So, after that crazy story about my elementary school, you’d think that would be enough for one day… but you’d be wrong! Once all of our treasures were gathered, stowed away, and the doors to the Multi-Purpose room were locked, and the last of our classmates had slowly scattered,
“Bye bye Peter, Angie, Ben, Carrie, Jim, Dorothy, Mrs. Paul!”
that left Downtown Dad and me, and Jim and his two adorable kids, all of us still grinning like goofs, congratulating each other on a job well done. And while the success of the day was absolutely reward in itself, the original plan had included beer. Being the detail oriented person that I am, I was not about to leave off part of the original plan.
Here we are enjoying a lovely IPA Pope, ordered specifically by Jim, according to my preference for a “chewy” beer. DD, meanwhile savored a White Star (I think), anyhow, something light. He was pretty impressed with Jim’s ability to point out the flavors and talk about the brewing process, dubbing him “O-beer-wan Kenobi” for the rest of our trip.
Now Downtown Dad, being a “sipper,” can make one beer last longer than a vote in Congress, while I tend to “swill” when I drink. Hence the opportunity to have packed away half an order of delicious duck-fat fries, and two beers when we bid O-beer-wan farewell, and headed out across the freeway to our next adventure – DD wanted to experience my old high school.
Please let me preface this portion of the adventure by saying that if DD and I met in high school, we would not be the epitome of happy midwestern married couple we are today. He was, I am sorry to tell you, a Yell Leader, which is the male equivalent of a Cheerleader.
Dos Pueblos High School – or Hippie High, as it was called in the 60s and 70s – my alma mater. Ok, honestly, I really don’t even know what alma mater means, presumably something having to do with school spirit, and fight songs, neither of which could I draw out of the dark recesses of my brain, unless by spirit you mean alcohol, in which case showing up at school half-buzzed was not a new experience for me. Shocking. I know. Some things never change… but some things were a little different…
This is where my locker USED to be.
This was Mr. Mooy’s biology class. Mr. Mooy, otherwise know as Reporter #1, is immortalized for his Oscar-worthy delivery of the line “Ok boys, let’s get some pictures” in the film Airplane. Great teacher, pronouced Wednesday “WED-ins-day.” Weird what you remember.
The transom window over the door to Mr. Petrini’s English class. He was famous for always asking for “collateral” if you needed to borrow a pencil. On the last day of school, I gathered a fistful of pencils and threw them through that transom yelling “collateral!” I thought it was hilarious. Maybe you had to be there.
The Greek Theatre – pep rallys… again with the spirit thing.
Recreating lunchtime… although back then there would have been a little less of the lonely old lady, and a little more of the Rebel Without A Cause, portrayed in this scene.
“The field” minus the lemon-chuckers… and me without a smoke~! At some point, they built this bleacher apparatus… apparently people sometimes sit on the tops of these things to watch sports competitions… I wouldn’t know, I’m much more familiar with this view.
So, feeling like the host of Amazing Stories, having taken my honey on an odyssey of my school years 1 thru 12, we still had one more story yet to unfold….
One that includes Bluebirds, Facebook, Genealogy, and a little dash of Serendipity!