The year I received my driving license and managed braces and acne. Why, I must be talking about 1986.
My junior year was fairly uneventful, save for receiving that plastic card that allowed me to tool around the highways of Chicago like an ass in mom's 1986 Pontiac Phoenix. I remember that the car had a penchant for dying during slow left hand turns and that the cassette player never worked, thus setting the pace for my owning of crappy cars until the age of 33.
This was the year that my friend Rob Weiska said we should put together a band and enter the talent show at our school. Mind you, neither of us gave two shits about our school, but putting a band together seemed like a fun idea. He was a drummer, I could sing...all we needed was everybody else.
After 2 months of practising a relentless version of the hit Phil Collins number "Sussudio", we took to the stage for 2 fateful nights. We even had a small brass section!
I have my hand clenched in a fit of passion crowing about "the girl that had been on my mind, all the time, sue-sue-sudio."
We placed third. I think some girls who did gymnastics placed 1st and a dude who played "Stairway to Heaven" in it's entirety got the second place ribbon, most likely for merely finishing.
I also attended the senior prom this year. Wait! you say. But you were a junior! True, but one of my buddies Patty Popp (her real name, and if she didn't become a stripper with a monicker like that, she missed the boat) wanted to go to prom without the pressure of giving it up to some lecherous douche. Cue the "nice guy", who couldn't get a girl to like him "in that way" even if his complexion cleared up and his car didn't die on left hand turns.
Man, did she have hair. I think it qualified for the olympic high jump.
My junior year was fairly uneventful, save for receiving that plastic card that allowed me to tool around the highways of Chicago like an ass in mom's 1986 Pontiac Phoenix. I remember that the car had a penchant for dying during slow left hand turns and that the cassette player never worked, thus setting the pace for my owning of crappy cars until the age of 33.
This was the year that my friend Rob Weiska said we should put together a band and enter the talent show at our school. Mind you, neither of us gave two shits about our school, but putting a band together seemed like a fun idea. He was a drummer, I could sing...all we needed was everybody else.
After 2 months of practising a relentless version of the hit Phil Collins number "Sussudio", we took to the stage for 2 fateful nights. We even had a small brass section!
I have my hand clenched in a fit of passion crowing about "the girl that had been on my mind, all the time, sue-sue-sudio."
We placed third. I think some girls who did gymnastics placed 1st and a dude who played "Stairway to Heaven" in it's entirety got the second place ribbon, most likely for merely finishing.
I also attended the senior prom this year. Wait! you say. But you were a junior! True, but one of my buddies Patty Popp (her real name, and if she didn't become a stripper with a monicker like that, she missed the boat) wanted to go to prom without the pressure of giving it up to some lecherous douche. Cue the "nice guy", who couldn't get a girl to like him "in that way" even if his complexion cleared up and his car didn't die on left hand turns.
Man, did she have hair. I think it qualified for the olympic high jump.
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