Tales of nonsense and items of little interest, sometimes true, always poorly thought through. Less sophisticated than most newspapers and magazines.

Monday, August 6, 2007

High School What?

When I was a lad, back in the wild North West of England, High School or Secondary School or Comprehensive School was a place where men were fashioned out of mere boys and girls were set up for a lifetime of abuse and disappointment. It was here that you learned how to make a bog roll holder in woodwork class, a keyring in metalwork and under protest, a swiss roll in home economics class. It was in these hallowed halls that you either kicked the shite out of someone or got the shite kicked out of you.
We didn't have a "senior prom", we didn't even have a "leaver's do" thanks to the previous year's celebration breaking out into a mass brawl and several thousand pounds worth of damage to the local British Legion. On my last day at High School, I brazenly walked into an off license and bought 12 cans of Swan Light ( a non-alcoholic beverage of Australian origin) for myself and my mates. I didn't know at the time of purchase that it was non-alcoholic..... As embarrassing as it was for me, it was nothing compared to the embarrassment of a couple of my mates who were pretending to be drunk until the discovery was made that there was in fact no alcohol in said beverage. My last day in High School was, to say the least, something of a let down. Luckily, I had more than made up for it with my last year in High School which was a non-stop riot of debauchery and teenage delinquency of which I may tell you someday.

Because of all this, the concept of High School Yearbooks, Proms, Rings and all the other bullshit that accompanies graduation in the USA is completely alien and therefore of great interest to me. I just do not understand all the fuss. What many people describe as the best years of their life were really the worst years of their life. Why the fuck would you want a constant reminder of teen angst and confusion, anger and self loathing? Or is that just me?
I actually consider myself well grounded but I didn't have to deal with the pressure from peers and family to over achieve during these all important years. Mediocrity was/is considered a success in my part of the world. A job is a fuckin' job and any old slapper will do as long as she can reproduce.

When I tell people here that "I graduated High School" at 16, I am greeted with gasps of amazement and bewilderment. I must, in their eyes. be some kind of genius. Here in the USA, you graduate High School at 18 (with the equivalent of a 10th grade UK education). I am more than willing to let them believe what they want to believe. Coupled with the fact that to their uneducated ears I speak "proper English", I am nothing short of Royalty. This is, in part one of the reasons why I stay here.

So, High School Yearbooks in particular intrigue me and I have started to collect them, old ones I mean. I love the smell of them more than anything. The musty old smell that you can only associate with old book shops. So far, I only have two and they amuse me to no end. The pictures and captions are fuckin' great. Here, I present to you, some of my favourite pictures from "Little Giant 1963" of Highland Park High School, Illinois...... Names may have been changed to protect the guilty.


Voted Most Likely Transevites
Ronald Rathsam & Helen Rizzo

Voted Most Likely Wife Beater
Albert Panther

Voted Most Likely Crackhead
Herbert Katz

Voted Most Likely Bunny Boiler
Marilyn Crocetti

Voted Most Likely Wanker
Randy Bletsch

Voted Least Favourite Member of Staff
Girls Locker Room Attendant - Mrs. Arnold Pfister

There are, of course, many more pictures that I would like to share with you, and maybe I will but instead I invite you to share with me your favourite High School story. Where did it happen? Who did it to you and how long did it last? Come on.......you know you want to.....

9 comments:

fofufou said...

I'll do you a deal. You explain to me the grade system in comparison with English 'years' and I think of a story. How's that?

The Mistress said...

Isn't that Dustin Hoffman in the top pic on the right?

I smell of musty old books.

Manuel said...

"I speak "proper English"" mmmmm I bet it's all "Eh up love" and "Gives us an Eccles cake and chip barm" with you

Fat Sparrow said...

Maunel, you have no idea how easy it is to get your hole here if you have a Brit/Irish/Australian accent. I regularly have to beat the women off the Spouse Sparrow with a stick.

"Here in the USA, you graduate High School at 18 (with the equivalent of a 10th grade UK education)."

It's well above that, now. The Fledgling Sparrow's and Honor Student, and this past year in 10th grade she was doing work that we did in 7th. The standards have been lowered so much it's unbelievable.

I did graduate early (at 16), and so I skipped all that prom/class ring/Senior year nonsense and went straight to college. The Fledgling Sparrow's starting her Junior year this year, and I will probably have to sell a kidney to afford all of the activities the school has planned for Junior and Senior year. I will recoup my costs after she graduates by selling her.

If I wouldn't have graduated early, this year would be my 20th High School reunion. Fuck no, I am not going. I have been planning on doing a post about it, but am just too fucking lazy, er, I mean "busy," to post lately. I will try to get inspired, just for you. No guarantees unless you're paying me, though.

Old Knudsen said...

I had to leave school early because I got invalid Dicktorian, a nasty ailment of the willy and also I had to work doon pit.

Education is for the weak.

Old Knudsen said...

you were totally called ghey on my blog for yer knowledge of love seats, I'd defend you but I'm not too sure about you.

Manuel said...

FSparrow, I may move. I noticed this phenomenon when I lived in dear old Blighty. The ladies of Manchester loved my Irish accent. I was immediately moved up the shagging ladder. The accent seemed to hypnotise them thus obscuring the horror that is my boat race....

Eddie Waring said...

Milky - I think 8th grade is like 1st year high school. 12th grade would be 5th year. I think.....

MJ - But do you taste like musty old books?

Manuel - Like I said, proper English.

Sparrow - Mrs.W recently blew off her 20 year reunion too. Mine would be next year, if they had one, which they won't because we don't do shit like that.

Knudsen - I avoided workin' deawn t'pit. I was declared a safety hazard...produced too much methane.
Who the fuck called me gay? I missed that and can't remember which post it was on. I was probably pissed...

Manuel - The ladies of Manchester loved my Irish accent
I suppose this was BEFORE the IRA blew the fuck out of it...

Manuel said...

Did em a favour if you ask me. Now they have a lovely M&S!