign up, so we all got to go. That was a good thing considering I didn't get re-elected to Student Council.

Boys State used to be held at the New Mexico Military Institute every year in Roswell. That meant we didn't have very far to travel. I felt sorry for those who had to come from other parts of the state, including Albuquerque, Santa Fe and Farmington.

Our group from Artesia arrived, checked in and got our T-shirts. We put them on and posed with this horse statue in front of the Sally Port. This was the standard routine for participants every year. After that, we picked up our bags and went to where we each were assigned to go.

The quadrant was split up in four "counties." Each county had two "cities" in them, so there were eight cities. I feel terrible because as I was writing this, I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the "city" in which I resided. I just remember it was on the north end of the quadrant on the left side. I do remember that our county was called "Vargas."

I walked to my city straight from the Sally Port. I arrived to meet the counselors, who were sitting and waiting for everyone to arrive. As I approached them, one of them said, "You're not supposed to be walking on the grass!" I said, "Oh, I'm sorry." Then the other said, "You can't wear that cap!" I thought that this was not a good start. It seemed like that was all they did when anyone arrived was to yell at them to stay off the grass and not wear caps. You'd think they'd give us a list of rules ahead of time so the counselors wouldn't have to make such a bad first impression. They were otherwise nice guys.

And this was probably the number one problem I had with Boys State (and believe me, there were some close seconds): Because it was at the Military Institute, we were all treated like cadets. We had to march in formation and adhere to the rules of the Institute even though class was not in session. Doing some research, they have since moved the event's location to the campus of Eastern New Mexico University in Portales, where I went to college. I can only hope that they dropped the military aspect after moving there.

My counselors told me which room was mine. It was on the second floor. My roommate was this guy from Clovis. He was an Alpha Male. We got along pretty well. I noticed that he had an invitation to be listed in Who's Who Among American High School Students. I wondered what he did that was so special to get that invitation. Then, when I looked in my packet, I saw that I also had an invitation, and it was to be a part of the listing for my junior year. This was great news! I had been wondering how to get listed in there.

We were already put into two political parties, separated by the color on our name tags. The occupants of each room were from different parties. The first afternoon, each city held party meetings to determine who would run for Mayor and City Council. I decided to run for City Council. There were a few of us running for the office and I was lucky enough to get selected for the four slots from our party.

We then held a city meeting to hold the election. My roommate was running for Mayor from the other party. We each got up and made our pitches to the members of the city. My problem was that I was called last to do my presentation for City Council and everybody else had already said all the good stuff. I wasn't left with much material. I didn't get elected. However, I would be able to run for a County or State office if I wanted.

My roommate lost the Mayor's race to the person from the party I belonged to. However, my roommate later told me that he had actually won the race, but the votes were miscounted. I guess he had to decide whether or not he was going to make an issue out of it, which he didn't.

The rest of the first day was cool. We just hung around the quadrant. Guys were meeting other guys and we were enjoying the chance for male bonding and community. I walked all over the quadrant and enjoyed the cool air as the rain was starting to sprinkle.

The next day, all the City Councils met and came up with a list of laws for each city. I don't know why or how this happened, but EVERY single city passed a law making it ILLEGAL for anyone from any other city to set foot in another city. That amazing feeling of community I experienced the first day had completely vanished. People were actually breaking out into fist fights if someone crossed a border. I myself got arrested and put in "jail." This was worse than high school. The really bad part is that this state of laws lasted for the next two days. Eventually, the cities relaxed those laws and we were able to walk about freely again.

When I ran for the County position, a debate was held. One of the questions asked by someone in the audience was what sort of legislation we would introduce. I talked about how I wanted to prevent future Boys States from passing laws that make it illegal to go into each others' towns. I still did not get elected.

I had one more shot. I could not run for state office, but I could run for state party leader. A few of us were running for the position. Several people were aware that the party leaders often got nominated to go to Boys Nation. I got up and started off really good. I got quite a few laughs during the first part of my spiel. However, I ran out of stuff to say and was stuck there with long silences. I should have stopped when I was ahead. However, the guy who won was very charismatic. I really didn't stand a chance.

I didn't really get to do much the remainder of the week. I was subjected to bullying by a couple of twerps. What else is new? I was just glad that I would likely never have to run into them again for the rest of my life.

Friday night, there was a talent show. I decided to play the piano and tell a few jokes, but in the middle of my act, I was forced off the stage by some of the other guys. Later on in the show, a group of guys did this skit that involved someone giving a description of a suspect to a sketch artist. I didn't realize it at the time, but that sketch artist would go on to become one of my all-time best friends after I met him my freshman year of college. His name is Chud and you will learn more about him much later.

So, Boys State just felt like high school. It's hard to believe that most of these guys were supposed to be the leaders of today. I don't think that happened for most of them.

As for my Boys State roommate, I ran into him once more the next year. He was in the choir at Clovis High School and was at Festival. I told him hi. He said, "Oh, I met you at Boys State." He had completely forgotten that we were roommates. It kind of ticked me off. That was the last time I ever saw him. Now, I'm not absolutely certain, but it appears that he has since died. It may have been before 2000 because I was not able to find any information about his death on-line. I only found out about his passing in his grandmother's obituary and he was listed as someone who had preceded her in death.

Job #2: Main Place Era (1981 - 1982), Part 2

Monday, I posted about how I got hired to work at two clothing stores owned by Mr. E. I had no idea at the time the negative impact this job was going to have on my life.

A week after school let out for the summer, I got to go to Boys State. (More on that in a future post.) After I returned a week later, Mom told me that Mr. E was not very happy with my job performance and was thinking about firing me. She told me that getting fired was the worst thing I could have happen to me. She said she had never gotten fired from a job in her life, and if I got fired, no one would ever want to hire me.

Years later, I would find out just how WRONG she was. If she had ever gotten fired from a job, she would have known it wasn't that big a deal. I truly wished I had realized that at the time and allowed myself to get fired. It wasn't like I didn't already have a job. I was still working at the Racquet Club. Mom just didn't want me to get fired because she pulled strings to get me that job and it would have been a bad reflection on her if I'd lost that job.

When I went to work the next day, he had a talk with me. He didn't like me missing work for a week to go to Boys State. (What?) He didn't like me taking a break during a two-hour shift (which he had told me I could do when he hired me). He felt like I was being lazy and not getting the vacuuming done in an efficient manner (which, as I explained yesterday, practically could not be done quickly because there were always customers in the store).

With me making less than minimum wage, this really was not an ideal place for me to be working. My Mom made me feel like I had to make the best of it and stick with the job. So that's what I did.

It turned out to be something I regretted. Despite my dark passage my junior year, I had a blast during that time in my life because I was able to run around after school and do stuff. Rushing to work after school cut down on my ability take part in a lot of the activities that I enjoyed. It prevented me from getting bigger parts in plays and the choir's musical because I wasn't able to show up for the audition. When our choir went to Festival, I had to drive there and back alone in my car because Mr. E wouldn't let me have the day off. I wasn't able to socialize as much as I did the previous year. Also, working before and after school made my day 11 1/2 hours long. That really was too much for a 17-year-old boy to handle.

Even though I was making money, all I would do was spend it. I had a pretty severe arcade video game habit that summer. It was so bad that one month, I actually spent more money than I earned. I was shocked when I got that bank statement. I realized I had a problem, but didn't really want to deal with the consequences.

Add to this that Mr. E just was not a very good boss. There was one time when, without any warning, he made me stay after work to clean up the men's store room where he was clearing out space. (I got paid for that time, but I didn't have an opportunity to tell my family where I was or when I was going to be home.)

And there was one time when he made me work off the clock. Every year, the music boosters held a cake walk in the middle of the street next to the store. It took place on a Saturday. He told me to come in on Sunday and clean the wall. I would not get paid. Mr. E also didn't like that I was in Choir (although he always thought I was in Band) and that it sometimes took me away from work. Dad came and helped me out with that. We worked for three hours cleaning that wall on Sunday. We thought we did a good job. However, when I was at work the next day, this woman came up to me. She was part of the family that owned the building that Main Place was a part of. All she did was gripe about the lousy job I did cleaning the wall. She kept running her finger along the wall and showing me the dirt that rubbed off. She took me away from my store work to rant about the wall for 15 minutes. She told me I had to do it all over.

I went in and told Mr. E what happened. This was probably the only time he came to my aid. I don't know if he talked to her or what, but I didn't have to clean the wall over again.

Every year, the store does inventory on a Monday. He told me on Saturday that I didn't have to come in that Monday. However, Monday came and I forgot and showed up at the store. I walked up to the front door and saw all the employees counting stock. I then remembered that I didn't need to be there and turned around. However, Mr. E saw me and called me to come inside to do some work. I should have kept walking.

Soon after I graduated from high school, I had made plans to go the International Theatre Arts Conference in Muncie, IN and after that, I was going to the DECA National Conference in Chicago. I asked Mr. E if he wanted me to go ahead and quit before I did those. He said it would be a pretty good idea. That was a rare good day for me.

The rest of the summer, I just had to worry about working at the Racquet Club and getting ready for college. I was relieved that I did not have to spend in misery under the employ of Mr. E.

A couple of years later, I was in college. I received a copy of the Artesia Daily News in my mailbox every day. One day, on the Letters to the Editor page, someone had written in about an incident that took place at a clothing store downtown, but did not mention which one. Apparently, the writer was there with her small child. A woman was decorating the window with balloons. She gave the child one of the balloons. When the writer tried to leave the store, she was told that she needed to pay for the balloon. She blasted the store for doing that when the employee had been so kind. A few days later, the woman doing the decorating wrote a letter to the paper and explained that the child was bothering her and she gave her the balloon so she would go away. The woman said that the writer should have been keeping an eye on her child and not let her bother people who were trying to do their work. I went home that weekend. I noticed that none of the clothing stores downtown had any balloons in their displays. I have a feeling it was Main Place because the tone of the second letter sounded very much like the person who did the displays there.

I would continue to run into Mr. E from time to time over the next few years when I went home. He moved Main Place across the street and got rid of the Mr. E's store. He eventually stopped running the business.

But as bad as that job was, it was far from being the worst place I ever worked. You'll see that much later on.

Is somebody reading all my blog posts?

I have seen unusual activity on my blog analytics today. On a normal day, I'm lucky if I get around 25 views. As of 2:10pm on 06/24/14, there have more than 100 views of my posts. Looking at the breakdowns, it looks like someone is actually reading all of my posts, and they appear to be going in chronological order.

So, whoever you are, if you make it this far today, I'd certainly like to know what you think. Please feel free to leave a comment below.

Thanks for reading.

You can't read in the dark!

This is an issue I encountered in the 1970s that would likely no longer exist today.



However, I do have to acknowledge that today, we would probably all be fighting over who gets to charge their cell phones and tablets.

Job #2 Main Place Era (1981 - 1982), Part 1

Toward the end of the school year, my Mom thought that it was not enough that I was working only one job. It had to do with her wanting (and practically forcing) me to take her Distributive Education class my senior year. I guess a big part of the class is working and students in the program were required to work 15 hours a week. I only worked 10 hours a week at the Racquet and Health Club and that was not going to cut it. So, she arranged for me to get hired at this clothing store called Main Place, which was located in downtown Artesia.

I had been familiar with Main Place since I was a child. Mom took Loyd and me there to shop for clothes every once in a while before I was a teenager. At some point, the owner leased out the space next door. He made Main Place a women's clothing store and turned the store next door into a men's clothing store, calling it "Mr. E's," which was the first initial of his last name.

The previous two years, Mom had Distributive Education students working there and they HATED it. The number one problem was that, during that time in the State of New Mexico, employers were not required to pay the full minimum wage to anyone under the age of 18. Mr E took full advantage of this and paid 50 cents an hour less. The number two problem was Mr. E himself. He was the kind of boss who seemed to get kicks out of getting angry at his employees. If one thing went wrong, he would start the yelling.

Mom was aware of all this and she still wanted me to work there. A couple of weeks before the end of the school year, she had me go to Main Place and talk to Mr. E after school on a Friday afternoon. The first thing he did was make me fill out an application. I first I thought, "Oh, I'm not getting the job." Several months earlier, before I had gotten the job at the Racquet Club, I had gone around to a few businesses and applied for jobs. I filled out an application at every one of them and not one of them hired me. I got the job at the Racquet Club WITHOUT having to fill out an application. However, Mr E told me I had the job.

I was expecting him to ask me to start in a couple of weeks, so I could finish the rest of the school year. After all, I didn't start working at the Racquet Club until a couple of weeks after they told me I was hired. However, Mr. E told me I was going to start the next day, Saturday. I was to show up at 9am. I had planned stuff for Saturday, but it looked like I wasn't going to get to do that.

I came in the next day and he took me around and introduced me to everyone who worked there. It was mostly sales staff. They were all females in Main Place and there were two men who worked at Mr. E. The women ranged in age from 21 to 60. (One of the women was Wend's mother.)

The first thing I had to do was read the new employee handbook. Mr. E had recorded a cassette in which he read the handbook and I just followed along. The one thing I remember most about the handbook was that no employee was permitted to discuss their pay with another employee. That was grounds for termination. Since then, at every place I have worked, I have never discussed my pay with another employee. Not that any other employer makes it grounds for termination, but I've found it's best not to even bring the topic up. (However, I should note that some of the saleswomen were frequently discussing their paychecks when the boss wasn't around.)

My job was basically being a janitor. I had to go around and clean the mirrors, clean the display windows, clean the toilets and sinks, vacuum the carpets, sweep the floors, you name it. I also had to straighten out the stock rooms. It was just cleaning the whole time I was there. Monday through Friday, it was just vacuuming the floors, cleaning the mirrors and minor details here and there. But this had to be done at both stores, and there were a LOT of mirrors.

I didn't have a problem with doing all the cleaning. The problem was that Mr. E made it sound like I would have a half-hour between the end of school every day (which ended at 3:30pm) to run around before coming in at 4pm. The store closed at 5:30pm. He seemed to think everything could be done in 90 minutes and I would even have time for a break in the middle there. Really, it couldn't be done. I tried. It just wasn't happening, even if I didn't take my break. This meant I had to come to the store right after school and start work at 3:45pm. I still did not get my break.

One of the problems with vacuuming the floor that late in the afternoon is that there were always customers around. I could not vacuum where there were customers, so I would have to vacuum elsewhere. This wasn't a problem at the men's store, but it was always a problem at the women's. You're probably thinking that I could have vacuumed after the store closed at 5:30pm. That was not an option. Mr. E wanted everyone, customers and employees, out by 5:30pm. That's when HE wanted to leave.

So this is the set up for Part Two, which will appear on Wednesday. You can already tell that this is not going to be a joyride.

A challenging door

A lot of effort went into this video. You'd better watch it!



I have actually been to peoples' manufactured homes in which they hadn't gotten around to building steps for all their doors. They stayed that way for years.

The Prom, Part 2

Yesterday, I went into detail about the drawn-out process of getting a date to the prom my junior year. Today, I'll fill you in on everything that happened the day of the prom.

In the morning, Mom showed me where my date Rosed lived. We got in my car and drove South of Artesia. There's no actual street addresses out there, which was about seven miles outside of town. Mom had to show me where to turn and where Rosed's house was located. It seemed pretty straightforward.

On the way home, Mom was telling me how to behave on the date. I guess she got it in her head that Rosed and I were going to become an item, but as I mentioned yesterday, I did not see Rosed as anything other than a girl I was friendly with. Mom told me that after I took Rosed home, I had to kiss her. There was no way that was going to happen.

I had been asked by the prom committee to set up some lighting for the prom. I went to the auditorium, got a few light fixtures and a light pole and brought them to the school's commons area, where the prom was taking place. Other people were busy setting up decorations. They wanted me to light up these cloud formations they had hanging from the ceiling. I was able to put the lights in place and illuminate the clouds. I was rather proud of the way the lights came out.

Then the band arrived. It consisted of three guys and one female vocalist. I remember that her face was sunburned. They were from Lubbock, TX. A stage had been set up for the band, but when the drummer started putting his kit together, it was apparent that there was not enough space for the rest of the band. They were going to have to play and sing on the floor. I helped them put their sound system together.

I went home and got ready for the prom. Mom and Dad had gone to the senior banquet. I don't remember where Loyd was, but he wasn't in the house when I was getting ready. I guess he was spending the night at a friend's house.

I took a shower and thoroughly dried my hair. It took me a half hour to put the tux on, piece by piece. (I don't think the tux I wore when I got married was that complicated.) Earlier in the year, Mom had acquired a 1971 MG. It was a real nifty sports car. She let me use it to go to prom.

The time had come for me to drive to pick up Rosed. I got in the car and started driving. It was already dark. I turned where I thought I was supposed to turn and parked in front of the house. Some people came out and I asked thme if Rosed was ready. They didn't know what I was talking about. I knew I was at the wrong house. I had turned too early. I had to drive another mile to find Rosed's house. I was relieved when I got out and found I was at the right location.

She was still getting ready after coming home from the banquet. She came out and her parents took the obiligatory photos. Then we went outside to the car. Her parents were impressed with the vehicle. The mother said she wished they could have taken photos of the car, but it was too dark outside.

We started driving toward the high school. On the way there, Rosed told me that her cousin was going to be at the prom, and he didn't have a date, so it was very likely that he would be dancing with her a few times. I didn't have a problem with that. When we arrived, the first thing we did was run into her cousin. He had already managed to pick up on one of the girls who came without a date. He had his arm around her and they appeared to be having a good time. He wasn't going to need those dances with Rosed after all.

The second thing that happened was that I noticed the clouds on the ceiling were not illuminated. Apparently, the band brought in more equipment and unplugged my lights. THAT WAS TWO HOURS OF HARD WORK WASTED! Really, I was angry that this was MY contribution to the prom and they took that away from me. I felt like going up, unplugging the band and plugging my lights back in, but that would have just made everyone mad at me.

Speaking of the band, I don't know whose idea it was to hire them, but they were not the ideal group for a prom. They mostly did rock covers, knew very little country and ALMOST NO SLOW SONGS! I remember one of the slow songs they did was "Stairway to Heaven," and they managed to keep the beat slow through the whole song.

I remember they did "Cotton-Eyed Joe." That was probably the only time all night that I danced with someone else besides Rosed. It was this girl named Celd, who was cute, but very short. She didn't know the dance, but I did and I taught it to her. (I learned it during square dancing lessons. Who knew that was going to come in handy?)

The prom came to an end, but the night didn't. There was an after-prom party at the Elks Lodge. It was designed to keep the students from going out and getting a motel room. One of the things they were going to do was serve breakfast at 4am.

The after-prom party wasn't going to be as fancy, so Rosed and I decided to change clothes before going to the Elks Lodge. I took her home first and then we went to my house. I think it took me longer to change than her because I had to carefully hang everything up. She probably just took off her dress and threw it on the bed.

I think everybody had a better time at the after-prom party because they had hired a country band for us to dance to. Rosed got tired around 2am and asked me to drive her back home. As expected, I did NOT kiss her goodnight after I dropped her off.

I decided to go back to the after-prom party so I could score that free breakfast. But something strange happened when I was driving back. About a mile before I got into town, I could see a police car behind me. The cars' lights never flashed on, but it kept up my pace without passing me. I knew I was driving under the limit, so I started wondering if they were following me. When I turned left off the highway to get to the Elks Lodge, the police also turned left, but again, they did not flash their lights. I parked my car outside the lodge, got out and started to walk to the door. I then heard someone yelling to get my attention. The police car had parked right behind my car. The officer told me that someone had reported that a car that looked like mine had run someone off the road. I told him it wasn't me. The officer just left. I have a feeling the police were aware it was prom night and were hoping to catch a few students who had been drinking. I probably didn't display any obvious signs that I had been drinking when they talked to me, although I'm pretty certain I wasn't swerving while I was driving, either.

There were several people who hung around for the breakfast. I ate mine and then I went home. Sunday afternoon, I went to help take all the prom decorations down, and put away the lighting equipment that wound up not getting used.

I didn't go to prom my senior year. After everything I went through for my junior year, I knew I would likely not be able to get anyone to go with me. I just went to the senior banquet and to the after-prom party. (I wanted to score that free breakfast again.) It was not as eventful as the previous year.

(I know that the prom my senior year did not feature a live band. They just hired a DJ. I'm pretty certain they didn't have to worry about a lack of slow songs.)

The last I heard about Rosed was a few years ago. Mom told me that at the time, she was getting divorced from her husband. They had been living in Gilroy, which is about 30 miles south of where I live. I had no idea. Mom said that they were having to sell their house, which was worth about $250,000. But that's California real estate for you. I have no idea what has happened to her since then.

I'm glad I did go to the prom and have that experience, just so I could write about it here.

The Prom, Part 1

So, this was the big event of the spring season before school let out for the year. It was the prom. I'd seen a lot of movies about wacky things that take place during proms. I figured the one we would have at Artesia High School would not be that eventful. I was partially right.

At my school, the junior class did all the organizing and decorating for the prom. They are also responsible for sending out the invitations for the seniors to come to the prom.

As you are aware, I had no girlfriend and no potential for a girlfriend my junior year. This meant that if I wanted to go to the prom, I would need to ask someone I didn't really have a romantic interest in. I sort of already figured my chances at actual romance at prom were nil, but I definitely wanted to go and did not wish to go alone. That really would have made me look like a loser.

So I called a few girls I was friendly with (including one girl I thought for sure would say yes) and they all politely turned me down, saying they weren't planning on going. (And they were telling the truth. None of the girls I asked went to the prom.) Then I asked this one girl in Drama class, whom I had known since first grade. I wasn't aware of this, but she was dating this other guy in Drama class. I was completely oblivious to this. That was embarassing, made even worse because they told the rest of the Drama class about it.

However, she came up to me later and said her cousin was going to be in town that weekend and wanted to attend the prom. She asked me if I would be her cousin's date. She showed me her photo. I didn't look at the picture for very long, but I remember she had medium length blonde hair with a few curls. She was rather cute, but her eyes were crossed. I didn't really see that as a deterrent. I figured it was better than dealing with more rejection.

So, I had a date. That meant I could stop concentrating on asking out girls and go about renting a tuxedo. I went tuxedo shopping with Mom there in Artesia. We found a decent light grey-colored tux that cost $200 to rent. What was going to happen with my date is I was going to take her out to dinner with my classmates. Mom came up with this whole list of stuff I needed to do to act properly when at dinner, especially since I didn't want to spill anything on the tux. She acted like I had no idea how to behave at a dinner table. I guess she was afraid that my date was someone I could possibly get married to and leaving a bad impression with my etiquette was likely going to turn her off before we even hit the dance floor.

A few days before the prom, my classmate had bad news for me. Her cousin didn't feel well and wasn't going to be able to come. That hurt me so bad. I was such a loser that some girl I had never met got sick at the idea of going to prom with me. Even worse, that meant I had no date for the prom and we had already paid to rent the tux. That pretty much committed me to going, even if I had to go alone.

As I've mentioned before, I never wanted my mother to choose the girls I dated. However, this was a desperate situation in which I had no choice but to relent. There was this girl in Mom's Distributive Education class. Her name was Rosed. She was a senior. I think she hadn't actually planned to go to the prom and had somehow mentioned this to my Mom. I think Mom told her I didn't have a date. Rosed had worn a nice dress during the DECA Sweetheart Pageant that she had gotten to keep. It could work as a prom dress. I now had an actual date to the prom.

Rosed was a very nice Hispanic girl and she was very smart. She was a little overweight, but was actually kind of cute. However, I never saw her like that. I had known her since I was in the sixth grade. She was in the musical the choir did that year. She played my mom. (That means I was going to be taking my mom to the prom. Ha ha! That cracks me up! I only just realized that after 33 years.)

One of the good things about Rosed is that I would not have to take her out to dinner before the prom. She was going to go to the senior banquet. I only had to concentrate on getting her to the prom and the after prom party at the Elks Lodge.

As befitting a loser, it was an evening with a couple of mishaps. I'll go into more detail about them tomorrow.

Feeling like a kid again!

I sometimes think I am never going to fully grow up.



Even though I am a father, I still do not consider myself an adult.

Friend Zone #2: Janz

Janz was a girl I had seen around Artesia High School when I was a sophomore. I didn't really take much notice of her because I rarely ever saw her. I didn't even know her name at the time.

The first time I was actually aware of her name was when I had seen the yearbook from 1978-79, which was the year before I attended high school. Among the sophomore pictures was this one girl, whose photo appeared to be really out of focus. I thought it was odd and figured that since I had never seen her around the school, that she didn't attend anymore. I remember my Tennis teacher talking about her from the year before, but he never mentioned if she was still a student.

At the beginning of the next school year, I was checking in the seniors for registration. This one girl came up and gave me her name. It was the same name as the girl with the out-of-focus picture. I looked up and saw her and realized I had seen her several times before during my sophomore year. I just never made the connection because she did not look like her photo. She had long brown hair, brown eyes and porcelain skin. I immediately realized how beautiful she was and instantly became smitten.

Unfortunately, I didn't have any classes with her. However, she was in my Mom's Distributive Education class and was chosen as one of the contestants for that year's DECA Sweetheart Pageant. I had just gotten a 35mm camera for Christmas and Mom asked me to take pictures of the rehearsal and pageant.

Janz was one of the smartest girls in school, but when she was doing the runway stuff in the pageant, she was SOOOOO STIFF! Her entire upper body was completely frozen while she walked across the stage, displaying the fashions she was wearing. This was even during rehearsal. It was apparent she suffered from stage fright, probably a lot more than Jand did the previous year. (Just hit the link in the paragraph above!)

I used the opportunity of being backstage to get to know Janz a little bit better and took pictures of her. When the photos got developed, Mom noticed that I had taken more shots of her, but didn't say anything outside of that.

The next time I would get to spend more time with Janz was that year's academic trip. She didn't qualify to go the year before. I had gotten on the school bus and Rod sat in the seat in front of me. The seats next to us were empty. Janz got on the bus with her friend Kenz (a girl I knew from Student Council and actually was attracted to, but not as much as Janz). They got on the bus a little late and could not find seats together, so they sat with Rod and me. Janz sat in the seat next to me. (I'm pretty certain that Janz was aware I had a crush on her as she had likely seen the photos from the Sweetheart Pageant.)

On the way up to Albuquerque, Janz, Kenz, Rod and I conversed together as a group. It was like we were an actual group of friends. After awhile, I fell asleep. I woke up and found that Janz had fallen asleep on my shoulder. I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW EXCITING THAT WAS! However, I was a realist and was aware that Janz probably had a boyfriend who was no longer in school. I knew that I could only enjoy this for what it was worth.

That night, most of us went to the movies. Some of us, including Janz and Kenz, went to see "The Howling." One of the other students was a sophomore whose parents never let him see R-rated movies, so he was thrilled to get to go without needing anyone's permission. Janz and Kenz got in the auditorium first and sat together. I sat behind them. At one point, they started getting scared from the movie and asked me to come up and sit between them. I LEPT over the seat. When scary stuff came up, Janz would hide her face in my shoulder. (So, yes. I'm counting this a date to qualify Janz for the Friend Zone.)

I didn't see too much of Janz for the rest of the year. During the summer, I saw her at a pre-wedding party a friend of the family was having. She showed up and mostly talked to Mom. I did tell her hi. A few weeks later, I ran into her in a convenience store. For the first time ever, I saw her wearing glasses. That Sunday, the local newspaper ran a wedding announcement that she had gotten married the month before. (I have a video commentary on married women who wear glasses here. Dang, this post has a lot of links in it. I make a reference to Janz without mentioning her name.)

I never saw Janz again. I also can't find her on the Internet (mainly because I can't remember the last name of the guy she married). However, I did find Kenz. She still lives in Artesia. She got married and had four children. One of them is of another race. I can only assume it is an adoption. She also gained a lot of weight.

I don't know if I'll ever find out what happened to her. But it's not like it really matters, to tell you the truth.

Jud in Disguise

Some women only use eyeglasses for one thing:



I will be writing about that one married girl on Monday.

Homicidal Tendencies

Yesterday, I revealed how I wanted to commit suicide very badly when I was 16 years old. I'd never really discussed that with anybody before. Knowing that I had those thoughts, to the point that I actually planned to do something to myself, disturbs me to this day. It doesn't help knowing that a lot of other people have gone through the same thing when they were my age. My pain was all my own. From my experience, they didn't have it as bad as me (although I know I am wrong).

One thing I didn't mention about the thoughts racing in my mind between the point that I ran into my ex-girlfriend and being across the street from the location where I had planned to die was that a part of me wanted everyone who ever wronged me, even those I considered friends, to suffer. The idea entered my mind that I shouldn't be the one to die, that they should.

This thought was only in my head for about a half-second, but the implications of that have haunted me for more than 33 years.

Something you should know about my father is that he is not a gun nut. The only guns we had in the house were hunting rifles and BB guns. We had no handguns, no assault weapons, no automatics, and no ammunition laying around the house that I was aware of.

But this is scary, even to me: If my Dad had a lot of these guns and ammo, that half-second thought would have continued for another half-second, and I would have started implementing a plan to bring the weapons to school and lay waste to everyone I came in contact with. This would have occurred a litle more than 18 years before Columbine.

I can picture myself concealing the firearms in my clothes, walking into the Commons area, pulling the guns out and indiscriminately firing at anybody who happened to be there. I can see myself chasing down anyone trying to run away.

I would not have made plans to kill myself. That would have been the exact opposite of what I was trying to accomplish, after all. However, I now know that my chances of walking out of that situation alive were very slim. I'm pretty certain once the members of the Artesia Police Department arrived on scene, none of those officers would be looking to catch me alive. Many of those on the force were just looking for an opportunity to kill a teenager and get away with it. They would have hunted me down and shot me, even if I was surrendering, or rolled up in a little ball, crying my eyes out.

But this is really frightening: If they had captured me alive, nothing really bad would have happened to me. I was 16 and this was 1981. The State of New Mexico did not try 16-year-olds as adults at that time. The worst thing the authorities would have been able to do is send me to the Boys Ranch at the Methodist Children's Home in Waco, TX. However, I'm certain I would have been treated 100 times worse by the other juvenile delinquents who were housed there. I would have been a real easy target. It would not have been a cakewalk (and I wouldn't have gotten any cake, either).

But my family would have been affected the most if I had done this, regardless of whether or not I survived capture. They would have had to leave town, maybe even the state. They wouldn't have been able to work as teachers again. Dad would have had to sell the apartments. Loyd would have become the star child in the family.

When the Columbine massacre occurred, I remembered how I could have done that when I was younger. I can understand the pain the shooters were experiencing, but I was able to eventually shake that all off. From the things I have read, they spent years letting their frustrations fester and they had each other to egg on. I was all alone. That may have made a difference. I didn't allow myself to egg me on. I would have wound up with more than egg on my face.

One things people say about Columbine is that it started a trend of school shootings. If I had lived through my endeavor, I would hate to think that I started a trend and would have a hard time living with myself. The guilt would just eat away at me and I would have to continue receiving therapy for the rest of my life, but would never completely be able to deal with it.

Suicidal Tendencies

From most of the posts I have published about my junior year, you might get the idea that with me being on the Student Council and my first paying job that I was very happy during that period in my life. Well, I was, but that was also the darkest time in my existence, even to the point that I was seriously considering not existing anymore.

A lot of it had to do with the factors I write about on this blog on an almost daily basis. I just felt like a loser who could not get any respect from anybody, even though I was considered one of the top and most active students in school. I have to admit now that a lot of that perception is my fault, that when I was younger, I thought people liked me. All the truth just came to the surface when I was sixteen that nobody probably ever liked me, even going back to my time at Hermosa Elementary School. I even felt like the people I currently referred to as my friends couldn't stand me.

As, I've mentioned before, I had noticed over the course of the previous few years how no one really wanted to have anything to do with me. If I approached a group of people talking, they would all stop what they were doing once I arrived and sometimes disperse. I was constantly being picked on in class. And remember, I got to be on Student Council by default. If two more people from my class had gotten on the ballot, I probably wouldn't have gotten to serve.

Everything going through my head just got to be too much. It was so bad, I wanted to just go somewhere and scream my head off. (At this point in my life, I had never heard of primal scream therapy.) The bad thing was that I was so involved in Student Council, Choir, Drama, Law Enforcement Explorers and my job that I just couldn't find time to do that. However, I did find an opportunity during an evening choir rehearsal for "Bye Bye Birdie."

In the main lobby of the auditorium was a room that had some folding chairs and tables. At a point during practice in which I knew I would not be needed for a long period of time, I went to that room. The lobby area was kept dark at night, so everyone pretty much stayed out. I had so many emotions bottled up inside and I was ready to let them all out. I went into the room, closed the door and sat down I WAILED for a solid 10 minutes. I thought about how terribly everyone treated me and felt like this torment would haunt me my entire life. I thought it would never end.

Even though I took precautions to do this in complete privacy, there was a part of me that hoped that someone would hear me and come see what was going on. That didn't happen. I was surprised to find that I was all cried out after 10 minutes. I thought I would be blasting my emotions all over the place for at least an hour. I even tried to force myself to cry and scream some more, but it just didn't happen.

I actually did not feel better after this. I still wanted to take my own life. Something that just popped up in Artesia that year was a suicide prevention hotline. However, they didn't call it that. But if you needed help going through something in your life, you called this number. One Saturday, when I was home alone, I decided to call that number. I told the person I needed to talk to someone about some bad stuff that was going on in my life. They gave me another number to call and told me who to ask for. I called the second number. A woman picked up the phone. I asked for the person I was referred to, who was male. She asked who was calling. I told her I didn't want to give my name. She said (in a sing-songy voice) that if I didn't give my name, I wasn't going to talk to anyone. I told her I thought I could remain anonymous on this call. I think she suddenly realized I was referred by the suicide prevention hotline and went to get the person I asked for.

The man got on the phone and he was rather soft-spoken, almost like a pastor. I never mentioned that I wanted to kill myself. I just told him that it seemed like I was having a hard time in life and that no one liked me and it made things very hard to get through the day. I told him things were fine at home (which they were, compared to what was going on at school). He just said some general stuff. I probably left enough clues for him to figure out who I was. Among other things, I mentioned I was one of the top students at school. I actually don't remember a thing he said. I know I was hoping he was going to ask if I was going to do myself in, but that topic never came up on his end.

I still did not feel any better. I felt like everything seemed to indicate that I just needed to bring it all to an end, that there was just no point in continuing to live a life in pain when it seemed like no one actually wanted me around. I knew that suicide was my only option. I knew it was wrong and I knew it would hurt my parents, but this was the only way I could think of to make it end.

I made elaborate plans for my suicide. I planned to get access to the auditorium during lunch. I would set up the lighting system to shine on my corpse swing from a noose on one of the tiers hanging from the ceiling. (I came across a rope that someone had tied into a noose. I felt like this was another sign the universe was giving me to kill myself.) The day before I planned to do this, I was in Drama class. I got a paper towel, folded it and put it in one of the side lobby doors so that it wouldn't close all the way or latch. I could just pull the door open to get inside.

The morning classes were very painful to get through. I couldn't concentrate on anything that was going on. I just knew in a few hours, it would be over and done with.

Lunch came. I didn't eat anything. I just started walking toward the auditorium. It was about a quarter-mile away from the main high school campus. I was walking by the old swimming pool with my head down. Suddenly, I heard, "Hi, Fayd!" I looked up. It was Roz. I said, "Hi," and kept walking. She also kept walking. This started making me think that I saw her like a vision of my life flashing before my eyes. I started thinking that she probably wouldn't care if I killed myself. I started thinking that people might be a little surprised and saddened about me no longer being around, but after awhile, they would quit caring and forget all about me.

I started thinking about how my life would end and theirs would continue like nothing had ever happened. I was close to crossing the street to get to the auditorium. I started thinking about how I didn't want to be this "nothing" that "ever happened." I figured that it really wouldn't do me much good to die, because eventually, everybody's memory of me would die as well, and probably a lot sooner than I would expect. They would forget the pain they showered me with. They would forget that they might have had something to do with it.

All of this bounced around my brain before I crossed the street. I figured that dying would definitely mean the end of me as I hadn't really done anything to leave my mark. Everybody else would still get that shot.

The need for the opportunity to prove that I was someone is what appears to have saved me from the brink. It wasn't talking things out with my friends or family. It wasn't going over what was bothering me with the suicide prevention hotline. It wasn't discussing things with a therapist. It was something I had to do myself, the only person I found I could really rely on. I've found that is my most reliable resource, and if it ever disappears, I am likely to do so as well.

The worst punishment ever

Mom was always aiming to get something constructive done out of something destructive:



I still have issues with cleaning when I haven't done anything wrong.

High School Enemies: Brid

I first met Brid about the same time I met Led. I was in the second grade and he was in the first at Hermosa Elementary. My first impression of him was that he was this mean loudmouth. Later, I would recognize him as having a Napoleon complex. I think it had something to do with his last name sounding like "girly." I can imagine kids in kindergarten giving him a hard time over that name, so he had to toughen up at an early age and figure out how to fight back.

He was that rare bully: One with friends. All of his friends were mean loudmouths like him, but they had the stature to back up those mouths. Trying to beat up on Brid would probably result in getting attacked by boys who could definitely deliver a pounding. Brid was the kind of person that if he saw you (if you were one of his targets) on the other side of the road, he would actually cross the street to give you a hard time. His bullying was largely verbal, but it still hurt knowing that he hated me so much and for no good reason.

When Brid started high school, his parents bought him a brand new, red Trans Am. (In 1980, Trans Ams were the most desirable cars for many of us because we knew there was no way we were going to get a Corvette. However, one joke I heard at the time was "T.A.'s are like hemorrhoids. Sooner or later, everybody gets one.") If he ever drove past me, he would yell some insulting remark or tell me to get my butt out of the road (even though I was on the sidewalk).

I remember seeing him drive one of the Druds around. At the time I thought, "Is that really the best you can do with that car?" I guess some girls would consider him "cute," but to choose from the Druds would seem to indicate that he didn't have much respect for girls at our school (or just wanted to go for whom he thought would be easy).

One day during the school year, I was working a rare Saturday morning shift at my part-time job. I came home and took a nap afterward. Mom came to my room and woke me up. She told me that Brid had died in a car accident the night before. She asked if I knew him. I told her I did, but I didn't tell her to what extent. She asked me if he was someone I cared about. I told her no.

I don't know all the details of the accident. I know that he had been drinking alcohol and struck a telephone pole. He supposedly flew through the windshield. I don't know this for a fact, but I think that while he was drinking, he shot off his big mouth around the scary punks from the refinery and there was a challenge to race. The accident likely happened during the race. Perhaps he got run off the road. However, I never read or heard anything that indicated there was anyone else involved in the crash.

There was another person in the passenger seat with him when the accident happened. He was injured and in the hospital for several weeks.

I know this is terrible, but this was the only time in my life I was actually glad someone was dead. I actually felt a tremendous weight lifted off my shoulders knowing that I was never going to have to deal with this jerk again. The only thing I felt bad about is that there weren't about a half-dozen other guys in the car with him to suffer a similar fate. (I should note that I did not feel that way about the person who was in the car with him. That guy was pretty decent. However, after he got out of the hospital and returned to school, he had this whole "I cheated death" vibe about him that became pretty much intolerable.)

In recent years, I entertained a fantasy of running into his parents. (From what I can tell, they're both still alive and live in Artesia.) They would realize that I had gone to school with Brid and ask about my experience with him. I would tell them that since the day we met, Brid treated me like crap and went out of his way to make feel bad. I would tell them how grateful I was that they got him that red Trans Am. At this point, they would break out into tears and call me a horrible person, and I would tell them I got that from Brid all the time, so he must have learned to do that from them.

But I don't know if I'd actually say that to them. You'd think that after 34 years, they would stop dwelling on his death. However, according to the obituaries of his grandmothers, there's a chance he may have been the only child his parents had. At the very least, he was the only son they ever had.

There's a funny thing about being bullied by someone: You often feel like you are the only person they are picking on and you wonder what it is that made them single you out for punishment. I never knew how things started with Brid. He was just nasty to me from day one. But about a year and a half after Brid died, I found out that he had being pulling the same stunts with another person named Sted who was a year younger than him. Sted had gone to school at Abo, so that means the bullying probably started in the sixth grade for him, when Brid was in the seventh grade. Sted told me he was also glad that he died.

I'm certain other people feel the same way when the bullies currently in their life die, but I know some who dislike that they never got proper closure, to get that chance to get back at those who created misery for them.

Sample this!

I thought I'd make a little video while I was doing tests for my doctors.



Next time, I'll show you what you can do with the vials of blood they draw out of your arm.

High School Friends: Led, Part 2

Yesterday, I started writing about my friend Led, whom I knew from elementary through high school. In today's post, I'll tell what I know about what happened to him.

After I graduated from high school, Led started writing country songs. When I came back to town following my sophomore year of college, he performed a couple during the choir's annual Spring Concert. But that was the last I saw of any attempt by him to try to be an entertainer.

Every Christmas during college and afterward, I would drop by and see Led. He was usually at his mother's house for the holidays. At one point, he had gotten married and had a child before he was 25 years old. After that, I sort of lost track of him.

I didn't see him again until 1997. I was home on a vacation. I was able to call his mother and get his whereabouts. He was living in Albuquerque at the time. I was going to be driving up to Denver on that trip. He was excited to hear from me. I was able to stop by and stay the night in his apartment.

I found the place where he lived. He was working as a US Marshal at the time. (One thing I haven't mentioned up to this point was that Led was rather short with a very skinny build. He had put on some muscle since the last time I saw him, but he still did not look like someone in law enforcement.) We went out to get something to eat. He brought his gun with him. I was not expecting that.

What had happened in the previous years is that he had gotten divorced from his wife. She became addicted to the Internet and hooked up with some guy she met on-line. However, she still had custody of their child. At that time, he didn't have any romantic prospects. (I myself was in the middle of a dramatic on-again, off-again relationship, but that's way down the line.)

Interestingly enough, I would be seeing Rod for the first time in 14 years the very next day in Albuquerque. Even more interesting is that I would never see either one again after these reconnections.

I don't exactly know what has happened to Led. I know that his mother died in 2011 at the age of 87. At that time, the obituary indicated that he was married and living in Roswell. He also appeared to have had two children with his second wife.

I expect I'll be seeing him again sometime in the future. I will do a Part 3 when that happens.

High School Friends: Led, Part 1

Led was actually a friend I had known since before I started first grade. However, I only remember meeting him when I was in second grade and he started attending first grade. He was about a year younger than me. After a few weeks of talking to him, we realized that we lived about a half-mile from each other in Cottonwood. I had always been able to clearly see his house from mine (because there weren't any homes in between). Up to the point I was seven, I had always wondered who lived in that house. And then I found out. What a coincidence!

But the funny thing was that we had actually played together prior to going to school. I personally didn't remember him, and he didn't really remember me, but he remembered my last name. At any rate, we had a friendship that continued up through high school.

Led had two much older sisters who had gotten married and had children by the time we were in high school. This meant he had nieces and nephews. It also meant that his mother was much older than the average parent. I don't think I ever met his father and he may have died before Led started attending school.

We were interested in music. We had both been in the choirs going through the grades leading up to high school. However, our personal tastes in music were very different. He was into country music. I didn't like it because there were TOO MANY STUDENTS AT THE SCHOOL WHO LIKED IT! My limited appreciation for it came much later in life.

Led was often critical of the rock music I listened to. He once saw a guitar ad featuring Pete Townshend in a magazine. I never saw the ad, but apparently, Townshend was doing a leaping windmill with his guitar. Led made the comment that you never see any country musicians doing that. I replied by saying that if someone tried to do that with a steel guitar, they would probably get a hernia.

I mentioned how I had gotten to work at the high school auditorium for special events setting up the lights. I put in word for Led to be our sophomore to train when I became a junior. Led became part of the team that included Rod. Led also took part in Drama Department productions, but he never took the Drama class itself.

Outside of Choir and Drama, Led and I didn't do very much. I remember we went to see "Clash of the Titans" when it came out. A lot of our ability to have friend-only activity was hampered by the fact that my family moved to town when I was nine and he continued to live in the country.

Our friendship remained strong at school. However, there was one time that he chose to betray me somewhat. During my junior year, the Choir did a production of the musical "Bye Bye Birdie." I got to play Conrad Birdie. Led got to play Hugo. At the end of the first act, Hugo punches Conrad on national TV. We did the standard fake stage combat, in which he would make a hitting sound with one hand against his chest while pretending to hit me with the other. This was the way rehearsed and played it the first night. It was fine.

But on the night of the second and final performance, I walked by Led as he was talking to Rod (who was playing Mr. McAfee). I heard him say, "So tonight, I'm going to..." and then he punched his fist into his hand. I immediately figured out that he was planning to actually make contact with the punch. I was not going to let that happen. I still had another act to get through, with a solo. (Unlike the movie version, the punch is at the end of Act One.) If I let him actually hit me, I ran the risk of being knocked unconscious or having teeth broken. (After two years of braces, there was just no way that was going to happen!)

So we got to the end of Act One. He came up to punch me and I moved out of the way before he could land the punch. Since he was expecting to hit me, he didn't do the trick sound effect, so it was completely silent. After we left the stage, he said, "Hey! Why did you move out of the way like that?" "Because I saw you and Rod talking and it looked like you had decided to actually punch me on stage." "Well, you wrecked it!" (An interesting thing to note is that the performance was being videotaped. On the tape, the punch looked real. It just didn't sound real) Come to find out, it was Tad who wanted Led to punch me for real on stage. (One other thing Led and I had in common was our severe dislike of Tad.) Tad would not have agreed to the assault if Tad had asked him, so she got Rod to ask him. (This was strange, because Rod also disliked Tad, to the point that he got all in her face once. It just seemed like EVERYBODY thought I deserved a good punch in the face.)

Going into his senior year, Led was elected President of the Drama Club. Unfortunately, the Drama Club would cease to exist.

I continued to see Led occasionally following high school. I will be putting that information in the next post.

In case I haven't made it clear enough, I'm a loser

When you're a loser, it feels like the whole world is conspiring against you to keep you from success.



The vehicle I mention at the end of the video was actually the best car I ever owned. I drove it for 9 1/2 years.

I take a chance on romance

I had one girlfriend my sophomore year in school. I thought I would be doing pretty good if I averaged about one girlfriend a year. I had to set some sites on potential new girlfriends. However, as you might have seen in the past, I had a lot of restrictions:

1. They needed to be smart.
2. I needed to find them attractive, but hoped that other guys wouldn't.
3. Quirkiness was a virtue.
4. While I didn't have a problem with them being overweight, I did not find obesity attractive.
5. They have to avoid wearing too much make-up. I actually liked them better if they didn't wear make-up at all.
6. It didn't matter to me whether or not they were virgins. I wasn't planning to have sex with them, anyway.

And my newly-minted rule going into my junior year:

7. It was best if they knew practically nothing about me.

That last rule pretty much eliminated every girl I had ever gone to school with up to that point. My first girlfriend had never gone to the same school as me because she was two years older. This meant she didn't know me in junior high school or intermediate school and was not aware of my loser reputation.

A few weeks into the new school year, our Algebra II class got a new student. She sat in the row next to mine, just a few feet away. Her name was Shaz and she met all of the above requirements. She was a little overweight, but that wasn't an issue. She was indeed very smart, and actually, kind of funny. She had a rather endearing look about her in which she did not wear make up and I didn't think that any of the Alpha males had noticed her yet. After knowing her for one week, I made my move.

I followed her to her locker after class. (The lockers were right outside the classroom.) I straight-forwardly asked her if she would like to go out with me. She said, "Well, I have a boyfriend who lives out of town, so I really can't." I was a little disappointed, and somewhat surprised because she was acting like she was flirting in class, not just with me, but with the other guys in my row.

I stopped all attempts to pursue her and let things get back to normal in the Algebra class. I avoided making any conversation with her outside the groups in the two rows.

A few days later, I saw her walking in the hall, holding hands with one of the other boys in my row. This guy was not what I referred to as an "Alpha Male," but was a very popular student, was the Student Council's Assembly Chairman and considered a born leader in the class.

I got almost as angry about this as I was about not being asked to be in Student Council the year before. So many thoughts went through my head. I couldn't believe that she just LIED to me about having a boyfriend out of town. From what I could tell, I got to her first, before anyone else, before she found out what a geek I was. She could have told me the truth and said there was someone else that she liked and was hoping to date. I probably could have accepted that. And to find out that way, with a public display of mild affection, it was almost like she was flaunting that in my face. And it would have felt that way if she made eye contact with me.

(I should note that I never saw them like that again, so I don't know if they were just playing around at the time. However, she had a big smile on her face while they were holding hands.)

Anyway, I got over that eventually. I guess I just didn't count on other guys finding her that attractive, but I determined toward the end of the school year that I was completely wrong about that perception. What follows is an explanation of how I came to that conclusion. It has a lengthy set-up, but it's necessary:

Toward of the end of my junior year, around the time we were having the Student Council elections, we had the cheerleader elections. There are a couple of things you need to know about our cheerleader elections: The popular vote only counted for part of who qualified to be a cheerleader. The candidates had to audition for judges and were given a score. The popular votes would be added to that score and that determined who would get to be a cheerleader the next year.

During my sophomore year, all six of those who were elected as cheerleaders (including one guy) would all be seniors the next year. This meant that our school would have no incumbent cheerleaders to carry over to my senior year. The emotional effect of the shutout of those potential cheerleaders from my class was so bad that none of the junior varsity squad from my sophomore year even bothered to audition the next year (and there were six of them).

The school decided to keep this from ever happening again by instuting a rule that everyone, when making their six choices, had to vote for at least two candidates who would be seniors the next year and at least two who would be juniors. This left the door wide open for just about anyone to try out for cheerleader. This meant that everyone from my class who auditioned for cheerleader had never actually been cheerleaders before. One of those who tried out was Shaz. She actually got elected. All of a sudden, that placed her on the "A" list at my school. So for her to actually make that journey from the unknown new student to varsity cheerleader meant that a lot of other guys found her attractive. (Although I have to admit that our cheer squad really stunk that year and it was due to the senior members having an obvious lack of experience.)

After graduating from high school, I saw her once when I was working at K-mart in Artesia. She appeared to be dating this one guy who was in our class our senior year, but only for the first semester. He was one of those who graduated in the middle of the school year. I wondered if this was the out-of-town boyfriend she first mentioned, but I never found out.

I never saw her again after that. However, I was able to find her on Facebook. She actually still looks about the same as I remember, just older. I was able to recognize her the moment I saw a photo of her. She still lives in Artesia. She is married and has two kids, a boy and a girl. Her occupation on one site I found was listed as a tax preparer, but it seems like she just sort of does that just to make a little extra money the first 3 1/2 months of the year. Her mother also passed away late last year. I never knew her mother.

I don't know where she lived before she came to Artesia, but I find it sort of odd that she came to our town when she was sixteen and just decided that she didn't want to live anywhere else.

I would never take another chance on trying to get a girlfriend for the remainder of high school, but I did try to get a date for Prom. That's the topic of a later post.