During the spring semester of 1980, Rod asked me if I wanted to join him on a trip to Indiana that summer. He was planning to go to the International Theatre Arts Conference at Ball State University in Muncie. In the Drama Club, I had seen it advertised on the back of "Dramatics" magazine, which was the publication of the International Thespian Society. The ad said something to the effect that Muncie was the theatre capital of the world during this particular week in the summer. I had no idea that I would be able to go to it.
I asked my parents if I could go. There was some discussion, but they surprisingly said yes and that they would pay for it. (My parents were known for saying no to almost anything that Loyd and I requested that was going to cost a lot of money.)
This would be the first time I would go on a cross-country trip without my family. I previously mentioned the road trip to Albuquerque in which Rod and I spent the night in his car. We didn't get any sleep. We got out the next morning and met the other students from Albuquerque who would be going. The person who organized the trip was the Drama teacher for West Mesa High School, but he had just accepted a job at Albuquerque Academy. I recognized some of the students from West Mesa from the production of "Lysistrata" they had done at the Drama Festival at ENMU. There were three students from the Academy and one girl from Cibola High School.
We spent the first day driving to Oklahoma. After checking into the motel in Oklahoma City, we boys ate at a place called "Pizza Planet." The pizza tasted good at first, but then it started tasting strange. Everyone else noticed this aspect as well. I am going on record by calling it the second worst pizza I've ever had in my life. (However, they appear to still be in business. It must be because they serve beer and wine. And while I'm at it, I'll end the suspense now: The worst pizza I've ever had was at a place called Video Pizza in Roswell. They had more emphasis on their video games than their pizza. However, I ate there in 1984, so that means that for about four years, Pizza Planet ranked as the absolute worst pizza I've ever had.)
The next morning, we picked up some students from Chickasha High School who were joining us for the trip. We drove up to St. Louis, MO. That night, we went to the Gateway Arch. (I had been two years ago with my family during a spring break trip. I would also go back two years later when I went to the International Theatre Arts Conference again. That means I went to the Gateway Arch three times in five years.)
The next day, we went to Six Flags Over Mid-America. I remember me and this guy from the Oklahoma group stalking this girl around the park for the better part of an hour. After the park, the entire group did not go to a motel. We stayed on the bus all night because we were going to be in Muncie the next morning.
We got to the campus of Ball State University and the whole place is crazy! People were running around everywhere. This one girl was a mime and got on our bus and attempted to communicate where we were supposed to be. Somehow, we got the message. The boys were in the Studebaker East dorm rooms. We would be eating all our meals in the Studebaker West hall, which was next door. However, after we ate lunch, I had a lot of trouble finding my room and ran around for about an hour before I realized that my room was in a different building from where the cafeteria was located. (We actually had it lucky. Some of the girls were in one dorm room, but were assigned to eat at another building clear across the campus. That university is HUGE!)
The whole week was an endless series of performances and workshops. I can't possibly go into all those details, but I remember so much of what happened. It was a really great week in my life. (There are so many details, that I would drive everybody crazy with the minutae of what happened. As I mentioned in the previous post, I handwrote a 60-page letter. I think that why Dayz never wrote me again.)
I actually tried to meet girls to hang out with. I liked that I had something in common with everyone there. The closest I came was this one girl from Georgia. She was really cute and I enjoyed her accent. We were both in this workshop to create a musical practically on the spot. We played people who (based on actual experiences, like mine), got lost at the conference. We helped compose a song and sang it. We unexpectedly got to perform the piece a couple of times. During the finale of the first performance, she put her arm around my back. I kind of freaked out at first because I'm not used to being touched, but I put my arm around her and we finished the performance. However, she didn't do that during the second performance. We really didn't see each other after that. I wasn't sure if she liked me that way (because she was SO out of my league), but my first clue was that she didn't repeat the arm behind the back technique. It's just as well, because I didn't want to have to have another pen pal situation (although I didn't know that I would never hear from Dayz again).
An unusual thing happened a few weeks later. I got a Disneyland postcard from someone with the same last name as my Grandma Bend. I asked my Mom if she was related to anyone with the name Tesd. She said no. I wrote back and asked her who she was. She had been in the musical with me in Muncie. She had asked just about everyone for their address. I remembered her as being this girl with a British accent. I liked her, but I was too focused on the Georgia girl to give her more attention. However, I did ask her for the other addresses she had gotten. The Georgia girl wasn't on the list (even though that girl's classmate was).
Tesd and I remained pen pals for the next year. Then she went to college and I never heard from her again, either. I don't know what happened to her.
This sort of sets a pattern for me. I will find one girl desirable, but ignore other girls who might like me even when those girls have the qualities I am looking for. It would take years for me to break this pattern.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Friend Zone #1: Dayz
In my earlier posts, I mentioned how I like to come up with rules for certain things. I just realized that I never laid down the rules for determining who was an actual girlfriend. Since I am tackling the issue of being stuck in the friend zone today, I will also list my rules for determining that as well.
In order for someone to be considered my girlfriend, I have to have kissed her full on the mouth for more than five seconds. That's basically the only rule, since I never kissed a girl in some kind of casual alcohol-induced make out session.
However, the rules for being in the friend zone with a girl are a bit more complex. The first is that I have to have been interested in her as a potential girlfriend. The second is that I have to have gone out on a date with her. The third is that I needed to have spent a considerable amount of time with her before I realize that my attempts at romance are going to be futile. These do not have to happen in any particular order. These all apply to my first friend zone situation.
I've written about my previous encounters with Dayz: A fleeting few words at the Solo and Ensemble Festival, a more thorough introduction at the Drama Festival, and getting to see her briefly at the Choral Festival before I got whisked away to go on the academic trip.
But I had several more encounters with Dayz. They started by writing her a letter after the Drama Festival. I had gotten her address there. Orld and that other guy had also gotten her address after I asked first. I thought it was best to play it cool and not write a letter right away. However, the other guy bragged that he wrote her and she wrote him back and included a picture. I realized I needed to step my game up and wrote her. She also sent me a reply and a photo of her from last year. I got them within a week of writing the letter to her.
With her last name and address, I was able to locate her phone number through directory assistance. I actually would call her long distance. (Back then, long distance was a big deal. My parents used to scream at me for making long distance calls because they cost so much. I don't miss those days.) I found that she was actually willing to talk on the phone, for like an hour at a time. I couldn't believe I could keep a girl on the phone that long. I never even got to do that with my ex-girlfriend.
I got to do this a few times prior to seeing her at the Choral Festival. After I left the festival to be driven back to Artesia, a couple of the girls I was friends with in my choir hung out with Dayz. They later told me that she mentioned that she had a boyfriend. They asked, "What about Fayd?" She replied that while she thought I was a nice guy, she wasn't interested in having me for a boyfriend. I was crushed. I realized that I would never get to be closer to her the way I wanted to be. However, she still showed interest in being my friend. I decided to just keep being her friend and seeing if there was a possibility it would lead to something else.
But I soon found out I wasn't going to get that chance. Before the end of the school year, she told me that her father (who was apparently in the Air Force) had been transferred to Phoenix and the whole family was moving to Tempe. She knew that she was going to be moving that summer. There was a chance that I'd never see her again.
I also had a pretty full plate for the summer after my sophomore year. A few weeks in, I was going to go to the International Theatre Arts Conference in Muncie, IN with Rod. Then, Loyd and I were going to help my Dad paint the house (THE WHOLE OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE). After that, I was going to be spending a week at a Rotary-sponsored summer camp. I'll be writing about those later, but today, I'm going to focus on the week I got to spend hanging out with Dayz, which happened before all that.
During the summer of 1980, Mom was taking a couple of classes at ENMU in Portales. The first week she went, she invited me to go along. That meant I would get to spend time with Dayz. I was able to verify ahead of time that she was going to be there that week. She knew I was coming. Mom and I stayed with relatives who lived on the outskirts of town.
Mom and I drove up to Portales in my car. What I did was drive my Mom to class and then go to Dayz' house to hang out with her. Then, I would pick Mom up and we'd drive back and have dinner with the relatives. That whole week is a bit of a blur. I remember going to see her Monday morning. We went out and drove around the town a bit. Then, I took her back home and hung around the ENMU campus, mostly in the library. I also saw her Tuesday morning, but we only hung out at her house for about an hour before she asked me to leave.
On Wednesday, Mom didn't want me to overstay my welcome with Dayz, so she took my car and left me there at the relatives'. I spent a lot of time walking around their ranch. I remember coming upon the livestock. I saw this thick wire surrounding the area. While I examined it using my fingers, I wondered how this wire was supposed to keep the livestock in. I then found out. I received a quick shot. It was an electric fence. That made sense.
I got to go out on an actual date with Dayz Thursday night. We went to see "Bronco Billy." Afterwards, we got something to eat. I leaned over and asked her, "Do you want to take a drag?" Her eyes widened like she didn't know what to say. Then she realized what I meant. "Oh, you mean take a drag down Main Street. I thought you meant take a drag off a cigarette."
We drove around a little bit and took her home. I went to see her Friday morning, knowing that I would tell her goodbye. In my mind, I imagined that we might hug and kiss, but she didn't even shake my hand before I left.
A few weeks later, I went to the International Theatre Arts Conference. After I got back, I wrote a 60-page letter to her that detailed all the stuff that happened to me that week. I mailed it to her, and I never heard back from her since. If I had known that I was going to instantly lose contact with her, I would have kept that letter because there was a lot of great stuff that happened and it would be nice to recall it all, including some encounters with someone who would later become rather famous as an actor. (Please note: While I may make reference to the individual when I write about the theatre conference, I will not be identifying him in this phase of the blog.)
A little more than a year later, I got to see "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" in Roswell for the first time. I could have sworn I saw someone who looked just like her walk into the theater. However, her hair was curly. Since I wasn't 100% convinced it was her (and I didn't want to lose my seat in the back row), I didn't approach her. There was really no reason I could think of for her to be in Roswell, so I saved myself some embarrassment.
As it is, I am unable to find her on the Internet, even with the unusual spelling of her first name. Even though I also remember her mother's name, I can't get anything to show up. I doubt she'd still have that 60-page letter anyway.
(Updated 08/01/16: I have found her profile on Facebook.)
Not long ago, I was re-reading some of my old posts for inclusion in my "From the Dorchives," in which I share old articles on Facebook. I read this post and thought I'd try to find her again. I limited my search to people with her name in Tempe, I found a shorter list of people with her name. I found a profile of someone in Phoenix. The photo of the woman looked a lot like her. I was able to look at more photos and became more and more convinced that it was her. Then I came across the item that blasted the caps off the pistons in my neurological pathways: A black and white photograph from around 1972 featuring Dayz and her siblings. This picture was hanging on the wall of her living room in Portales! That was all I needed to KNOW that this was her!
She may have been married before, but she apparently has a significant other now. It's some guy with long grey hair and a mustachio and beard. I would guess he's in his 60s, but I've found it's hard to me to judge peoples' ages by their photographs after they hit 40. He could be a lot closer to my age for all I know. She has a daughter, who appears to have already graduated from college. From what I can tell, the significant other is not the father.
One thing I couldn't help but notice when I started lurking on her profile was how GREAT she still looks. Even with a little age-related weight gain, she is still out of my league. (But considering her significant other, maybe just a couple of positive statistics away.) In some of the photographs, if they're taken from a distance of at least ten feet and she is smiling, she still looks like the 16-year-old that I remember so well.
Her profile lists all the places she's lived. She starts with San Jose, CA in 1964 and shows she lived in places like Thailand and Turkey before her family moved to Portales in 1975. It doesn't list Phoenix in 1980 (but maybe that's because Facebook doesn't list locations more than once, especially if it's where you live now), but it shows she moved to Guam in 1988 and Nevada in 1991.
One of the things that really got to me was a photograph she had of her at her uncle's house in Portales in 1983. I WAS IN PORTALES IN 1983! Unless she came over during those three week periods before or after the summer session at ENMU, I totally could have run into her and seen her again. I can't believe that here it is 30 years later and I got really upset about not seeing her then.
But that photograph showed that she had curly hair, very similar to the woman I saw at "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" in Roswell in 1981. One of the reasons I didn't think it was her in Roswell was that she appeared to be with friends (male and female) and acted like she had been there before. (No one seemed to look around like they were unfamiliar with the theatre.) But it is possible that she got together with friends when she was visiting in Portales and they all took the 90-minute road trip to see the movie. (Although I'm pretty certain the drive back would have been hell, because they wouldn't have returned until at least 3am.) But if I had seen the girl she was friends with when I met her at the Drama Festival, I would have known right away it was her.
I also found her profile on LinkedIn. She works for Arizona State University, but not in a teaching position. I sent her a request to connect, but she declined it. I'm rather disappointed. I'd hoped that she'd always wondered what happened to that boy from Artesia she knew in 1980. However, my friend request on Facebook (on which I am Fayd, not my real name) still has not been declined. But it hasn't been accepted, either.
The good thing is seeing that she is NOT Facebook friends with Orld or that other twerp from the Drama Festival. If I got upset about not seeing her in 1983, I would have been beyond angry if I saw either of them on her friends list. I just hope they've forgotten all about her.
In order for someone to be considered my girlfriend, I have to have kissed her full on the mouth for more than five seconds. That's basically the only rule, since I never kissed a girl in some kind of casual alcohol-induced make out session.
However, the rules for being in the friend zone with a girl are a bit more complex. The first is that I have to have been interested in her as a potential girlfriend. The second is that I have to have gone out on a date with her. The third is that I needed to have spent a considerable amount of time with her before I realize that my attempts at romance are going to be futile. These do not have to happen in any particular order. These all apply to my first friend zone situation.
I've written about my previous encounters with Dayz: A fleeting few words at the Solo and Ensemble Festival, a more thorough introduction at the Drama Festival, and getting to see her briefly at the Choral Festival before I got whisked away to go on the academic trip.
But I had several more encounters with Dayz. They started by writing her a letter after the Drama Festival. I had gotten her address there. Orld and that other guy had also gotten her address after I asked first. I thought it was best to play it cool and not write a letter right away. However, the other guy bragged that he wrote her and she wrote him back and included a picture. I realized I needed to step my game up and wrote her. She also sent me a reply and a photo of her from last year. I got them within a week of writing the letter to her.
With her last name and address, I was able to locate her phone number through directory assistance. I actually would call her long distance. (Back then, long distance was a big deal. My parents used to scream at me for making long distance calls because they cost so much. I don't miss those days.) I found that she was actually willing to talk on the phone, for like an hour at a time. I couldn't believe I could keep a girl on the phone that long. I never even got to do that with my ex-girlfriend.
I got to do this a few times prior to seeing her at the Choral Festival. After I left the festival to be driven back to Artesia, a couple of the girls I was friends with in my choir hung out with Dayz. They later told me that she mentioned that she had a boyfriend. They asked, "What about Fayd?" She replied that while she thought I was a nice guy, she wasn't interested in having me for a boyfriend. I was crushed. I realized that I would never get to be closer to her the way I wanted to be. However, she still showed interest in being my friend. I decided to just keep being her friend and seeing if there was a possibility it would lead to something else.
But I soon found out I wasn't going to get that chance. Before the end of the school year, she told me that her father (who was apparently in the Air Force) had been transferred to Phoenix and the whole family was moving to Tempe. She knew that she was going to be moving that summer. There was a chance that I'd never see her again.
I also had a pretty full plate for the summer after my sophomore year. A few weeks in, I was going to go to the International Theatre Arts Conference in Muncie, IN with Rod. Then, Loyd and I were going to help my Dad paint the house (THE WHOLE OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE). After that, I was going to be spending a week at a Rotary-sponsored summer camp. I'll be writing about those later, but today, I'm going to focus on the week I got to spend hanging out with Dayz, which happened before all that.
During the summer of 1980, Mom was taking a couple of classes at ENMU in Portales. The first week she went, she invited me to go along. That meant I would get to spend time with Dayz. I was able to verify ahead of time that she was going to be there that week. She knew I was coming. Mom and I stayed with relatives who lived on the outskirts of town.
Mom and I drove up to Portales in my car. What I did was drive my Mom to class and then go to Dayz' house to hang out with her. Then, I would pick Mom up and we'd drive back and have dinner with the relatives. That whole week is a bit of a blur. I remember going to see her Monday morning. We went out and drove around the town a bit. Then, I took her back home and hung around the ENMU campus, mostly in the library. I also saw her Tuesday morning, but we only hung out at her house for about an hour before she asked me to leave.
On Wednesday, Mom didn't want me to overstay my welcome with Dayz, so she took my car and left me there at the relatives'. I spent a lot of time walking around their ranch. I remember coming upon the livestock. I saw this thick wire surrounding the area. While I examined it using my fingers, I wondered how this wire was supposed to keep the livestock in. I then found out. I received a quick shot. It was an electric fence. That made sense.
I got to go out on an actual date with Dayz Thursday night. We went to see "Bronco Billy." Afterwards, we got something to eat. I leaned over and asked her, "Do you want to take a drag?" Her eyes widened like she didn't know what to say. Then she realized what I meant. "Oh, you mean take a drag down Main Street. I thought you meant take a drag off a cigarette."
We drove around a little bit and took her home. I went to see her Friday morning, knowing that I would tell her goodbye. In my mind, I imagined that we might hug and kiss, but she didn't even shake my hand before I left.
A few weeks later, I went to the International Theatre Arts Conference. After I got back, I wrote a 60-page letter to her that detailed all the stuff that happened to me that week. I mailed it to her, and I never heard back from her since. If I had known that I was going to instantly lose contact with her, I would have kept that letter because there was a lot of great stuff that happened and it would be nice to recall it all, including some encounters with someone who would later become rather famous as an actor. (Please note: While I may make reference to the individual when I write about the theatre conference, I will not be identifying him in this phase of the blog.)
A little more than a year later, I got to see "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" in Roswell for the first time. I could have sworn I saw someone who looked just like her walk into the theater. However, her hair was curly. Since I wasn't 100% convinced it was her (and I didn't want to lose my seat in the back row), I didn't approach her. There was really no reason I could think of for her to be in Roswell, so I saved myself some embarrassment.
As it is, I am unable to find her on the Internet, even with the unusual spelling of her first name. Even though I also remember her mother's name, I can't get anything to show up. I doubt she'd still have that 60-page letter anyway.
(Updated 08/01/16: I have found her profile on Facebook.)
Not long ago, I was re-reading some of my old posts for inclusion in my "From the Dorchives," in which I share old articles on Facebook. I read this post and thought I'd try to find her again. I limited my search to people with her name in Tempe, I found a shorter list of people with her name. I found a profile of someone in Phoenix. The photo of the woman looked a lot like her. I was able to look at more photos and became more and more convinced that it was her. Then I came across the item that blasted the caps off the pistons in my neurological pathways: A black and white photograph from around 1972 featuring Dayz and her siblings. This picture was hanging on the wall of her living room in Portales! That was all I needed to KNOW that this was her!
She may have been married before, but she apparently has a significant other now. It's some guy with long grey hair and a mustachio and beard. I would guess he's in his 60s, but I've found it's hard to me to judge peoples' ages by their photographs after they hit 40. He could be a lot closer to my age for all I know. She has a daughter, who appears to have already graduated from college. From what I can tell, the significant other is not the father.
One thing I couldn't help but notice when I started lurking on her profile was how GREAT she still looks. Even with a little age-related weight gain, she is still out of my league. (But considering her significant other, maybe just a couple of positive statistics away.) In some of the photographs, if they're taken from a distance of at least ten feet and she is smiling, she still looks like the 16-year-old that I remember so well.
Her profile lists all the places she's lived. She starts with San Jose, CA in 1964 and shows she lived in places like Thailand and Turkey before her family moved to Portales in 1975. It doesn't list Phoenix in 1980 (but maybe that's because Facebook doesn't list locations more than once, especially if it's where you live now), but it shows she moved to Guam in 1988 and Nevada in 1991.
One of the things that really got to me was a photograph she had of her at her uncle's house in Portales in 1983. I WAS IN PORTALES IN 1983! Unless she came over during those three week periods before or after the summer session at ENMU, I totally could have run into her and seen her again. I can't believe that here it is 30 years later and I got really upset about not seeing her then.
But that photograph showed that she had curly hair, very similar to the woman I saw at "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" in Roswell in 1981. One of the reasons I didn't think it was her in Roswell was that she appeared to be with friends (male and female) and acted like she had been there before. (No one seemed to look around like they were unfamiliar with the theatre.) But it is possible that she got together with friends when she was visiting in Portales and they all took the 90-minute road trip to see the movie. (Although I'm pretty certain the drive back would have been hell, because they wouldn't have returned until at least 3am.) But if I had seen the girl she was friends with when I met her at the Drama Festival, I would have known right away it was her.
I also found her profile on LinkedIn. She works for Arizona State University, but not in a teaching position. I sent her a request to connect, but she declined it. I'm rather disappointed. I'd hoped that she'd always wondered what happened to that boy from Artesia she knew in 1980. However, my friend request on Facebook (on which I am Fayd, not my real name) still has not been declined. But it hasn't been accepted, either.
The good thing is seeing that she is NOT Facebook friends with Orld or that other twerp from the Drama Festival. If I got upset about not seeing her in 1983, I would have been beyond angry if I saw either of them on her friends list. I just hope they've forgotten all about her.
Monday, April 28, 2014
A good girl gets pregnant
In Friday's post, I explored the bad girls I called Druds, who never seemed to get pregnant. Today, I will relate the story of a nice girl who did.
I first met Leez when I was in the sixth grade. She was a year ahead of me in school. She was brought in to play the piano for the choir. She walked in the room and I was immediately attracted to her. She had almost-medium length dark blonde hair and a few freckles. She played the piano very well and was also in band. However, once the teacher announced she was in the seventh grade, I knew that I wasn't going to get to know her on a deep personal level.
I pretty much didn't get to talk to her the entire year. When I was in the seventh grade, she was in junior high school. When I got there, she was in my Choir class. However, all I was able to do was admire her during the class and during the lunch choir. I was amazed at her talent in playing the piano. I knew she could play other instruments as well. When our choir did a presentation of "The Littlest Angel" for Christmas, she and I both played star polishers. There was a picture in the paper that included all the star polishers and we were both in it.
After ninth grade, I was looking forward to seeing Leez again in high school. But that didn't happen. She wasn't in Choir and I didn't see her in band. I didn't know where she went to. Several weeks later, my family started a Saturday morning tradition in which we all would go eat breakfast at Tastee Freez. I saw Leez there. She had a baby. It also looked like she had gotten married.
This shattered my perception of her: OH, MY GOSH! SHE HAD SEX WITH SOME GUY, GOT PREGNANT AND WAS FORCED TO MARRY HIM AND DROP OUT OF SCHOOL! I never expected this out of her. She was so smart and talented, I couldn't believe that some guy could just talk her into having sex with him.
Like Rhod in the previous post, I felt like this just stifled her ability to become someone extraordinary and it all went away just because she met a guy she could not resist. Marriage and children should have come later for her.
Every week, my family went to Tastee Freez, and I almost always saw her there. She seemed to be happy hanging out with his family. I remember her wearing a t-shirt that had an iron-on design that said "Teething is the pits!" It's supposed to be put on a t-shirt for the baby, but she put it on hers with the added phrase "Believe Me!" It pained me that I would never get to know her or become good friends.
Even though my family tradition of going to Tastee Freez lasted through my senior year, I didn't see her with her family after my sophomore year. I guess they found someplace else to eat on Saturday morning. As usual, I was not able to find Leez anywhere on the Internet. I hope she's okay and was able to find a better path after her child (and other potential children) grew up.
Eventually, I had to accept the fact that every girl is capable of getting pregnant. It doesn't matter if you're the smartest or the stupidest. I also had to realize that a girl having sex with some guy is no reflection on her intelligence. It's a choice that she is free to make, and should be able to do that without any hollow judgment directed at her. I wish I had come to this realization when I was a teenager. I would have stopped looking down on "nice" girls who got knocked up.
I first met Leez when I was in the sixth grade. She was a year ahead of me in school. She was brought in to play the piano for the choir. She walked in the room and I was immediately attracted to her. She had almost-medium length dark blonde hair and a few freckles. She played the piano very well and was also in band. However, once the teacher announced she was in the seventh grade, I knew that I wasn't going to get to know her on a deep personal level.
I pretty much didn't get to talk to her the entire year. When I was in the seventh grade, she was in junior high school. When I got there, she was in my Choir class. However, all I was able to do was admire her during the class and during the lunch choir. I was amazed at her talent in playing the piano. I knew she could play other instruments as well. When our choir did a presentation of "The Littlest Angel" for Christmas, she and I both played star polishers. There was a picture in the paper that included all the star polishers and we were both in it.
After ninth grade, I was looking forward to seeing Leez again in high school. But that didn't happen. She wasn't in Choir and I didn't see her in band. I didn't know where she went to. Several weeks later, my family started a Saturday morning tradition in which we all would go eat breakfast at Tastee Freez. I saw Leez there. She had a baby. It also looked like she had gotten married.
This shattered my perception of her: OH, MY GOSH! SHE HAD SEX WITH SOME GUY, GOT PREGNANT AND WAS FORCED TO MARRY HIM AND DROP OUT OF SCHOOL! I never expected this out of her. She was so smart and talented, I couldn't believe that some guy could just talk her into having sex with him.
Like Rhod in the previous post, I felt like this just stifled her ability to become someone extraordinary and it all went away just because she met a guy she could not resist. Marriage and children should have come later for her.
Every week, my family went to Tastee Freez, and I almost always saw her there. She seemed to be happy hanging out with his family. I remember her wearing a t-shirt that had an iron-on design that said "Teething is the pits!" It's supposed to be put on a t-shirt for the baby, but she put it on hers with the added phrase "Believe Me!" It pained me that I would never get to know her or become good friends.
Even though my family tradition of going to Tastee Freez lasted through my senior year, I didn't see her with her family after my sophomore year. I guess they found someplace else to eat on Saturday morning. As usual, I was not able to find Leez anywhere on the Internet. I hope she's okay and was able to find a better path after her child (and other potential children) grew up.
Eventually, I had to accept the fact that every girl is capable of getting pregnant. It doesn't matter if you're the smartest or the stupidest. I also had to realize that a girl having sex with some guy is no reflection on her intelligence. It's a choice that she is free to make, and should be able to do that without any hollow judgment directed at her. I wish I had come to this realization when I was a teenager. I would have stopped looking down on "nice" girls who got knocked up.
Friday, April 25, 2014
The Druds
In yesterday's blog post, I explored the possible reasons for why we had a high drop out rate at Artesia High School in the late 70's and early 80's. However, the explanations given mostly affected the boys. I really didn't go into what made the girls leave school. The girls accounted for about a third of the drop outs.
Some girls dropped out because they got married and pregnant, but not necessarily in that order. However, there were some other girls who had less than desirable reputations. I called them "Druds." Honestly, I don't know where I came up with that term. It probably is a shortened version of "Drug Sluts," but "Druts" doesn't roll off the tongue very easily.
It seemed like the Druds would just indiscriminately hook up with guys who bought them alcohol, weed or any other intoxicant that was likely illegally obtained. They would then consume whatever item was on hand and then go into the back of the car or pickup, take their clothes off and get down to business. The strange thing is that I rarely saw any pregnant Druds. It always seemed to be the "nice" girls who got pregnant. (More on that in the next post.)
It seems like I never had any actual classes with the Druds. They were typically in the remedial English and Math classes and probably didn't even bother to register for science.
The really bad thing is that I remember most of them when they were all much younger. I could recall when they were filled with sweet innocence. For virtually every one of them, they transformed over the summer. They didn't wear nice clothes or makeup anymore. (For some reason, the guys who slept with them really seemed to go for that "tomboy" look.) They always appeared to be completely miserable to have to go to school. I find it hard to believe that their parents would let this happen to them. However, like the boys, they may have been the children of drop outs themselves who may have done the exact same thing when they were in high school and they saw no need to disrupt a pattern they felt they were born into.
This frame of mind took its toll on one girl who seemed to have everything going for her. I met Rhod in the eighth grade. She was beautiful, intelligent and very outgoing. She was a cheerleader in the ninth grade. All the guys wanted to be with her. (I should note that while I had great admiration for her, I did not see her as a potential girlfriend. She was too much out of my league for me to even consider hooking up with her. This explains why her "name" does not end with a "z.")
She was also elected to be a junior varsity cheerleader for the tenth grade. After the first couple of spirit assemblies at the school, I noticed she wasn't on the cheer squad any more. I didn't know what happened. I still saw her around school, but I saw that she started dressing like a Drud. I guess she had somehow had her first sexual experience and decided she didn't want to be a "good little girl" anymore.
The last time I saw her was during my junior year. I was at the Circle K. I saw her waiting in the passenger seat of someone's car. I waved at her. She waved back. I was very saddened to see what she had become. In the ninth grade, I thought she was destined for greatness. That night, I just saw her destined to a lifetime of meaningless hook ups and no opportunity to go to college to achieve something substantial. It didn't bother me to see most of the other girls become Druds, because I somehow expected that of them.
I found Rhod on Facebook. She lives in Hagerman, a small community about 20 miles north of Artesia. She got married to someone, but her relationship status lists her as single. It looks like she had one daughter (whose last name does not match either of Rhod's). She did not age well. If I were to see her on the street, I would have never recognized her. However, she does appear to be happy in her photographs. I hope there was a lot of positive stuff in her life to make up for everything else that went wrong.
I'm certain there are Druds who were able to make better lives for themselves, but I have no reason to try to find out if they did. Rhod is that one exception.
Some girls dropped out because they got married and pregnant, but not necessarily in that order. However, there were some other girls who had less than desirable reputations. I called them "Druds." Honestly, I don't know where I came up with that term. It probably is a shortened version of "Drug Sluts," but "Druts" doesn't roll off the tongue very easily.
It seemed like the Druds would just indiscriminately hook up with guys who bought them alcohol, weed or any other intoxicant that was likely illegally obtained. They would then consume whatever item was on hand and then go into the back of the car or pickup, take their clothes off and get down to business. The strange thing is that I rarely saw any pregnant Druds. It always seemed to be the "nice" girls who got pregnant. (More on that in the next post.)
It seems like I never had any actual classes with the Druds. They were typically in the remedial English and Math classes and probably didn't even bother to register for science.
The really bad thing is that I remember most of them when they were all much younger. I could recall when they were filled with sweet innocence. For virtually every one of them, they transformed over the summer. They didn't wear nice clothes or makeup anymore. (For some reason, the guys who slept with them really seemed to go for that "tomboy" look.) They always appeared to be completely miserable to have to go to school. I find it hard to believe that their parents would let this happen to them. However, like the boys, they may have been the children of drop outs themselves who may have done the exact same thing when they were in high school and they saw no need to disrupt a pattern they felt they were born into.
This frame of mind took its toll on one girl who seemed to have everything going for her. I met Rhod in the eighth grade. She was beautiful, intelligent and very outgoing. She was a cheerleader in the ninth grade. All the guys wanted to be with her. (I should note that while I had great admiration for her, I did not see her as a potential girlfriend. She was too much out of my league for me to even consider hooking up with her. This explains why her "name" does not end with a "z.")
She was also elected to be a junior varsity cheerleader for the tenth grade. After the first couple of spirit assemblies at the school, I noticed she wasn't on the cheer squad any more. I didn't know what happened. I still saw her around school, but I saw that she started dressing like a Drud. I guess she had somehow had her first sexual experience and decided she didn't want to be a "good little girl" anymore.
The last time I saw her was during my junior year. I was at the Circle K. I saw her waiting in the passenger seat of someone's car. I waved at her. She waved back. I was very saddened to see what she had become. In the ninth grade, I thought she was destined for greatness. That night, I just saw her destined to a lifetime of meaningless hook ups and no opportunity to go to college to achieve something substantial. It didn't bother me to see most of the other girls become Druds, because I somehow expected that of them.
I found Rhod on Facebook. She lives in Hagerman, a small community about 20 miles north of Artesia. She got married to someone, but her relationship status lists her as single. It looks like she had one daughter (whose last name does not match either of Rhod's). She did not age well. If I were to see her on the street, I would have never recognized her. However, she does appear to be happy in her photographs. I hope there was a lot of positive stuff in her life to make up for everything else that went wrong.
I'm certain there are Druds who were able to make better lives for themselves, but I have no reason to try to find out if they did. Rhod is that one exception.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
The Drop Out Scam
I need to preface this post by stating that everything that follows is all speculative. I have no solid evidence to back up my claims. I only have the anecdotal evidence presented below. I would also like to point out that the issues presented are likely no longer taking place today.
When I was attending Artesia High School, we appeared to have a very excessive drop out rate. When the school year started in 1979, there were more than 300 students in my sophomore class. When I graduated in 1982, there were less than 200 of us who received diplomas. That meant we lost more than one-third of our original class.
At the time, the Artesia school system had no qualms about holding back students a grade if they failed classes. Many of them did not move beyond 10th grade from the previous year, so this actually added to our number, which more than made up for those who were left behind in the ninth grade. Add to this that the age at which someone could drop out in New Mexico in the early 1980s was 16. A lot of students turn 16 during sophomore year. (I didn't turn 16 until the early part of my junior year. My birthday is in September.)
Why were so many students dropping out? When I went to school, it looked like some of the students weren't even trying to get a passing grade. Apparently, many of the boys were the sons of drop outs who worked at the refinery. They were probably told, once it was determined they were not going to be starters on the high school football team, that they didn't need to worry about making good grades in school or impressing the teachers. All they had to do was wait until they were 16, drop out and then work at the refinery. Right away, they would start making more money than the teachers.
Other drop outs went to work for the City of Artesia. I remember one student who couldn't add two plus two in class. Two weeks later, I saw him operating a backhoe on a city street. I can't operate a backhoe. How did he learn to do this when he couldn't learn simple math? (It boils down to being able to learn how to do something you're interested in. I guess he was far more interested in construction equipment.)
So, why the accusatory title of this post? Well, I suspect that school officials were actually encouraging students to drop out. I know one person in my class who came out of the guidance counselor's office one day. He said that he was told he didn't need to come back to school. He had cut several classes and had poor grades, so they said he might be able to work at the refinery and pointed him in the direction of the state employment office located next to the Circle K. (Everyone who works at the refinery has to go there to get a job because the refinery is on Federal land.)
This made me start to wonder if the school was getting some form of kickback from the refinery for referring our drop outs to go work there. Even though Artesia is a small town, the high school had a lot of nice facilities, including a bowl football stadium, natatorium and auditorium, all of which had been built in the previous 15 years. Even the larger schools in Roswell, Carlsbad and Hobbs had nowhere near the amenities that we had. Again, I don't have any proof, but it wouldn't surprise me to find out the school got money for every student they sent over to the refinery. There may have also been similar rewards for those students who wound up working for the City that were probably channeled from the refinery.
This, if true, would only be part of the scam. The other part would be falsifying attendance records. Since we were a school in a podunk town, it wouldn't be unusual for the state board of education to not pay attention to us. I didn't even think about this until I saw the movie "Pump Up the Volume." In that movie (Spoiler alert!), it is discovered that the principal was suspending students, but reporting them as present in order to receive more money from the state. Imagine my school telling the state that more than 100 students, most of whom were experiencing attendance issues beforehand, all started coming back to school every day until the end of the school year and then decided over the summer they weren't coming back. This is the part that seems implausible. However, I remember that outside the offices of the guidance counselors, they had these posters with cartoons that urged students to stay in school. But at the same time, as it appeared with the boy mentioned above, they were actively promoting dropping out as a viable option.
Regardless of whether there were scams associated with the school drop out rate, I have to admit that it was, in part, a good thing. Most of the potential drop outs had a tendency to be disruptive in class and took valuable time away from the teacher. By the time I was a senior, that issue practically disappeared.
However, I know of at least one drawback from when I was in school: In the tenth grade, we had to take a standardized test. We didn't get the results of that test until junior year. One of the things they found out was that the student from our class with the highest score had already dropped out of school. I'm guessing he skipped a lot of classes the year before and was "encouraged" to work at the refinery. I'd like to think that the school officials were kicking themselves because losing him as a student meant that the class average on future standardized tests would drop a little bit due to his absence. I'd also like to think that if he had known he was the top student, he would have been inspired to remain in school and become something else besides a drop out employee at the refinery.
When I was attending Artesia High School, we appeared to have a very excessive drop out rate. When the school year started in 1979, there were more than 300 students in my sophomore class. When I graduated in 1982, there were less than 200 of us who received diplomas. That meant we lost more than one-third of our original class.
At the time, the Artesia school system had no qualms about holding back students a grade if they failed classes. Many of them did not move beyond 10th grade from the previous year, so this actually added to our number, which more than made up for those who were left behind in the ninth grade. Add to this that the age at which someone could drop out in New Mexico in the early 1980s was 16. A lot of students turn 16 during sophomore year. (I didn't turn 16 until the early part of my junior year. My birthday is in September.)
Why were so many students dropping out? When I went to school, it looked like some of the students weren't even trying to get a passing grade. Apparently, many of the boys were the sons of drop outs who worked at the refinery. They were probably told, once it was determined they were not going to be starters on the high school football team, that they didn't need to worry about making good grades in school or impressing the teachers. All they had to do was wait until they were 16, drop out and then work at the refinery. Right away, they would start making more money than the teachers.
Other drop outs went to work for the City of Artesia. I remember one student who couldn't add two plus two in class. Two weeks later, I saw him operating a backhoe on a city street. I can't operate a backhoe. How did he learn to do this when he couldn't learn simple math? (It boils down to being able to learn how to do something you're interested in. I guess he was far more interested in construction equipment.)
So, why the accusatory title of this post? Well, I suspect that school officials were actually encouraging students to drop out. I know one person in my class who came out of the guidance counselor's office one day. He said that he was told he didn't need to come back to school. He had cut several classes and had poor grades, so they said he might be able to work at the refinery and pointed him in the direction of the state employment office located next to the Circle K. (Everyone who works at the refinery has to go there to get a job because the refinery is on Federal land.)
This made me start to wonder if the school was getting some form of kickback from the refinery for referring our drop outs to go work there. Even though Artesia is a small town, the high school had a lot of nice facilities, including a bowl football stadium, natatorium and auditorium, all of which had been built in the previous 15 years. Even the larger schools in Roswell, Carlsbad and Hobbs had nowhere near the amenities that we had. Again, I don't have any proof, but it wouldn't surprise me to find out the school got money for every student they sent over to the refinery. There may have also been similar rewards for those students who wound up working for the City that were probably channeled from the refinery.
This, if true, would only be part of the scam. The other part would be falsifying attendance records. Since we were a school in a podunk town, it wouldn't be unusual for the state board of education to not pay attention to us. I didn't even think about this until I saw the movie "Pump Up the Volume." In that movie (Spoiler alert!), it is discovered that the principal was suspending students, but reporting them as present in order to receive more money from the state. Imagine my school telling the state that more than 100 students, most of whom were experiencing attendance issues beforehand, all started coming back to school every day until the end of the school year and then decided over the summer they weren't coming back. This is the part that seems implausible. However, I remember that outside the offices of the guidance counselors, they had these posters with cartoons that urged students to stay in school. But at the same time, as it appeared with the boy mentioned above, they were actively promoting dropping out as a viable option.
Regardless of whether there were scams associated with the school drop out rate, I have to admit that it was, in part, a good thing. Most of the potential drop outs had a tendency to be disruptive in class and took valuable time away from the teacher. By the time I was a senior, that issue practically disappeared.
However, I know of at least one drawback from when I was in school: In the tenth grade, we had to take a standardized test. We didn't get the results of that test until junior year. One of the things they found out was that the student from our class with the highest score had already dropped out of school. I'm guessing he skipped a lot of classes the year before and was "encouraged" to work at the refinery. I'd like to think that the school officials were kicking themselves because losing him as a student meant that the class average on future standardized tests would drop a little bit due to his absence. I'd also like to think that if he had known he was the top student, he would have been inspired to remain in school and become something else besides a drop out employee at the refinery.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Advance rejection
Even though I was desparate for a girlfriend in high school, I still had standards for the kind of girl I was willing to date. As I have previously mentioned, I was looking to team up with someone smart. The girls I most wanted to date were among the top students in school. I wanted someone who would complement my mental abilities. However, the smartest girls also happened to be among the most attractive and sure weren't going to look to me to complement them. Even the ones closer to my league lookswise paid me no attention. They would ALL rather date the Alpha males, even the boys who were C students. (You had to maintain at least a C average in all your classes to participate in school sports. Many boys just did the bare minimum so they could concentrate more on their ability to play.)
The point I'm trying to get to is that every once in awhile, I would find that there were girls who appeared to be interested in me. The only problem was that NONE OF THEM MET MY STANDARD FOR APPARENT INTELLIGENCE. I had already made that mistake once before. I didn't want to do it again just for the sake of saying that I had a girlfriend.
One of these girls was Wynd. Wynd was a junior. She was in choir. She was tall and thin. She had long, dark red hair, freckles and dimples. She had a pleasant personality and was someone I was friendly with. She was actually attractive, but was someone my mother might say "has nothing wrong with her." I never saw her as a potential girlfriend.
During one of the choir's performances of "The Music Man," I was sitting on a bench backstage with couple of other people. She came and sat down beside me. She asked me, "Is it okay if I just sit here and flirt with you for awhile?" She started touching my shoulders. I started experiencing the feelings I used to have when I was around my ex-girlfriend. I wasn't certain if I was enjoying this.
I quickly stood up and walked away without saying anything to Wynd. I went to the other side of the auditorium. I had so many things to sort out in my head. I tried to figure out if Wynd was someone I wanted to hook up with. I mean, I liked her, but not like that. Not only was she not a good student, she wasn't a good singer in choir. If she had some semblance of talent, I could at least go with that, but she didn't, so she really didn't have anything to offer me, except the status of dating a junior. But I had already dated a senior, so that was like a step down for me.
I also didn't know what the immediate impact of me walking away was going to be. I was afraid she was going to try something again and I didn't know what I would do or what I would allow to happen. Would I let things go a little further? Would she do something to make me desire her more? Would I change my mind and actually start pursuing her?
But I think the main problem I had was that I was very much interested in someone else I thought I had a chance with: Dayz. I've mentioned her in previous posts, and she may have seemed like someone I only touched base with a couple of times, but there was a lot more that got to happen.
While Wynd and I remained friendly with each other at school for the next year, we never did talk about that incident again. I don't know if she felt hurt or rejected. I hope that she knew that the problem was me and not her.
My senior year, her mother was one of my co-workers at the women's clothing store. She popped in from time to time and we would exchange pleasantries. After I quit that job in the summer of 1982, I never saw her again. I wasn't able to locate her on-line. Some girls are going to be like that. I think many of them never list their maiden names and that's why I can't find them. In a future post, you'll find that Dayz is one of them.
The point I'm trying to get to is that every once in awhile, I would find that there were girls who appeared to be interested in me. The only problem was that NONE OF THEM MET MY STANDARD FOR APPARENT INTELLIGENCE. I had already made that mistake once before. I didn't want to do it again just for the sake of saying that I had a girlfriend.
One of these girls was Wynd. Wynd was a junior. She was in choir. She was tall and thin. She had long, dark red hair, freckles and dimples. She had a pleasant personality and was someone I was friendly with. She was actually attractive, but was someone my mother might say "has nothing wrong with her." I never saw her as a potential girlfriend.
During one of the choir's performances of "The Music Man," I was sitting on a bench backstage with couple of other people. She came and sat down beside me. She asked me, "Is it okay if I just sit here and flirt with you for awhile?" She started touching my shoulders. I started experiencing the feelings I used to have when I was around my ex-girlfriend. I wasn't certain if I was enjoying this.
I quickly stood up and walked away without saying anything to Wynd. I went to the other side of the auditorium. I had so many things to sort out in my head. I tried to figure out if Wynd was someone I wanted to hook up with. I mean, I liked her, but not like that. Not only was she not a good student, she wasn't a good singer in choir. If she had some semblance of talent, I could at least go with that, but she didn't, so she really didn't have anything to offer me, except the status of dating a junior. But I had already dated a senior, so that was like a step down for me.
I also didn't know what the immediate impact of me walking away was going to be. I was afraid she was going to try something again and I didn't know what I would do or what I would allow to happen. Would I let things go a little further? Would she do something to make me desire her more? Would I change my mind and actually start pursuing her?
But I think the main problem I had was that I was very much interested in someone else I thought I had a chance with: Dayz. I've mentioned her in previous posts, and she may have seemed like someone I only touched base with a couple of times, but there was a lot more that got to happen.
While Wynd and I remained friendly with each other at school for the next year, we never did talk about that incident again. I don't know if she felt hurt or rejected. I hope that she knew that the problem was me and not her.
My senior year, her mother was one of my co-workers at the women's clothing store. She popped in from time to time and we would exchange pleasantries. After I quit that job in the summer of 1982, I never saw her again. I wasn't able to locate her on-line. Some girls are going to be like that. I think many of them never list their maiden names and that's why I can't find them. In a future post, you'll find that Dayz is one of them.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Forced to escort a loser
A little backtrack here: During our school's winter break, one of the teachers passed away. He taught Distributive Education and oversaw the school's Distributive Education Clubs of America chapter, otherwise known as DECA. Even though I took the class my senior year, I was never really quite certain what the "Distributive" aspect was. Mostly, it was about how to work and do your job when you went out in the real world. You also learned a lot of useless statistics that were likely quickly forgotten as soon as your received your diploma.
The teacher was also a professional photographer and had worked at my Aunt Cind's wedding just 3 1/2 months prior. I had previously heard stories about him getting "up close and personal" to the bride and groom during the vow exchanges. It was no different at Cind and Jid's wedding. He was there, right in plain sight. Everybody at the weddings he worked remembers him clearly, but as he never shows up in the wedding photos (and this was before video recordings were done of weddings), anybody not at the wedding would ever know he was there.
After he died, the school asked my mother to take over the DECA program. Mom had taken some business classes in college, but wasn't really certain she would be able to handle the material. However, by my senior year, she had it mastered. I will write about that later.
One of the things that the club had every spring was a pageant to name the DECA Sweetheart of the year. It wasn't like a regular beauty contest. There was no swimsuit competition or talent display. The local clothing stores would allow the contestants to use some of the latest styles as a sort of fashion show of casual and evening wear. The contestants were determined by a popular vote of the club members. The top ten girls got to participate.
That particular year, they may not have had a good crop of girls to choose from. One was this shy girl named Jand. Jand was overweight and wasn't a very good student. I knew her because she was in choir. However, I also knew her as the older sister of one of my biggest crushes: Lyz.
Lyz was in my class. She was very smart, thin and very attractive. She was the virtual opposite of Jand. However, the one thing she had in common with her was that she was shy. (Interestingly enough, Lyz tried out for cheerleader a couple of times, but she had a problem ramping up the decibels in her voice. You had to struggle to hear her do yell routines in the gym.)
When you got right down to it, Jand was actually rather pretty. She was just noticeably overweight. The one cool thing about her was that she drove a purple 50's era Thunderbird to school, and the rear turn signals with the sequential lights were still functioning.
I guess she felt really uncomfortable about taking part in the pageant and was trying to get out of it. She told my Mom that she couldn't do it because she was unable to get an escort for the final presentation. My Mom said, "Well, I guess I'll have to ask Fayd to escort you." She said, "Oh, no! I think I can find someone." Well, I guess she couldn't, because my Mom still had to get me to be her escort. I really didn't want to do that, but I thought that maybe there was a chance that Lyz might see me doing her sister a favor and might like me a little better. (Spoiler alert: That didn't happen.) I'm just surprised Mom forced Jand to take part since she obviously didn't want to do it. She probably told her that her grade depended on it. That would not have been a good move on Mom's part.
One of the things the escort had to do, if the contestant won, was place the tiara on her head and give her a kiss on the lips. I was 100% certain that Jand was not going to win, but this part still made me feel uneasy. (Really, I didn't need Lyz watching me kiss her sister. Spoiler alert: That didn't happen, either.)
I had told a friend of mine that I was going to have to escort Lyz' sister for the pageant. He said, "Wow! Lyz' sister? You should ask her out!" He likely had never met her.
About a week before the pageant, I was in the Choir class. We were rehearsing for our production of "The Music Man." I was playing the part of Marcellus Washburn. During class, other members were practicing a number that I was not a part of. I sat on one side of the risers watching them practice. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jand on the other side. I shifted my focus on her without turning my head. I saw her doing the exact same thing to me. I knew what was going through her mind: "I really don't want to be seen with you at the pageant. People will think you're my boyfriend. That will embarrass me the most." Yes, EVERYBODY thought I was a loser.
The interesting thing was that all the other contestants had Alpha males as their escorts. Since I was the only sophomore among the seniors, I looked like a little kid next to them. (The next year, Mom declared that the escorts had to be members of DECA.)
The other escorts were pretty cool and included me in their group conversations during practice. We talked about the Winter Olympics. I said I preferred the Summer games. That was funny because we knew we weren't going to get to watch them because President Carter made the decision to boycott the Russian games in 1980.
During the pageant, Jand looked very uncomfortable. I was surprised she made it through the evening with her emotions intact. As expected, she did not win. (Whew!) I did not run into Lyz after the pageant. I don't even know if she was there. Since I had auditorium duties, I had to tend to those after the pageant and did not get to mingle.
At graduation, Jand was the last female to receive her diploma. Her walking partner was the absolute last person to get his. I never saw Jand again after she graduated in 1980. From my Internet searches, it appears she still lives in Artesia and may have never gotten married.
My senior year, I was going door-to-door selling some stuff for choir. I came to one door and knocked. Lyz answered the door. "Oh, hi, Lyz! I didn't know you live here!" "Well, I actually don't. I'm doing some babysitting." It's the one time that any conversation I had with her was not awkward and we seemed to be like two civilized people who got along okay. It's too bad we didn't have more moments like that.
Lyz did get married and became an attorney. She also still lives in Artesia. I'm surprised at that, because I thought she was destined for so much more. I actually thought she was as anxious to get out of Artesia as I was. She did, after all, attend college and law school in Texas. I guess I was wrong. I can only imagine that it's possible to be ultra-smart and ultra-stuck-on-your-hometown.
In my post about my friend Orld, I wrote how I saw him a few days before the 10 year high school reunion, but I didn't go. He did. A few months later, I saw him again in Artesia. He showed me the group photo of those who attended. Lyz was not in the photo. At the time of the event, I thought if I went, it would only be so I could see her. It turned out it was a good decision not to go.
The teacher was also a professional photographer and had worked at my Aunt Cind's wedding just 3 1/2 months prior. I had previously heard stories about him getting "up close and personal" to the bride and groom during the vow exchanges. It was no different at Cind and Jid's wedding. He was there, right in plain sight. Everybody at the weddings he worked remembers him clearly, but as he never shows up in the wedding photos (and this was before video recordings were done of weddings), anybody not at the wedding would ever know he was there.
After he died, the school asked my mother to take over the DECA program. Mom had taken some business classes in college, but wasn't really certain she would be able to handle the material. However, by my senior year, she had it mastered. I will write about that later.
One of the things that the club had every spring was a pageant to name the DECA Sweetheart of the year. It wasn't like a regular beauty contest. There was no swimsuit competition or talent display. The local clothing stores would allow the contestants to use some of the latest styles as a sort of fashion show of casual and evening wear. The contestants were determined by a popular vote of the club members. The top ten girls got to participate.
That particular year, they may not have had a good crop of girls to choose from. One was this shy girl named Jand. Jand was overweight and wasn't a very good student. I knew her because she was in choir. However, I also knew her as the older sister of one of my biggest crushes: Lyz.
Lyz was in my class. She was very smart, thin and very attractive. She was the virtual opposite of Jand. However, the one thing she had in common with her was that she was shy. (Interestingly enough, Lyz tried out for cheerleader a couple of times, but she had a problem ramping up the decibels in her voice. You had to struggle to hear her do yell routines in the gym.)
When you got right down to it, Jand was actually rather pretty. She was just noticeably overweight. The one cool thing about her was that she drove a purple 50's era Thunderbird to school, and the rear turn signals with the sequential lights were still functioning.
I guess she felt really uncomfortable about taking part in the pageant and was trying to get out of it. She told my Mom that she couldn't do it because she was unable to get an escort for the final presentation. My Mom said, "Well, I guess I'll have to ask Fayd to escort you." She said, "Oh, no! I think I can find someone." Well, I guess she couldn't, because my Mom still had to get me to be her escort. I really didn't want to do that, but I thought that maybe there was a chance that Lyz might see me doing her sister a favor and might like me a little better. (Spoiler alert: That didn't happen.) I'm just surprised Mom forced Jand to take part since she obviously didn't want to do it. She probably told her that her grade depended on it. That would not have been a good move on Mom's part.
One of the things the escort had to do, if the contestant won, was place the tiara on her head and give her a kiss on the lips. I was 100% certain that Jand was not going to win, but this part still made me feel uneasy. (Really, I didn't need Lyz watching me kiss her sister. Spoiler alert: That didn't happen, either.)
I had told a friend of mine that I was going to have to escort Lyz' sister for the pageant. He said, "Wow! Lyz' sister? You should ask her out!" He likely had never met her.
About a week before the pageant, I was in the Choir class. We were rehearsing for our production of "The Music Man." I was playing the part of Marcellus Washburn. During class, other members were practicing a number that I was not a part of. I sat on one side of the risers watching them practice. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jand on the other side. I shifted my focus on her without turning my head. I saw her doing the exact same thing to me. I knew what was going through her mind: "I really don't want to be seen with you at the pageant. People will think you're my boyfriend. That will embarrass me the most." Yes, EVERYBODY thought I was a loser.
The interesting thing was that all the other contestants had Alpha males as their escorts. Since I was the only sophomore among the seniors, I looked like a little kid next to them. (The next year, Mom declared that the escorts had to be members of DECA.)
The other escorts were pretty cool and included me in their group conversations during practice. We talked about the Winter Olympics. I said I preferred the Summer games. That was funny because we knew we weren't going to get to watch them because President Carter made the decision to boycott the Russian games in 1980.
During the pageant, Jand looked very uncomfortable. I was surprised she made it through the evening with her emotions intact. As expected, she did not win. (Whew!) I did not run into Lyz after the pageant. I don't even know if she was there. Since I had auditorium duties, I had to tend to those after the pageant and did not get to mingle.
At graduation, Jand was the last female to receive her diploma. Her walking partner was the absolute last person to get his. I never saw Jand again after she graduated in 1980. From my Internet searches, it appears she still lives in Artesia and may have never gotten married.
My senior year, I was going door-to-door selling some stuff for choir. I came to one door and knocked. Lyz answered the door. "Oh, hi, Lyz! I didn't know you live here!" "Well, I actually don't. I'm doing some babysitting." It's the one time that any conversation I had with her was not awkward and we seemed to be like two civilized people who got along okay. It's too bad we didn't have more moments like that.
Lyz did get married and became an attorney. She also still lives in Artesia. I'm surprised at that, because I thought she was destined for so much more. I actually thought she was as anxious to get out of Artesia as I was. She did, after all, attend college and law school in Texas. I guess I was wrong. I can only imagine that it's possible to be ultra-smart and ultra-stuck-on-your-hometown.
In my post about my friend Orld, I wrote how I saw him a few days before the 10 year high school reunion, but I didn't go. He did. A few months later, I saw him again in Artesia. He showed me the group photo of those who attended. Lyz was not in the photo. At the time of the event, I thought if I went, it would only be so I could see her. It turned out it was a good decision not to go.
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