From the Class of '66 to The Twilight Zone

Rod Serling
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

SACRAMENTO, Calif. - Rod Serling, creator of The Twilight Zone, called Binghamton, New York his home town and legend has it drank in the bars not far from where I've been spending my summers.

He was quite short, but drank like a longshoreman and some people still remember him around the saloons bordering Cayuga Lake - or at least claim they do. Perhaps Ward Romer can do some research for me, he lives in the area.

So what twisted path led me to Rod Serling for this page?

Well, Pam Carr sent me one of those nostalgia links that is just fabulous. It's similar to some of the email lists/jokes that make their way around from time to time, but this has music, photos and lots of funny stuff to read. The music alone is worth logging on for.

And one of the photos flashing on a TV screen is the late Rod Serling himself.

Check out the link here:

Blast from the past

The Twilight Zone was one of my must-see TV shows in the 60s, right there with Star Trek and I Spy. In fact, that might encompass everything I watched. I think we only got three TV channels at my house, depending on how bad it was snowing. And is snowed a lot, I remember.

And on Saturday nights my grandmother (known to my friends as Shotgun, but that's a longer story) would insist on watching The Lawrence Welk Show, a sure way to drive all the teenagers out of the house, their hands covering their ears.

Today's song isn't exactly a Twilight Zone tune, but it's plenty weird. Rod would approve.

Love Potion Number Nine
The Searchers

(Written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller)

I took my troubles down to Madame Ruth
You know that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth
She's got a pad down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine
Sellin' little bottles of Love Potion Number Nine

I told her that I was a flop with chicks
I'd been this way since 1956
She looked at my palm and she made a magic sign
She said "What you need is Love Potion Number Nine"

She bent down and turned around and gave me a wink
She said "I'm gonna make it up right here in the sink"
It smelled like turpentine, it looked like India Ink*
I held my nose, I closed my eyes, I took a drink

I didn't know if it was day or night
I started kissin' everything in sight
But when I kissed a cop down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine
He broke my little bottle of Love Potion Number Nine

------ guitar solo ------

I held my nose, I closed my eyes, I took a drink

I didn't know if it was day or night
I started kissin' everything in sight
But when I kissed a cop down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine
He broke my little bottle of Love Potion Number Nine
Love Potion Number Nine
Love Potion Number Nine
Love Potion Number Nine

When Regents exams ruled the world and ...

SWCS schedule for week of June 13-17
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

JAMESTOWN, New York - Surfing past the SWCS page I saw the schedule that was posted back nearly a month ago, with the dreaded Regents exams prominently posted.

I remember feeling the same sense of dread when one of those exams was near that I get now when I find an envelope in the mail that says IRS.

Some of those tests, I did well on: history, English. Math & science, well, not so hot, though I remember slamming the physics Regents test. (If there wasn't a Regents exam in physics, please don't tell me. It's such a nice memory...)

In California, we have a big debate going about the high school exit exam which basically tests students at about an 8th grade level (that's 8th grade today, which believe me is not the 8th grade we went through with Mrs. Dennison for math).

The public, well, ok, a segment of the public, says if these kids don't pass the test - and get a diploma - they won't get a job in our booming California service economy. I mean, who the hell is going to wait on people at Starbuck's? You certainly need a high school certification for that.

I do remember that we had a two-tiered system: a Regents diploma and another diploma that didn't requiring passing all those damned exams. I was led to believe that without a Regent's diploma, that getting into college wasn't a possibility. (Ooooh! They lied!) Had I been even half alert, I would've realized that junior colleges and out-of-state universities didn't care as much as NY State schools about these all-important Regents.

I've supported the high school exit exam here in California, even written a few opinion pieces about it for newspapers (Opinions, moi?) but the kicker I always put in - that tends to really tick people off - is that I believe the students should be allowed to take the test in Spanish or English.

Hell, they can take it in both if think they can pass it.

I get quite a bit of hate mail when I bring it up.

Were there Regents exams in our foreign language classes?

If there were, add French to my short list of Regent's exam disasters. But mercifully enough, I just can't remember at all.

Mon dieu!

Those injuries we faced - and face again

knee brace - hi tech version
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

SACRAMENTO, Calif. - My knees have never been quite the same since Track Coach Joe Rushin made us run around every spring on those hard concrete floors at SWCS while we waited for the snow to melt off the track.

Added to that annual knee trauma was two years of football hits and four years of twisting on the wrestling mats.

Still, I was in my 30s before I started having trouble and learned from my various docs that running on concrete, getting mashed in football game pileups and having someone twist your leg like a pretzel can have longterm ramifications.

No duh, right?

So since then, I've pretty much ignored the kind of aches and pains that come from my knees, adjusting to the fact that I can't move to my left when I play tennis and running on hard surfaces is out completely.

But these old injuries crop up at weird times, which is why I'm shopping online for a hi-tech knee brace. The one with today's blog looks pretty cool. It might even work.

Dancing at a party last week, doing the Twist and God-knows-what-other dances, I was inspired to twist all the way down to the floor, and, perhaps because of the copious volume of Merlot consumed, to stand back up - repeatedly. If my knees hurt at the time, I don't really know. But in the days after, I doubt I could have beaten Chester from Gunsmoke in a footrace and this morning, after being cramped on three planes in a cross-country journey, I'm stalking around the condo like Ahab looking for the white whale.

But I'm already planning my rehab so I can reinjure myself, er, I mean be safe, next year at the reunion, when we can all dance like crazy and then compare what's left of our knees, elbows and shins.

Today's song is not from the 1960s. But I think is sums up how I feel today anyway.

==============

"As Good As I Once Was"
By Toby Keith

She said, "I'e seen you in here before."
I said, "I've been here a time or two."
She said, "Hello, my
Name is Bobby Jo
Meet my twin sister Betty Lou
And we're both feeling kinda wild tonight
And you're the only cowboy in this place
And if you're up for a rodeo
We'll put a big Texas smile on
Your face"
I said, "Girls,"

[Chorus]
I ain't as good as I once was
I got a few years on me now
But there was a time back in my prime

When I could really lay it down
And if you need some love tonight
Then I might have just enough
I ain't as good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was

I still hang out with my best friend dave
Ive known him since we were kids at school
Last night he
Had a few shots
Got in a tight spot hustlin' a game of pool
With a couple of readneck boys
One great
Big bad biker man
I heard David yell across the room
"Hey buddy, how 'bout a helping hand."
I said, "Dave,"

[Chorus]
I ain't as good as I once was
My how the years have flown
But there was a time back in my prime

When I could really hold my own
But if you wanna fight tonight
Guess thouse boys dont look all that
Tough
I ain't as good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was

I used to be hell on wheels
Back when I was younger man
Now my body says, "You can't do this boy"

But my pride says, "Oh, yes you can

I ain't as good as I once was
Thats just the cold hard truth
I still throw a few back, talk a little smack
When I'm feelin bullet proof
So don't double dog dare me now
'Cause I'd have to call your bluff

I ain't as good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was
Maybe not be good as I once was
But I'm as good once as I ever was

Another vintage shot, Mrs. Tarbrake's class

English 1963 - with Nellie Tarbrake
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

JAMESTOWN, NY - I missed the Tarbrake experience in 9th grade. I had Mrs. Pascuillo (sp?) who was quite pleasant, though not nearly as supportive as a Mr. Coleman from 8th grade.

Mr. Coleman was really into fiction and whatever I wrote, he praised highly and made me read for the entire class. He only lasted a year or two, I believe. Although not a very large fellow, he had a grip like a vise and more than one male in the class felt Mr. Coleman's hand on the back of their neck if they were not paying attention. One fellow - I can only remember that his first name was Ralph - got his face smashed down on the surface of the desk when he muttered 'asshole' in reference to Mr. Coleman, not knowing Coleman was standing right behind him.

Ralph left class with a bloody nose and I'm not sure Mr. Coleman was there the next fall.

But neither was Ralph.

I don't remember what we read in 9th grade, certainly no Shakespeare. In fact, I'm not sure I remember reading any Shakespeare in high school. Villanova required reading most of Shakespeare's plays, four or five per semester. No wonder I wanted to drop out and go to Mexico.

And writing essays that year with a ball point pen! I hated (and hate) writing anything with a pen, other than taking notes. When I was a junior in high school, after completing Mrs. King's typing class, my mother bought me a typewriter and the rest is history. Gawd that typing class was awful, too, but to this day I can type like a demon if I need to. I remember taking a speed reading class, too. That class was useful in the long run. Just yesterday I had to write a 500-word story about a 40-page report on student enrollments at California colleges. I scanned the report and did my 500 words in under an hour. Later this morning I'll read it to see if it makes any sense.

Today's song is one of the sillier ones we heard in 1963. But damn, I actually remember most of the lyrics.

Tie Me Kangaroo Down Sport
by Rolf Harris

SPOKEN:
There's an old Australian stockman lying, dying. He gets himself up
onto one elbow and 'e turns to his mates, who are all gathered around and 'e says:

Watch me wallabies feed, mate
Watch me wallabies feed,
They're a dangerous breed, mate
So watch me wallabies feed
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

Keep me cockatoo cool, Curl,
Keep me cockatoo cool
Ah, don't go acting the fool, Curl
Just keep me cockatoo cool
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

'n' take me koala back, Jack
Take me koala back
He lives somewhere out on the track, Mac
So take me koala back
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

Let me abos go loose, Lew
Let me abos go loose
They're of no further use, Lew
So let me abos go loose
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

And mind me platypus duck, Bill
Mind me platypus duck
Ah, don't let 'im go running amok, Bill
Just mind me platypus duck
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

Play your didgeridoo, Blue
Play your didgeridoo
Ah, like, keep playin' 'til I shoot thru, Blue
Play your didgeridoo
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

Tan me hide when I'm dead, Fred
Tan me hide when I'm dead
So we tanned his hide when he died, Clyde
And that's it hangin' on the shed!!
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

Does anyone remember Jack Rose?

Shop class -1961
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

JAMESTOWN, NY - In 7th or 8th grade, many of us had a mechanical drawing teacher named Jack Rose who wore glasses that were so thick, they gave new meaning to the expression Coke-bottle lenses.

But I remember a little refrain we used to chant, quietly, about him:

Jack Rose sat on a tack,
Jack Rose

I'm sorry Jack, but it still makes me laugh.

Shop classes in general weren't much fun for me, though when Douglas Brandow dropped an entire drawer of type and spent the rest of the semester sorting it, well, that was kind of amusing in a sad way.

But mechanical drawing was different, and when I have to build something I tend to sketch things out - just like Jack Rose taught me.

In one of my newspaper postings, I had to design pages, placing photos and stories and other elements and I quickly learned that the precision mechanical drawing required was needed in newspaper and print production, too.

Jack Rose had kind of a good sense of humor, and named his daughter Seena.

Seena Rose?

Oh boy...

Here's today's song, which has nothing to do with shop class or the photo that Steve Sewell sent around that is posted here. But it's one that should bring back a few stray memories.

Those Oldies But Goodies
by Nino & The Ebb Tides

Those oldies but goodies remind me of you
The songs of the past bring back memories of you
I always remember the first night we met
The songs they were playing
I never will forget

I always will treasure them so close to my heart
They always will haunt me although we're apart
Each time that I hear them a tear's bound to fall
Oh, I love those memories that I, I recall

Those oldies but goodies remind me of you
The songs of the past bring back memories of you
Forever they will haunt me but what can I do

Those oldies but goodies remind me of you

SPOKEN:
"Yes, dear, they are playin' our songs
And they will always remain our songs
And each time that you hear them
I hope that you, too,
Will cherish the wonderful memories that our love once knew
For these songs are but a symbol of the love that I have for you"

Those oldies but goodies remind me of you
(Oldies but goodies remind me of you)

The junior high band, Memorial Day, 1961

Band -1961
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

JAMESTOWN, New York - Steve Sewell not only has joined the email list, he's joined the list of people sending in photos.

Today's photo comes from Steve and here's what he has to say about it:
-----------
This one was from Memorial Day 1961 and was the Junior High Band out in front of the main driveway to the school. The front row is (L to R) Mr. Vorberg (who was only there for a year, I think -- it was Ed Turner's band at the end of the day), Lee Johnson, Greg Batchelder, me (Steve Sewell), and Paul Slocum, and I can't make out who was in the rear rows.
===========

I didn't play a musical instrument in high school - big mistake I realize now - but it didn't fit and I thought I didn't have much musical talent.

So, when I turned 50, I said I three goals: Become fluent in a foreign language, publish one of my novels & learn to play an instrument - any instrument.

Well, I can get by in Spanish ok. My French won't get me the best table in Toulouse, but it's functional. One novel is ready to go if I can find a publisher. And the music? Well, I have an Ipod and download a lot, if that counts.

I tried to learn to play a keyboard some years ago and gave up, eventually giving the keyboard to my granddaughter who isn't too inspired yet to learn it. But she's only seven years old.

So here's today's tune, dedicated to the band:

Artist: Wings Lyrics
'Band on the Run'

Stuck Inside These Four Walls, Sent Inside Forever,
Never Seeing No One Nice Again Like You,
Mama You, Mama You.
If I Ever Get Out Of Here,
Thought Of Giving It All Away
To A Registered Charity.
All I Need Is A Pint A Day
If I Ever Get Out Of Here.

Well, The Rain Exploded With A Mighty Crash As We Fell Into The Sun,
And The First One Said To The Second One There I Hope You're Having Fun.
Band On The Run, Band On The Run.
And The Jailer Man And Sailor Sam Were Searching Every One

For the band on the run, Band on the run, Band on the run, Band on the run

Well, The Undertaker Drew A Heavy Sigh Seeing No One Else Had Come,
And A Bell Was Ringing In The Village Square for the rabbits on the run.
Band On The Run, Band On The Run.
And The Jailer Man And Sailor Sam, were searching every one

For the band on the run, Band on the run, Band on the run, Band on the run

Well, The Night Was Falling As The Desert World began To Settle Down.
In The Town They're Searching For Us Every Where, but We Never W Ill Be Found.
Band on the run, Band on the run

And The County Judge, who held a grudge
Will search for evermore
For the band on the run, Band on the run, Band on the run, Band on the run

1968's Martin Luther King Memorial Race

Jim Carr's latest toy
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

JAMESTOWN, N.Y. - The photo with today's listing is of the two motor vehicles in Jim Carr's Phoenix garage.

He's fond of red, apparently.

And in a few emails back and forth, he reminded me about the 1968 Martin Luther King Memorial Race around Chautaqua Lake. I had my 14-year-old cousin as co-pilot (and to open the beer for me as I drove). He had a tough job holding his own beer without spilling while passing one to me.

I sure would have liked piloting one of Jim's current rigs on that race, but it's hard to slam beer riding a motorcycle.

Here's Jim Carr's account of the race:

========================
By JIM CARR

This is a short story about boys, cars, and how crazy we were, before responsibilities.

To the best of my recollection, this is what happened:

It was a Sunday afternoon, in the spring of 1968... Martin Luther King had been assassinated, and it was some relatively foolish, reckless, and crazy young adults looking for something to do. The next thing was we were racing, and it was called “The Martin Luther King Memorial Race”.

The drivers and their cars:

John Rupp.
Volkswagen Convertible.

Mike Fitzgerald.
A green Triumph Spitfire(top down, of course).

Bud Hooper.
A blue Chevrolet Camaro.

Jim Carr
A red Chevrolet Chevelle.

There were co-pilots and/or passengers. There names have been omitted, to protect the innocent.

The Start:
I’m not exactly sure where we started (likely the Big Tree or Triangle), but the race was in the counter clockwise direction around Chautauqua Lake, through Jamestown, Fluvanna, Bemus Point, Mayville, Chautauqua, Stow, Ashville, and finishing in Lakewood. I also have no recollection of what happened between the start and Stow, but have vivid memories of the finish. I can, with some confidence, assure you that the lead position changed numerous times.

The finish:
As the finish was approaching, from the back of the pack, Parnelli (aka, John Rupp) as he was often referred to, passed lines of cars, on the hills between Stow and Lakewood. People out for their Sunday drive, returning from church or Sunday afternoon lunch, or just out enjoying the great spring day, were rudely awakened as they came over the top of a hill to find a Volkswagen coming at them in their lane, with no intention of getting out of the way. Numerous cars left the pavement for safety and protection from this wild man, who was only interested in “The Joys of Victory”. There would be no “Agony of Defeat”.

The winner of the 40+ mile race, in memory of Martin Luther King, was a somewhat late model Volkswagen convertible, driven by the not so famous driver, John “Parnelli” Rupp.

Horsepower didn’t prevail. It was a strategy, a will to win, and someone who was just plain crazy.

===========================

So today's song, in honor of that race, a song that was popular and no doubt heard at least once - if not a lot more - on the trip:

Jumpin' Jack Flash
The Rolling Stones

Watch it
I was born in a crossfire hurricane
And I howled at my ma in the drivin' rain
But it's all right now
In fact it's a gas
But it's all right
I'm Jumpin' Jack Flash
It's a gas, gas, gas

I was raised by a toothless bearded hag
I was schooled with a strap right across my back
But it's all right now
In fact it's a gas
But it's all right
Jumpin' Jack Flash it's a gas, gas, gas, gas

I was drowned, I was washed up and left for dead
I fell down to my feet and I saw they bled
I frowned at the crumbs of a crust of bread
I was crowned with a spike right through my head
But it's all right
In fact it's a gas
But it's all right
I'm Jumpin' Jack Flash, it's a gas, gas, gas
Jumpin' Jack Flash, it's a gas
Jumpin' Jack Flash, it's a gas
Jumpin' Jack Flash, it's a gas

'Pretty Woman' gets everyone out dancing

Roy Orbison
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

VALOIS, New York - My right knee feels like Jim Lindell tackled me full force. No, I wasn't playing football last night, it was a party here at Seneca Lake with a couple of hundred folks ranging from toddlers to great-grandmothers.

And the band - what a great band! - Steve Southworth and Rockabilly Rays, pounded on one great song after another for three hours.

No wonder my knee hurts.

At first, not too many people were out dancing. Everyone was milling around, sloshing down beer or box wine. (OK, the toddlers weren't...) Then those first few notes of 'Pretty Woman' sounded and there was a stampede to get the dance floor.

I've never seen so many guys playing the air guitar. (Maybe that's how I hurt my knee, doing that Chuck Berry dance move...)

The neatest thing was everyone was out there for that song, and continued for most of the rest of the evening. Of course, it was freezing outside of the covered area where the band was.

I've collected almost all of Roy Orbison songs and read biography of him written a few years after his death in 1988. He died at 52! And remember the dark glasses he wore performing? They became his trademark after he went to perform one night and couldn't find his regular specs. So...the shades became an Orbison trademark.

Today's song, of course, is Pretty Woman...

Pretty Woman
Roy Orbison

(Words and Music by Roy Orbison and Bill Dees)

Pretty woman, walkin' down the street
Pretty woman the kind I like to meet
Pretty woman I don't believe you, you're not the truth
No one could look as good as you---mercy

Pretty woman won't you pardon me
Pretty woman I couldn't help but see
Pretty woman that you look lovely as can be
Are you lonely just like me---

Pretty woman stop awhile
Pretty woman talk awhile
Pretty woman give your smile to me
Pretty woman yeah, yeah, yeah
Pretty woman look my way
Pretty woman say you'll stay with me-ee
Cuz I need you, I'll treat you right
Come with me baby, be mine toni-i-ght

Pretty woman don't walk on by
Pretty woman don't make me cry
Pretty woman don't walk away, hey----
OKIf that's the way it must be---
OKI guess I'll go on home, it's late
There'll be tomorrow night, but wait
What do I see?
Is she walkin' back to me?
Yeah, she's walkin' back to me
Oh, oh, pretty woman

All this talk about pizza makes me hungry

VALOIS, N.Y. - I'm sitting here 15 miles from the nearest town, reading entry after entry in the SWCS Class of '66 Yahoo discussion group about all the delicious pizza we ate years ago.

Stop it, you're killing me.

But after reading the postings, I did a quick Google search for Pace's Pizza and found this:

Pace's Pizza et al

So Dino's shop is still open. Hoo-rah. If I get to Jamestown in August - which I hope to - I'm going in and getting a pizza, even though I really don't even eat pizza much these days. But I'll make an exception.

It seems like we have hit a plateau of 35-40 Class of '66 classmates who are in the loop that there even is a reunion next year, although I just did get Dottie Holdsworth's email added to the list, so maybe I'm being premature.

But is anyone out there proficient at searching for people? I've done some webcrawling and found Ward Romer and a couple of other folks. But a lot of the people we graduated with apparently exist below the Google-Alta Vista radar. That's not a bad thing, but it makes them tougher to find.

Surely, someone in our class has done work as a private investigator and has access to all those illegal files and websites that we can't get to. Oooooh! We do have a judge in the class, Judge Christopher Henderson (Maryland Circuit Court) who Dave Carlson had dinner with not long ago. Maybe Chris can give us some judicial dispensation and help us find the missing 100+ from the class.

Saturday night I'm going to a biggest Seneca lake party of the season, thrown every year by a well-known family who invites most of the shoreside residents to come and eat, drink and dance. And dance we do, especially after the drinking part. And one of the songs the group Steve Southworth & The Rockabilly Rays plays every year is today's blast from the past:

Running Bear
Johnny Preston

[Words and Music by J P Richardson (The Big Bopper)]
[Background sounds by Richardson and George Jones]


On the bank of the river
Stood Running Bear
Young Indian brave
On the other side of the river
Stood his lovely Indian maid
Little White Dove was her name
Such a lovely sight to see
But their tribes fought with each other
So their love could never be

Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love big as the sky
Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love that couldn't die

He couldn't swim the raging river
'Cause the river was too wide
He couldn't reach the Little White Dove
Waiting on the other side
In the moonlight he could see her
Throwing kisses 'cross the waves
Her little heart was beating faster
Waiting for her Indian brave

Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love big as the sky
Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love that couldn't die

Running Bear dove in the water
Little White Dove did the same
And they swam out to each other
Through the swirling stream they came
As their hands touched and their lips met
The raging river pulled them down
Now they'll always be together
In their happy hunting ground

Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love big as the sky
Running Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love that couldn't die

Welcome to New York and here's your towel

Wednesday, June 29 radar
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

VALOIS, N.Y. - This is the kind of summer I remember growing up in Lakewood.

It's 77 degrees outside, but it feels like 90 and the humidity is so high that the toaster over even steams when you cook an English muffin. If you want to keep your brow dry, you have to swab it with a towel every few minutes, or just let the sweat drip into your eyes.

Love it.

I would wake up on days like this in 1996 and dread going to work at Lakewood Beach because it would be roasting at first, which meant a gazillion people from Jamestown would arrive by bus. And almost always a thunderstorm would sweep through later, which meant that we closed the beach. Good news for lifeguards - we would barrel out to the Triangle for food. (Only one beer, of course).

But those poor folks from Jamestown would end up huddled under the trees waiting out the maelstrom. They always wanted to cluster inside the beach house, but that was verboten, unless they were cute teenage girls, in which case Dan Harp and I would sometimes make exceptions. (Ha! Sometimes!)

It always seemed to be this hot in late August when pre-season football practice started, too. One day 'Happy' Huff passed on the practice field and a bunch of the players had to carry him up the hill to the locker room. Happy weighed 200-pounds plus and it was, well, a load. I missed seeing it, but the legend has it that more water was available to players at practice after that.

The radar weather map with the blog is from just a few minutes ago and shows thunderbumpers in other parts of the state, but no joy here. I shouldn't complain as I'm trying to get the front yard in shape for a memorial service for my late mother-in-law who died in February.

In true upstate New York fashion, we will have a brief service and guitar music, followed by a potluck dinner - with a keg of beer.

Check the weather Sunday for Valois New York. I'll bet it's going to rain like hell.

Here's today's tune, by the tempting Temptations:

I Wish It Would Rain
The Temptations

Sunshine, blue skies, please go away
My girl has found another and gone away
With her with my future, my life is filled with gloom
So day after day, I stay locked up in my room
I know to you it might sound strange
But I wish it would rain
(Oh how I wish that it would rain)

'Cause so badly I wanna go outside (such a lovely day)
But everyone knows that a man ain't supposed to cry
I gotta cry 'cause cryin' is such a pain, oh yeah
People, this hurt I feel inside words can never explain
I just wish it would rain
(Oh how I wish that it would rain)
Rain, rain, rain
(Oh how I wish that it would rain)

(instrumental)

Day in, day out, my tear-stained face is pressed against
  the window pane
I search the skies desperately for rain
'Cause raindrops will hide my teardrops
And no one will ever know
That I'm cryin', cryin' when I go outside
To the world outside, my tears I refuse to explain
Oh, I wish it would rain
(Oh how I wish that it would rain)

Let it rain, let it rain
I need rain to disguise the tears in my eyes...

Funny what you keep, what you throw away

Class of '66 Diploma-SWCS
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

SACRAMENTO, Calif. - In the same closet with the dusty cardboard box that held my Villanova sports-coat photo, there it was, my SWCS diploma.

As Al Pacino says in the film Scent of a Woman, Hoo-Rah!

Why this survived and my diplomas from two universities here in California got lost is a mystery to me. Somewhere in my travels I lost my draft card, too - and that I wanted to save to someday burn for my children.

The SWCS diplomas are actually pretty impressive looking, though small compared to the sheepskins you get from graduating from a university. At my university, you don't actually get your diploma when you walk through ceremonies - they wait to make sure you don't have any parking fines outstanding or books from the library.

Cloise Swearingen's signature is there on my diploma in a big round hand. Do I sense he was relieved when he signed it? He didn't hurry it at all; it's a very careful script.

I'm not too sure what to do with the diploma. I suppose I could put it in my university office next to all my press credentials and old business cards from different newspapers. Or maybe I'll keep it out on my desk at home, wedged neatly between the photo from our 20th reunion and my best Class of '66 reference book - our red yearbook.

Segue, segue, segue.

Sorry, I couldn't think of a good transition from diplomas to music. Not many songs that exalt surviving four years of high school. I did find Bobby Rydell's Swinging School, but, well, another day for Bobby.

So, instead, here's today's song, a Connie Francis tune, the lyrics of which even my seven-year-old granddaughter thinks are pretty funny. Having once been nailed for this particular offense (a long time ago, thank you very much), I view it slightly differently.

But here you go:

Lipstick On Your Collar
performed by Connie Francis

[Lyrics by Edna Lewis and Music by George Goehring]

When you left me all alone
At the record hop
Told me you were going out
For a soda pop
You were gone for quite awhile
Half an hour or more
You came back
And man, oh man
This is what I saw

Lipstick on your collar
Told a tale on you
Lipstick on your collar
Said you were untrue
Bet your bottom dollar
You and I are through
'Cause lipstick on your collar
Told a tale on you, yeah

---- Instrumental Interlude ----

You said it belonged to me
Made me stop and think
And then I noticed yours was red
Mine was baby pink
Who walked in but Mary Jane
Lipstick all a mess
Were you smoochin' my best friend
Guess the answer's yes

Lipstick on your collar
Told a tale on you
Lipstick on your collar
Said you were untrue
Bet your bottom dollar
You and I are through
'Cause lipstick on your collar
Told a tale on you, boy
Told a tale on you, man
Told a tale on you, yeah

My mother made me wear that coat, I swear

Villanova University 1966 - Orientation
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

VILLANOVA, Penn. - It was the fall of 1966 and I got unceremoniously dropped at Villanova University by an uncle who I had never met until I stepped off the plane that morning. He deposited me on the corner in front of the campus with a trunk full of badly out-of-style clothes, a worse haircut and not knowing a soul.

And no one, no one had warned me about Freshmen Orientation.

Villanova was steeped in lots of tradition, one of which was that upper classmen could pretty much torture you at will for the first four weeks of school. You were required - by the university - to wear bow ties, roll your pant legs up well above your ankles and wear a beanie.

I am not kidding, a goddamned beanie.

In this photo, which I found today in a box full of stuff from that era, my socks are rolled up and I'm wearing a purple, plaid sports coat. Not many game show hosts in that era would have had the guts to wear that coat. I stuck out just a little among my much-more wealthy classmates who were mostly decked out in suits or blue blazers.

Still, what an exciting day. And I can still remember wanting to take a poke at the pudgy upperclassman who ordered me to roll up my socks. The beanies and bow ties we were given inside when we picked up the little index cards that said what our classes were for the entire year.

By the end of the first week, the beanies, the bow ties and socks all disappeared. And so did the worst of the bullying upperclassmen, mostly because a few of my classmates lost their sense of humor and bloodied a few upper noses.

What I remember most about that first day was sitting with about 1,000 other freshmen in the Villanova gym and hearing the president of the University tell us to stand up and shake hands with the boys (and it was 99 percent boys) on either side of us.

Then he said, "By January, one of the young men you shook hands with will have flunked out."

I made it halfway through my sophomore year before a combination of deteriorating study habits and developing social habits collided, and my GPA slid to where if I had not bailed out, I would have needed better than a 3.0 to move from sophomore to junior.

And the coat?

I left it as a souvenir for the next occupant of my dorm room. I wasn't going to ever need it again, unless there was a vaudeville revival and John Rupp and I worked up an act.

Today's song is from that fall term and it played over and over and over and over and...:

What Becomes Of The Brokenhearted
Jimmy Ruffin


As I walk this land of broken dreams
I have visions of many things
But happiness is just an illusion
Filled with sadness and confusion
What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love that's now departed
I know I've got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Maybe

The roots of love grow all around
But for me they come a tumblin' down
Every day heartaches grow a little stronger
I can't stand this pain much longer
I walk in shadows
Searching for light
Cold and alone
No comfort in sight
Hoping and praying for someone to care
Always moving and going nowhere
What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love that's now departed
I know I've got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Help me

I'm searching though I don't succeed
But someone look, there's a growing need
All is lost, there's no place for beginning
All that's left is an unhappy ending
Now what becomes of the broken-hearted
Who had love that's now departed
I know I've got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
I'll be searching everywhere
Just to find someone to care

I'll be looking everyday
I know I'm gonna find a way
Nothing's gonna stop me now
I'll find a way somehow
I'll be searching everywhere

After the golf scramble and pig roast, a photo

Class of '66 & Tom Priester
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

JAMESTOWN, N.Y. - Gloria Boutelle Olson sent along two photos of Class of '66 attendees at the SWCS Education Foundation's Golf Scramble/Pig Roast.

Exactly what is involved in Golf Scrambling and what its relationship to pig roasting is, well, I'm not sure I can even begin to contemplate. I've been in California way too long, I guess.

But what a nice photo! I posted the original of this and another shot on the Yahoo discussion site. This one I cropped to get rid of a television in the background. It wasn't turned on, so you are not missing anything.

In case your browser doesn't show the caption, left to right is Gloria, Vern Ahlgren (in the back), Linda Anderson, Tom Priester and Cathy Lindstrom Prince. If I spelled any of the names wrong, please complain to the New York Times. They're taking so much heat that a little more won't hurt.

While it seems we (some of us, anyway) might be getting a little old, I had dinner last night with some folks who are well into their 70s and still going out drinking and dancing, dancing and drinking every weekend. One of the women this summer will attend her 55th high school reunion. She is looking for a younger man to squire her around because she buried four husbands in the last 20 years, she said, and so she is searching for a newer model with a more endurance.

Sacre bleu!

I didn't break any SWCS records for the 100-yard dash last night, but I did get back to my sailboat in near record time, even hurdling a bush in such fine form that Track Coach Joe Rushin would have approved.

After I posted my brief drive-in and parking memories yesterday - at least what I am willing to self-disclose right now - I realized that I forgot to add a special drive-in/parking song, written by Carol King but made famous for our class by The Shirelles.

Here you go. Try to remember the melody.

Tonight You're Mine

Tonight you're mine completely
You give your love so sweetly
Tonight the light of love is in your eyes
But will you love me tomorrow?

Is this a lasting treasure
Or just a moment's pleasure
Can I believe the magic in your sighs
Will you still love me tomorrow?

Tonight with words unspoken
You say that I'm the only one
But will my heart be broken
When the night meets the morning sun?

I'd like to know that your love
Is love I can be sure of
So tell me know and I won't ask again
Will you still love me tomorrow?

All this talk about drive-in movies & parking

Drive-in movie
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

LAKEWOOD DRIVE-IN – The Class of ’66 Yahoo website is full of chatter about going to the drive-in, and some about where people went parking. My seven-year-old granddaughter, peeking over my shoulder yesterday, saw the word ‘parking’ on my computer screen and asked me if my friends on the website couldn’t find a place to park.

How do you answer that question? Yeah, parking was a serious issue in 1966.

My memory of the Lakewood Drive-In was the same as several folks, sneaking up to the fence in the back, jumping said fence, turning on the back row speakers as loud as possible and jumping back to safety before Charlie Finnerty (I think that was the owner’s name) caught us.

Of course, if there was a car in that row with steamed up windows, it was even more fun because the folks inside frequently were too engrossed in developing their interpersonal skills than to spot the miscreants peeking in the windows.

At least until somebody laughed or screamed at what they saw.

While my myopia prevented me from getting much in the way of sex education, the preference of teenagers of that era for white undergarments gave a key to some activities. Maybe colored underwear was still a dream in Calvin Klein’s mind.

The drive-in was also a place you could sneak in a bottle of some awful liquor (Southern Comfort comes to mind) mix it with Coca-Cola and get puking drunk, always a great strategy to impress your date. Then there were the eaters – the people who would go in the snack bar and come out with trays covered with things the staff claimed were French fries or hamburgers or corn dogs. The aliens in some of the feature films looked more appetizing than those hot dogs covered in, well, best not to consider it for long.

There is a drive-in in Sacramento not too far from my house, a five-screen job, so you can park kind of in the middle and watch any of the movies. You can also park on the freeway and watch with field glasses if you are retired from United Airlines and can’t afford the ticket.

But in this new drive-in, the big thing is to go in a honking-big pickup truck, sitting in lawn chairs in the bed of the truck and turn up the truck stereo nice and loud with a good rap music selection. The game seems to be how to turn the bass up loud enough to knock the people sitting in the next truck off their chairs - but not piss them off so much that they come over and start a fight.

And people wonder why home video is so popular.

I’ll save a posting about going parking for another time, but one big question:

Anybody else ever get their car stuck up to the axles down in Celeron in an area called the bum roads?

Can you imagine this outfit at SWCS in 1966?

halter top
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

JAMESTOWN, N.Y. - The SWCS website has a letter from the incumbent principal posted on it about the new dress code for the high school, I posted the entire letter below.

But here's an excerpt:

"Some examples of dress that could draw a conversation with an Assistant Principal or Principal include exposed midriffs, backless halters, short shorts, one-strap shirts, etc. Please recognize that tube tops, net tops, halter tops, spaghetti straps, plunging necklines (front and/or back) and see-through garments are not acceptable."

See-through garments at Southwestern. Good God!

I remember one spring trying to get my ankles as tan as possible so that I could (Gasp!) go to school without wearing socks. I believe that Bill Taylor actually was dispatched home once for that felony. I got caught once, too, but was spared calling my mother because I had craftily socked away my socks (sorry, but it was so obvious) in my locker.

It might have been Gene Munson, guidance guru who caught me sockless and ordered me to cover up my ankles. Now that I think about it, it was the Munster himself and he followed me to my locker to make sure I got back in uniform.

When I went searching for a photo to show what will NOT be happening at SWCS under the dress code, I was amazed at some of the outfits. Of course, the fall semester at my university is a pretty good time to observe women's summer fashions, too. And August is not that far away. Hmmmm...

It seems to me that we occasionally had one day in the spring when we were allowed to wear "Bermuda" shorts. And it was usually the coldest damned day of the spring.

One other part of the letter is sooooo different from what we experienced:

"Last summer we started a dress code committee that has included students, staff, and administration in the conversation...Rest assured that we will again review our Dress Code policy over the summer together with the key stakeholders..."

Key stakeholders. Can you imagine Cloise Swearingen, Joe Rushin, Gunnard Anderson, Anthony LoGuidice, and Harold Burgard (especially Harold Burgard), all getting together with the key stakeholders to discuss a dress code?

I'm sure it would have been a model of democracy.

Today's song and lyrics, is in honor of the SWCS dress code:

Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka-dot Bikini
performed by Brian Hyland

[Written by Paul Vance and Lee Pockriss]

She was afraid to come out of the locker
She was as nervous as she could be
She was afraid to come out of the locker
She was afraid that somebody would see
One, two, three, four, tell the people what she wore

It was an itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie, yellow polka-dot bikini
That she wore for the first time today
An itsy, bitsy, teentie, weenie, yellow polka-dot bikini
So in the locker she wanted to stay
Two, three, four, stick around we'll tell you more

She was afraid to come out in the open
And so a blanket around she wore
She was afraid to come out in the open
And so she sat bundled up on the shore
Two, three, four, tell the people what she wore

It was an itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie, yellow polka-dot bikini
That she wore for the first time today
An itsy, bitsy, teentie, weenie, yellow polka-dot bikini
So in the blanket she wanted to stay
Two, three, four, stick around we'll tell you more

Now she is afraid to come out of the water
And I wonder what she's gonna do
Now she is afraid to come out of the water
And the poor little girl's turning blue
Two, three, four, tell the people what she wore

It was an itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie, yellow polka-dot bikini
That she wore for the first time today
An itsy, bitsy, teentie, weenie, yellow polka-dot bikini
So in the water she wanted to stay
(From the locker to the blanket)
(From the blanket to the shore)
(From the shore to the water)
Yes, there isn't any more

===========================

LETTER FROM THE LATEST SWCS CHEESE:

April 11, 2005

Dear Southwestern Parent(s) / Guardian(s);

The dress code is a contentious topic in every school across the country. And while Southwestern high school is no different, we do feel good about the great strides we have made this year in how we have tried to address this problem. Here are just a few of the changes that we have made: (1) Last summer we started a dress code committee that has included students, staff, and administration in the conversation, (2) We instituted a new identification system with teachers inside the classrooms, and (3) We created a new process in the main office to help ensure greater consistency in enforcement.

While we continue to work on the dress code one thing is for sure: we need your help and support. As the students’ thoughts turn to summer, we here at Southwestern would really appreciate your help and assistance with the dress code. Please help us in our efforts to promote acceptable dress and appearance among our students. It is our goal that all students are concentrating on their studies and if what they are wearing is distracting to the teaching-learning process then we have an obligation to address the problem with that individual.

As a result, we need everyone’s cooperation and hope that you understand the difficult position that we are facing. Some examples of dress that could draw a conversation with an Assistant Principal or Principal include exposed midriffs, backless halters, short shorts, one-strap shirts, etc. Please recognize that tube tops, net tops, halter tops, spaghetti straps, plunging necklines (front and/or back) and see-through garments are not acceptable.

On behalf of the entire Southwestern Community we are looking forward to a productive end of the school year for our entire student population. Rest assured that we will again review our Dress Code policy over the summer together with the key stakeholders but in the meantime we thank you for any assistance you are able to give us in this area.

Sincerely,

Michael J. Vallely Ph.D.
Southwestern High School Principal

Reaching back to kindergarten class

Mrs. Plank's kindergarten class
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

LAKEWOOD, N.Y. - Today's photo is a kindergarten shot (provided by Marianne Jim) which features lots of familiar faces, even Nancy Patchen (third from the right, bottom row) who I mentioned in an earlier entry.

Doug Hooper is on the far left. And I think the dapper fellow on the far right is Jim Nelson, next to Mick Olson.

I was asking my seven-year-old granddaughter yesterday about school photos. They take individual ones at her school but she was pretty fuzzy on whether there is a group photo taken.

Maybe it was a thing of the times. I actually have my first and second grade photos from a Catholic school in Brooklyn. And I'll be damned if ... (hmmm...perhaps not the best choice of word to use in the same paragraph with the words Catholic school)... I'll be damned if I can't recognize about a third of my classmates and name them 50 years later.

But this photo is a classic for the Class of '66.

Thanks Marianne...

Ward Romer, crew coach extraordinaire

Ward Romer, the coach
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

ITHACA, N.Y. - Some people are easier to track down than others. I thought I had found Jim Bova yesterday, but no luck.

Ward Romer, however, was easier to spot, partly due to the high profile crew coaching he's been doing for years. Today's photo is taken from the annals of Ithaca College, where he is still coaching crewing and edging into retirement. He's got a day job, too, but I'll him tell you about that some other time.

When I emailed - to make sure it was right Ward Romer, even though the photo sure looks the Ward I remember - his first question was if there would be a 40th reunion next year.

I got to give him the good news.

Hey! Maybe we should elect him to some committee right away!

Maybe we should put him in charge.

I didn't hang out with Ward in high school, and if you look at his entry for activities, he didn't hang much at all - he was way too busy earning scholarships, debating and in a half dozen clubs. And one of the years, he played football, freshman year if my reading of the entry is correct.

I remember that Ward was a pretty smart dude (sorry, but I was talking with a couple of my undergrads a little while ago, like, you know, like ...). But one day, I got to teach Ward something. Not academic. (Remember, I went to summer school - twice.) No, it was in gym class and in order to pass some damned physical fitness test, you had to climb up on the parallel bars, swing your legs up and over, and then kind of squirm along, dismounting on the other end.

Ward was in the middle of one of those awful growth spurts most of us experienced and had put on just enough weight and height that it was awkward, so I showed him how to get his legs swinging to boost himself up. After a couple of tries, Ward was zooming across the parallel bars like Bruce Jenner and even Dick Shevalier had to smile.

Ward's email address should have landed in your email inbox earlier today if you want to drop him a line and see if he needs anybody to polish the boats at Ithaca College...

Now if I can just find Jim Bova, Jim Jackson, Jackie Ericson.... gawd ...

Today's song it another driving tune, made popular in 1964 and still gets great play on the oldies stations. Brian Wilson is 63 today, by the way.

-----------------

I Get Around
by The Beach Boys

Round round get around
I get around
Yeah
Get around round round I get around
I get around
Get around round round I get around
From town to town
Get around round round I get around
I'm a real cool head
Get around round round I get around
I'm makin' real good bread

I'm gettin' bugged driving up and down the same old strip
I gotta finda new place where the kids are hip

My buddies and me are getting real well known
Yeah, the bad guys know us and they leave us alone

I get around
Get around round round I get around
From town to town
Get around round round I get around
I'm a real cool head
Get around round round I get around
I'm makin' real good bread
Get around round round I get around
I get around
Round
Get around round round oooo
Wah wa ooo
Wah wa ooo
Wah wa ooo

We always take my car cause it's never been beat
And we've never missed yet with the girls we meet

None of the guys go steady cause it wouldn't be right
To leave their best girl home now on Saturday night

I get around
Get around round round I get around
From town to town
Get around round round I get around
I'm a real cool head
Get around round round I get around
I'm makin' real good bread
Get around round round I get around
I get around
Round
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah

Round round get around
I get around
Yeah
Get around round round I get around
Get around round round I get around
Wah wa ooo
Get around round round I get around
Oooo ooo ooo
Get around round round I get around
Ahh ooo ooo
Get around round round I get around
Ahh ooo ooo
Get around round round I get around
Ahh ooo ooo

A victorious group after winning the game

March 13, 1964 - Sophomores beat the Freshman
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

SOUTHWESTERN CENTRAL HIGH SCHOOL, MARCH, 13, 1964 - From the smiles on the faces, you would almost know that the eventual Class of '66 beat the eventual Class of '67, though to be honest, this photo might have been taken before the big game.

Sure a lot of funny hats in there.

This photo came from my neighbor, Marianne Jim. Ok, she's not really my neighbor, but lives about 50 miles away. Still compared to those of you living on the East Coast, we can practically pass the Grey Poupon out the window.

I notice I'm missing from this photo. I'm not sure what sophomore year was all about, now that I think about it. My main memory from that year was Mrs. Stupka trying to teach Silas Marner. The rest of the classes were mostly a blur, though the late Dave Stark was teaching me geometry.

Sophomore year I went out for football and discovered that 130 pounds was damned light to pretend I was a halfback. Add in the nearsightedness and the rest of the disaster played out in pre-season practice before the season started.

I enjoyed the games from the bleachers a lot.

Tom Priester emailed me after reading yesterday's dispatch and reminded me that he owned a 1965 GTO convertible. It was "red with white top, 4 on the floor and it would go like H___," he wrote. "Had to trade it in when our first child was born. I've been in mourning ever since."

In Tom's honor, here's one of my favorite songs to help you drive fast. It's from 1964:

G.T.O.
performed by Ronny and The Daytonas

(Written by John Wilkin)

Little GTO, you're really lookin' fine
Three deuces and a four-speed and a 389
Listen to her tachin' up now, listen to her why-ee-eye-ine
C'mon and turn it on, wind it up, blow it out GTO

Wa-wa, (mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO") wa, wa, wa, wa, wa, wa
(mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO")
Wa-wa, (mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO") wa, wa, wa, wa, wa, wa
(mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO")
Wa-wa (mixed with "Ahhh, little GTO") wa, wa, wa, wa, wa, wa

You oughta see her on a road course or a quarter mile
This little modified Pon-Pon has got plenty of style
She beats the gassers and the rail jobs, really drives 'em why-ee-eye-ild
C'mon and turn it on, wind it up, blow it out GTO

Wa-wa, (mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO") wa, wa, wa, wa, wa, wa
(mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO")
Wa-wa, (mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO") wa, wa, wa, wa, wa, wa
(mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO")
Wa-wa (mixed with "Ahhh, little GTO") wa, wa, wa, wa, wa, wa

MIXTURE
Gonna save all my money (turnin' it on, blowin' it out) and buy a GTO (turnin' it on,
blowin' it out)
Get a helmet and a roll bar (turnin' it on, blowin' it out) and I'll be ready to go
(turnin'
it on, blowin' it out)
Take it out to Pomona (turnin' it on, blowin' it out) and let 'em know (turnin' it on,
blowin' it out), yeah, yeah
That I'm the coolest thing around
Little buddy, gonna shut you down
When I turn it on, wind it up, blow it out GTO

Wa-wa, (mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO") wa, wa, wa, wa, wa, wa
(mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO")
Wa-wa, (mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO") wa, wa, wa, wa, wa, wa
(mixed with "Yeah, yeah, little GTO")
Wa-wa (mixed with "Ahhh, little GTO") wa, wa, wa, wa, wa, wa

A SWCS Class of '66 mini-reunion in 1978

Cheryl, Linda, Mick, Shirley & Barb
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

PITTSBURGH, Penn. - Cheryl Towers (front left) passed along this photo along with another one from 10 years before that will show up here, pretty soon.

If the faces are unfamiliar, here you go around the circle: Cheryl, Linda Hanson, Mick Olson, Shirley Adams and Barb Bunce.

Who took the picture? That I don't know, but he or she will remain the mystery guest until Cheryl says who it was.

(AHA! Thanks to the miracle of email just now (Monday June 20), Cheryl says it was Barb's husband Scott, whose photo appeared sometime back on this website...)

Seeing Shirley in that photo reminds me for some reason of the car that Shirley drove during high school. Anyone else remember (besides Shirley)?

In high school, I drove my mother's white 1961 Rambler Classic 4-door, with a push-button transmission - at least until Bud Hooper and I lost the front wheel in a downtown Jamestown parking lot. The wheel fell off while I was driving down Pine Street and that old Hoover just went to the right and slid into the parking lot behind the offices of Dr. Marvin Siegel, whose office was above a restaurant, I believe, called The Polka Dot.

How I can remember the name of the restaurant, I'm not sure. In fact, I'm not sure. Was it The Polka Dot?

I do remember that the reason the wheel fell off is that before the axle let go, we had been in a snowy grocery store parking lot, driving the car about 40 mph and then spinning around in circles. It was a lot of fun, even if it wrecked the front end of the car.

When the car was repaired several days later, my mother drove it straight downtown to the Pontiac dealership to trade it in. One Rambler was quite enough for her. She looked at the sporty Pontiacs and for a moment, one tiny moment, I almost had her talked into a GTO. Four-speed, the big engine, the whole pagoda.

A GTO! My God! A GTO!

But, she had to have a four-door car so my grandmother could get hauled to church on Sundays. For a GTO, I would have carried my grandmother on my back to and from the Catholic Church up on Fairmont Avenue.

And so she finally settled on a Pontiac Tempest with a good sized V-8. Years later she gave me the car when I was visiting from California and I drove it across country with my sister Evelyn riding shotgun, getting that old 326 V-8 to well over 100mph for quite some time going across Nevada.

So you've had enough time to remember Shirley's car if you think you can call it up.

I think it was blue, but I know for sure it was a Studebaker, the last year they made Studebakers was 1964. Randy Carlson drove a Studebaker for awhile, too, but his was an older model.

We all drove some pretty interesting cars in those days.

Thanks Shirley, for triggering the memory for me. But what are you driving today?

Here it is - The SWCS Trojan newspaper

The Trojan newspaper, 1964
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

PITTSBURGH, Penn. - Somewhere in Cheryl Towers' crates boxes and assorted storage devices, she came across this issue of The Trojan, which features Class of '66 member Chris Henderson on the cover with Lyon Evans, Class of '65, I believe. Chris was going to be taking over as managing editor, Lyon was going to be the editor in chief.

I remember Lyon writing some pretty pithy (pithy, pi-thy, I said) editorials about different things, pithy enough that he got in some trouble and there were some rumblings about censorship.

The power of the press, even in 1964.

Chris was the editor in chief the year I worked on the paper (senior year) and had the whole system down pat. I read somewhere - maybe on the discussion list - that someone believes Chris is a judge, in Maryland.

Judge Henderson! That would be fun to track down so we could tell his local judicial council about his high school misdeeds. Hmmm... did he have any?

Maybe we should take discussion of misdeeds to the discussion list on Yahoo?

Nah. If you have any information about Justice Henderson's whereabouts - or some information about his wild life of youthful indiscretions - pass them along to me.

After all, I'm a journalist! I can keep a secret.

If I want to.