Seems I have a knack of repeating myself. I googled Jack S Phogburn and lo and behold, the only entrants to my query rested at Golden Pond. Both mentioned how I was in the stage play, "L'il Abner," when I traversed the halls of Rowdy High. I played the part of Jack S. Phogburn-maybe it's actually Fogburn-and crooned one song. I did my best Brando, via Lee Strasberg, but it was difficult seeing how my part was a minor one. But, yes, hootster, that be me in the photo. The tall, lanky and skinny one aka v.c.
Here's a repeat of the story. Written in May 2005. Almost 3 years ago. A lot has changed since then.
It was a rowdy Saturday. And there was magic in the air. Rowdy High was inviting all its old alumni to a reunion, the Rowdy High Reunion. The emails had been circulating for weeks. So had the phone calls. But, unlike years past, this one was open to all Rowdy High grads. And because I graduated magna cum rowdy back in the day, v.c. would be in attendance. It would be good to see old friends from a time long, long ago. ( All those years ago! )
I had worked until the afternoon so it was 7 p.m. when I walked into the foyer of the Elks Lodge, even though the festivities had commenced around noon. I signed in, paid my $5.00 to Sharon Mattox, class of '69, while we exchanged pleasantries. She and I were voted "Most Talented" in '69. Man, did I have them fooled. While on the other hand, Sharon was most deserving. She still has an infectious smile which radiates good vibrations. ( apologies to the Beachboys )
I got a blank nametag from Sharon and wrote "V.C." and was ready to mingle. But before walking a few steps, Judy Bailey came to my rescue by inscribing the "Class of '69" under my name. We, the '69ers, shared a camaraderie as I recalled our motto, our unofficial motto which Mr. Woodall, our principal, didn't cotton to:
"Sex, sin, beer, and wine, we're the class of '69." Pretty tame stuff in 2005. Wouldn't today's parents rejoice if all they had to worry about with their kids was beer and wine?
Shirley, sex is still a problem. And Shirley did have sex back in the 60's. But Shirley was few and far between. At least in my experiences. So we made out. And we tried to fondle big or small breastes. And we gave hickeys. And we copped an occasional feel. But for the most part it was pure Puritanical times as the girls were saving themselves for their Prince Charming. For us guys it was okay to be whores and sluts, cos society condoned our behaviors.
Today we're all whores. ( men and women ) But in '69 there was a different standard. Girls wore dresses. No pants. And they wore girdles to keep their tummies in and playtex living bras to maintain a level of upheaval and support. We fellas needed support as well although reserved exclusively in the sporting arena.
And, yes, we were sinful. But hasn't that been going on since the beginning of time. ( See Adam and Eve for more detailed reports; or consult Romulus and Remus; Plato and Aristotle; Mohammad and Cassius Clay.
I left Sharon to mill around and to see what was going on and immediately ran into Ron Trimble. He had gone the way of Yul Brynner and to think we used to call men sans hair, "Mr. Clean." How things have changed. Now its stylish to be bald. And wasn't it Michael Jordan who paved the way?
I had just shaken Ron's hand when a distant voice rang out, "Hey, V.C." It was Gary Nelson, a former member of Rowdy High's Band on the Run.
We immediately began singing: "Stuck inside these 4 walls; stuck inside forever; never seeing no one; nice again; like yoooooooooooou; mama yoooooooooooo; oooooooooohhhhhhhhh.
Me and Gary had hooked up on the internet. I had seen his email address on the "Rowdy High" web site and shot him a note. I wanted to know what he was up to and to offer my condolences for his father's death. His dad had taught me music from my days at Tull Waters ( Toilet Waters to our adversaries ) until my completion of the 12th grade. His dad held us to the highest standards, and I always felt we let him down. Our hormones were kicking into high gear in our junior and senior years, and we were more concerned with the opposite sex than in taking time to learn our studies. And for us guys we were heading into our sexual peak. Little did we know that girls didn't reach their sexual zenith until 35. It is God's way of playing practical jokes. Thanks alot, eh!
Me and Gary had been keeping in touch for the last few weeks. Sending emails and talking over old times. And I had given him the address to "Golden Pond" and he seemed to "dig it." ( expression from back in the turbulent 60's meaning he liked it ) Gary is the consummate concert goer, and we seem to like the same of music. Led Zeppelin rings a bell among others. Even tho I doubt he shares my passion for the Fab 4 as well chronicled in "Golden Pond" forays into the infantile.
Brian Claxton joined us as we were traipsing memory lane. He had played cornet in our band on the run. He had joined the Army after graduation but missed Vietnam because he was only 17. Seems you had to be 18 to make the journey to Southeast Asia. He served in North Carolina and spent 20 years in the armed forces. What a difference a few generations make. Today the U.S. military is well respected, but in those dark days of Vietnam, the guys in uniform took a merciless beating.
And we had to serve-conscription being the order of the day. A few fled to Canada while others went to college. My lottery number was an anemic "69," so if "I flunked out," yours truly would have had to engage in the fight against Communism; to stem the tide. Or was it actually a ploy by the American Capitalists to line their pockets with money? Who knows? But it divided the country. And it hasn't been the same since. For more in-depth analysis see "The Domino Effect." Not about pizzas-sorry.
Bogus Bob ( Craig ), a name he coined for himself, was also at the reunion. He, Kerry Watkins and David Harper had provided the live entertainment earlier in the day, but by being late, I wasn't privy to what was Shirley a grand spectacle. Bob could always belt out a tune. And during the V.N. era after graduating "magna cum lordy," he said "ship ahoy and joined the nay ya vee." He ended up in Bahrain of all places, via Bogata, Columbia, Virginia Beach, Va., and on the dark continent, aka Africa. In the Middle East he was the lead singer of a Navy band, and they traversed the countryside as a bell-bottomed version of a band on the run.
Me and Bogie ( another name he coined for himself ) had been childhood chums since adolescence. We started kindergarten way back in the day, when he was 5 and I was 4. His birthday is in January while mine is in December. So he got his learner's license first, his driver's license first, and he probably beat me into puberty as well. His first ride was a '53 chevy, and then he graduated into a '69 Torino. They don't make 'em like they used to.
Me and Bob, although diehard bros, have always had a penchant for fighting. With each other! Through the many long years-from rock throwing as kids to fisticuffs as adults ( see poker games where we were always smashed and smashed each other-well, not always )-there are times where we just can't seem to get along. ( apologies to Rodney King ) But we're bros until the end.
And Alan Harper and David Harper, identical twins, were at the reunion. Remember David served as part of the entertainment. Alan had just been fired from his job of 26 years-yes, I can relate. Seems he was a victim of out-sourcing. Wonder if he voted for John Kerry?-forgot to ask him. And David is a food broker and I can relate to that. After spending beaucoup years in the exciting/glamorous food biz.
Alan mentioned seeing Jackie Satterwhite, another R.H. alum, a few years ago, who used to live on Harper Road, along with the twin Harpers. Seems Alan had a crush on Ms. Satterwhite who was a babe. Sure the term is sexist, but it's hard to shed one's roots. In the 40's and 50's she would have been referred to as a "dame."
And David knew about vietnam catfish, not me, but the fish, which is now known as "basa." Blame it on the Basa Nova, eh? Not many could tell the two siblings apart but to me it was never an issue. It seems they look more alike today than yesterday. The nuances are subtle but to the trained eye-no problemo.
My old bro, Paul Brooks was at the reunion along with his lovely wife, Debra. Me and Paul have known each other since grammar school, and we attended Truck University together where we became bros in spirit for life. I didn't know Paul was Catholic until recently. Well, I've deduced this anyway. Cos Paul and Debra had about 20 kids together and 10 from previous marriages. You should see the Christmas photo they send every year. After the gala Saturday night, me, Paul, and Debra had a late dinner at the infamous "Waffle House." I had a hamburger and a tiny, tiny salad in a tiny, tiny bowl,( what's up with that? ) while Paul and Debra enjoyed omelettes, steak, and waffles. Seems they ordered for the whole clan.
And there were people there that I haven't seen in years/decades. Wayne Pierce, former jock/athlete, Barry Brown, who looked like he was 20 years younger, Larry Fields, who attended some of our rowdy poker games back in the day, ( he remembers a classic fight between me and Bogie-libation induced ) and Steve Watts. Who recounted how he was the enforcer on Rowdy High's basketball team, and how he once threw an opponent onto the first row of the bleachers, Yes, a melee ensued.
And the women were there. Vicki Ludwig, Mary DeFreese, Becky Aaron to name a few. And my old buddy, Cathy Magness, who claims I coined the phrase "Cathy Maggots." I apologized immediately for my past indiscretion. She was a band on the run majorette and is always a gregarious and fun-loving person. She told me she will soon be in a play at her church, "Steel Magnolias." Offering her vision into the Dolly Parton character. Bring plenty of kleenexes to stuff your chest, Miss Maggots, er, Miss Magness.
Jan Trollinger and her sister, Toni attended. And Judy Miller who used to be a customer of mine at my former digs. The trio was looking good as if time had been kind to them. In fact, all the dames, er, women from '69 were "fine.". But some of us guys-including myself-were portly, er, pleasingly plump with thinning hairlines.
Some of our old teachers were there. Ms. Ostrum, aka Ms. Givens, who taught me Latin for one year, engaged me to become a member of the debate team-our topic was the war in S.E. Asia- and who cast me as Senator Jack S. Phogburn in "L'il Abner" I even remember my one song which validated my 15 minutes of fame, allah Andy Warhol.
Of all the ordinary
Most unloved unnecessary
Places on this earth
They settled on yourn
They settled on yourn
As soon as yer born.
They settled on yourn.
Dogpatch.
And whatever happened to Al Kapp? Who once disparaged John and Yoko in their attempt to "give peace a chance."
Me and Ms. Ostrum talked for a few minutes. She said she remembered that I was smart but shy. Man, did I have her fooled. Especially the "smart" part. And she laughed when I told her my occupation. She was now a member of the "jet set" having flown in from Palm Springs of all places. Shirley, it was Palm Springs, Ca. and not Palm Springs, Alabama.
Ms. Ostrum/Givens was always a bit feisty and had a gritty voice, but her students admired and respected her. I started to ask her to conjugate "I exist; therefore, I am" in Latin cos we conjugated verbs all the time. But for old times sake, here's a feeble attempt:
Sum, Es, Est; Sumus Estes Ent! How soon they forget, eh?
I didn't talk with Mr. Hobson-never had him as a teacher. He probably wouldn't have remembered me anyway. I did have Coach Poulas who admonished me one day in class for being a wise ass. "Go play your tuba or cowbell and get to hell out of my class," he said. I apologize, Coach-sorry.
And the other coaches, McGhee and McConnell, who once said most of us would never make a million dollars in our lifetime. Mac 2 forgot to factor in inflation and the greed of the 80's and beyond. See Enron for example. If he remained a teacher all these years, Shirley he didn't hit the magic 6 zero's.
It was good seeing Jerell Bartlett, who no longer mows lawns on the side. And thanks to the folks who planned "a splendid time for all": David Wright and his lovely wife, Steve Barton, Donna Sosby, and Renee Fowler, whose parents used to dine with me, and all of whom were very gracious and made us feel at home.
Eddie Murphy, Gary Thomas, David Tuggle, Eileen Smith and her husband, Scott, and Lanny Puckett and all the others. I had a great time. And to the nice woman ( dame ) at the bar who was getting soused and graduated from Bass High. ( no relation )
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. Did they play any Stones or Fab 4 at the reunion? Gimme shelter!
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 12:40 PM 2 comments Links to this post
P.S. I even saw a picture I posted during that time frame. Phi Zappa Krappa. Must be old timers disease. But, at least, I'm regular.
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