Okay, so what is the point of this page? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. If you are reading this page, you probably expect something of substance or meaning...no...nothing remotely like that here. This will simply be a place for me to share "whatever" with whoever is interested. Let's see what transpires, shall we?
1. I remember my first year of teaching, at Norco High School in 1977. On my first day my entire guitar class ditched me and I spent the period trying to find out where they had gone? Not real swift for a teacher to lose his class. Where do you think they were hiding? At the back of the school in a ditch in the "smoking" section, and that is exactly what they were doing...and it was legal! Most high schools had "smoking" sections at that time with so many of the students openly smoking. Not quite the same today.
2. During my youth while attending Glendora High School, the vice-principal harassed me constantly for having long hair (breaking school policy.) Finally one day he threatened to suspend me if I didn't cut it...so I cut it that day. But I wasn't very happy about being forced to do it. The next year (my senior year) the hair code and much of the dress code were abolished due to a court case at the time. I not only grew out my hair six inches below my shoulders, but I also grew out a full beard and mustache. People told me that I looked like Jesus. Every day when I passed that vice-principal, I just smiled. There was absolutely nothing he could do about it. I cut my hair right after I graduated from high school. My point had been made.
3. There was this time in Junior High School when two friends and I were out wandering the streets of Glendora one weekend night as we sometimes did. We suddenly decided to toilet paper someone's house, but we didn't know whose? So, we randomly selected a house one block away from us. Well, there we were doing the job, one of my friends was standing by the front door when all of a sudden the door opened, a large hand grabbed him and pulled him inside, and the door quickly slammed shut! My other friend and I ran away as fast as we could. We walked around the block, and decided to go back to the house to confess and share the blame with our friend who had been caught. We knocked, and surprisingly, a very nice man answered. He explained to us that his wife and two daughters were sleeping, but he would appreciate it if we quietly cleaned up the mess we had made. We did it, and there was no call to the Police that night. We NEVER went anywhere near that house again. My parents never knew anything about it. They still don't. :)
4. I was sort of "forced" to be in School Band from 5th grade through 9th grade because my Dad wanted me to. I always wanted to play trumpet, but over my objections I was selected to be a trombone player by the Band teacher. Five inglorious and uninspired years later, at the end of 9th grade (Goddard Jr. High was 7th - 9th) we were performing our final concert of the year in the gym. Well, one of the tubes that my trombone slide went over, unexpectedly broke off! It was stuck in the slide, but broken apart from the instrument, so the trombone no longer sounded like an instrument at all, more like a fog horn. Consequently, I was making some very terrible noises with my "trombone" every time I tried to play it. In hindsight, I probably should have stopped playing altogether, but I didn't want it to look too obvious that my trombone was broken, so I just kept playing the best I could anyway. Other kids in the Band around me kept turning to look at me, but I just ignored them and acted like everything was fine. When the concert was over, I packed up my broken trombone, and walked home like I would after any other concert. Surprisingly, no one ever talked to me about this, but life went on, and the next year I joined Drama and Choir at the High School, joyfully never revisiting Band again. I learned three things from this experience: A. Never act like your trombone has broken during a concert even when it has. B. Move on when you are coming out of a rough experience. Things almost inevitably become better. C. I should have played trumpet!!!!!
5. In the late seventies and early eighties, I enhanced my income by performing in restaurants and bars sometimes as a solo singer (with a guitar) and sometimes as a duo or a band. When I was pretty close to the end of this "career," I was performing in the bar at a very nice restaurant in Pomona called The Fire House Inn. It was probably about 1:00 A.M., and there was only one customer sitting at the bar. He was pretty tired looking, but continued to listen to me singing my songs. Finally, right after I had finished my rendition of Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline", he turned to me and said, "I think you would sound better if you sang that in a higher key." I thanked him for his comment, and prepared to go on with my set. "No," he said. "You need to sing that in a higher key. I will pay you $50. if you will do that right now." So, I did. He put a fifty dollar bill into my tip jar as he stood up to leave and said, "See? Didn't that sound better?" Then he left, without telling me who he was. I still have no idea who that guy was, but I have to admit, that he was right. The higher key did sound better. And in this case I'd earned $50. to find out.
6. I never cared much for my Physical Education teachers in Junior and Senior High School. They were bossy, impolite and always seemed to be in a bad mood. Today, I am much older and wiser. I understand now. These teachers spent every day standing out in the hot sun with 100 screaming kids for six hours, spent the rest of their time in the locker room where it always smelled like B.O. and if they were lucky, they also got to coach a competing team every day after school and go to games on the weekends. One of my high school P.E. teachers was even my Driver's Training (behind the wheel) teacher twice a week after school. No wonder they were always in a bad mood!
7. I vividly remember as a child and young teen walking the railroad tracks for an hour with my close friends to get to the grocery store, buying an ice-cream bar, and walking back home the same way eating it as slowly as possible. We would all talk and laugh, and the time went by like an instant. Those were the days.
8. When I was in Elementary School, before my parents divorced, we used to go to the drive-in movies almost every weekend. Before arriving at the drive-in, we would stop at Sav-on and buy our candy. Candy bars were 5 cents each in those days, but at Sav-on, three for ten cents. We would each get at least three candies apiece. I remember the delicious taste of those candies more than the names of whatever movies we saw at the time. No wonder my teeth are so bad today!
9. In 1982, after just a couple years of teaching, Doug and I put together a show that was unlike any other of the time. We had more choreography, props and fun than any other competing show choir in the area had ever had up to that time. We performed at the Aztec Sing, and the sold-out auditorium simply exploded with cheers and clapping. We were the only group of the night to have a standing ovation. We felt great..... until the awards were presented and we DID NOT PLACE (came in 6th.) We all learned something that day. Being the most entertaining show does not necessarily mean you will be the highest scored group. And we have relearned this lesson every year at least once. :)
10. At the end of my last couple of years teaching at "Diamond Bar" High School, the Dean would approach me and encourage me not to take so many kids into Choir. He told me it was negatively affecting the enrollment in some of the Industrial Arts classes. I told him, "But these kids want to be in Choir." He replied to me, "But if you didn't take them, they might like to be in Industrial Arts instead?" Needless to say, I did not change my enrollment practices.
11. When my son, Alex was just beginning Preschool at age two (he had been home with a baby sitter up until then), we took him to Friends Preschool in Brea. He was not very happy, and did not want to go there. On his first day, the Principal knelt down to shake his hand, and Alex gave her a swift kick to the knee. She laughed and told us, "He will fit right in."
12. I am not a physical fighter. Words...yes. Fists...no. Yet in 8th grade I ALMOST had my first after-school fight! There was this big kid (I can't remember his name) who always pushed me around during P.E. (I was the skinny, shy kid.) One day, I told him to "Cut it out!" He looked at me in shock, in front of everyone else and said, "I'll see you in the parking lot after school!" I nodded. All day my stomach was churning, but I knew I would have to go through with it. Did I mention I didn't really know how to fight? Other kids kept asking me if I was really going to fight him after school, and I told them, "Yes." Well, the bell rang at the end of school, and this guy runs past me with a backpack on his back and says, "I can't fight you, I have to go home." He never bothered me again.
