"Hail the Green and White…"

Angst! That’s really a great way to describe my high school years, filled with angst! I started writing bad poetry, feeling rebellious, and listening to rock music. The amusing thing is, my parent’s thought me nearly out of control, and peers thought I was very uncool. Go figure!

I learned the hard way, and rather quickly, that you are what you are. I had changed from going to the Hackettstown Public Schools, to Phillipsburg Catholic High School (because we had moved) and I didn’t know any of these kids. I went into high school thinking, "I’ll lay back. I won’t answer all the questions. I won’t let them peg me as the brain right away." Yeah right! That lasted about a week.

I was lucky enough, though, to find some teachers who really motivated me…on the other hand, I also had classes that I could goof off in or literally sleep through. No lie – there I am in freshman science class, my head propped up on a slide rule (calculators were expensive back then!) dozing through class. I had learned how to catnap from my dad, so I was listening to what was going on, but my eyes were closed and I looked asleep. In an attempt to catch me off guard, the teacher asked me a question and pegged me to answer it. I half opened one eye, answered the question, and went back to my catnap. The teacher never did that to me again, and yes, I got an A in the course. I also ran D&D games in class during history (in the words of the teacher, "He knows more history than I do" – but he was a great basketball coach) and English sophomore year.

Unlike a lot of the "smart kids", though, I actually had to work for some of those grades, especially in math and chemistry. I was lucky enough to have great math teachers , Br. James, and Sr. Myrona, and a great chem teacher, Mrs. Ganapathy. She also taught me how to deal with an Indian accent before I got to college! My math classes junior and senior years were especially rough because Sr. Myrona taught "college style". She lectured and told us when the tests were, but we had to figure out what homework to do! I really sweated those grades, but my dad told me that I’d appreciate her when I got to college, and boy did I!

One of my most fun classes had has to have been honors English, senior year. The focus of the class was English literature, so we did a lot of Bill – I mean Shakespeare – which I had always enjoyed and I also had this uncanny ability to have papers arrive fully formed in my head. It was like I was taking dictation from my subconscious. We had lots of lively discussions ranging from the symbolism of the witches in "MacBeth", to what Lewis Carroll was on when he wrote Alice in Wonderland. One thing I will never forget, though, is Mrs. Goodhart telling me that, in all of her years of teaching, she had never seen worse handwriting. I kind of liked that.

I did none of the social things. No sports. No band. No play. No dances. PC, like any other high school I guess, was very clique-y, and I didn’t fit any of them. I knew folks from all the cliques, and was actually pretty friendly with them, but I didn’t fit into any of them either. Aside from the usual "popular", "jock", and "party" crowds, we also had "the band", and regional cliques, since we were bused in. I was Anthony Michael Hall in The Breakfast Club…but sometimes I really wanted to be Judd Nelson.

By late junior year I had learned that as one of the "good kids", I could push the system. I was one of the top students, never caused any trouble, and in the National Brownie – err Honor – Society. I didn’t shave and grew my hair long, which was a big no-no in a Catholic school. My best friend and I would get to school early and leave before classes started and either we’d just drive around P’burg, or we’d go down to the Dunkin Donuts. We were usually back by homeroom, but sometimes we were a little late. Nothing! When my hair got a little too long, and the curls hung over the collar, the assistant principle would "suggest" I get a haircut.

Ah yes, my best friend. Carla and I started hanging out sometime sophomore year, though she claims she carried my books while I was on crutches at the end of freshman year. We’d talk for hours, pass notes in class and most of the school was convinced we were a couple, but that was never the case. I tutored her through chem, and she became a chemical engineer. Sometimes after school I’d give her rides to work, and she was probably the first person for whom I became an amateur psychologist. We’re still close. At the end of junior year, she hatched this idea that she wanted to be editor of the yearbook, but she didn’t want to do it alone. So she convinces me, sucker for a pretty face that I am, to be co-editor with her. Why not, how hard can it be? What I still don’t understand is how we convinced Mrs. Goodhart, the yearbook moderator!

Carla and I brainstormed some ideas during the summer, and when senior year hit, we were ready to roll. We had a great staff, and great section editors. I got to do some photography, and got to get out of classes I didn’t want to go to do page layouts. Pretty early on, though, Carla’s work schedule made it so she couldn’t make meetings, so we’d discuss ideas while I was driving her to work and then I’d represent them at the yearbook meetings. Mrs. G was pretty peeved about it all, and really depended on me to get things done. She may have seen me as the lone editor, but I wouldn’t have been there without Carla. Best of all, I think the class liked the yearbook.

I never dated anyone in my high school, though I later found out that Liza wanted to go to the Prom with me, as much as I wanted to go with her! I did go out with a girl from the Baker Chemical Science Seminars, Mary Lou, and a girl I worked with at McDonald’s, Janie. I also got to see "the band" clique in action as I hitched a ride back from DC where I was attending a political seminar. Sean and I used to hit a few of those a year, he the flaming liberal, and I the raving conservative – it was a blast. I had a friendly competition with the kids ahead of me in class, Chris, Anthony, Mike, and Kathy. Had a lot of fun with Scott during graduation rehearsals, and as of the last reunion he and I both attended, he still liked to tell the "beer run for Bober at Wildwood" story. But of all the people from the era, Carla is the only one I’ve kept close contact with.

I guess some comment should be made about Wildwood.  As is traditional for high school students here in New Jersey, after graduation "Senior Week" was spent in Wildwood and you can extrapolate from the name what kind of time it is supposed to be.  I will admit that I had an incredibly good time.  No, not as good as the name would imply, but it was blast none the less.  We met some interesting folks from other schools, some of whom are in the picture.  I couldn't tell you names, but it didn't really matter.  I got wickedly sunburned a couple of days after arrival...something about going to a water park and hanging out on the beach without sunscreen!  After that I spent a couple of days only going out at night.  Other than that, I'd just lie there with the air conditioning way up and try to forget how much it hurt.  The beer run story comes in here, as was Liza's shocking revelation.  It was a good chance to "let it all hang out" - getting kicked off a pier for racing the go-carts too long - and for the people who were there, their perception of me changed forever.

One more comment about these years – "the beast". "The beast" was my vehicle during my high school years. It wasn’t really mine, but I used it to get back and forth to school and work. It was a 1974 green Toyota pickup truck. I loved that thing! I rigged a tape deck in the glove compartment with a couple of speakers that sat on the floor (my mother hated them!!), and I was set. It wasn’t a "cool" vehicle by any stretch, but it was a fun vehicle. It got me home through rain, sleet, snow, and ice, and could go fast enough that I could be foolish. I could roll down the windows and play "Moving Pictures" very loud. What more could a guy want!

Go back...