Big Bad Dad before he was a Big Bad Dad
Once again, the normal burdens of everyday life for Big Bad Dad have resulted in some neglect of this little corner of the web. Fortunately, as the readership for this blog can be counted on two hands (and, perhaps, less), I’m not disappointing too many with infrequent updates.
Frankly, I really don’t have the time for this post, but, to be honest, I need a few minutes away from work.
One fairly recent development has been my entrance into the world of youth leadership at church. One of my plans for this group is to put together a website, including message board, as an additional forum for our young’uns. Until such time as I get that set up, I’ve been advised that many of our youth have myspace accounts and, in fact set up their own little message board (more on this later). Based on this, I’ve also become a “myspacer”.
Last weekend, after I set up the account and got my page looking pretty good, I discovered that you can track down old classmates who have entered their school info onto their accounts. I did an alumni search for my class, and those classes +/- 3 years from my graduation year and found over 100 of my old classmates. By lurking around the whole group, as well as many individual sites, I made the following observations:
1. Despite the fact that I graduated from a medium/smallish high school (360 people in my graduating class) there are an AWFUL lot of people I never knew;
2. Of those I DID know, I have little to no recollection of them; and,
3. The past 16 to 18 years have not been kind to an awful lot of folks.
Now, understand, I have no (real) delusions about whether or not the aging process has affected yours truly…it most certainly has. I’m 20-25 lbs overweight (and 30+ lbs heavier than I was when I left my alma mater) and find, when looking in the mirror that my skin is not as taut as it once was. It seems I find a new gray hair almost daily and my Lovely and Talented Wife rarely misses an opportunity to point out that there are hairs growing in places they shouldn’t be. But DAMN, some of these people look middle-aged.
Enough about the evil vanity, though. The point of this post was not to dwell on the fact that some people drew the short straw on aging.
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Because I had little-to-no recollection of many of my classmates, I broke out the old senior year yearbook (the only one I have left thanks to Hurricane Andrew) and tried to refamiliarize myself with people with whom I’d shared the most formative 4 years of my life. Naturally, looking at the pictures progressed to reading the pages and pages of inscriptions left by those I was close to 16+ years ago.
Almost all of the inscriptions touched on common themes:
“Thank you for being so funny. (Insert Class Name Here) would’ve been SO BORING if you weren’t in it with me!”
I wasn’t so much a class clown, but I WAS terribly bored in most of my academic classes and never missed an opportunity to bring some levity into the situation by ridiculing the teacher or starting pointless debates during lectures, etc. Oddly enough, little has changed over the past 16 years…I still do the same thing when I’m stuck in a business meeting I didn’t want to attend. My co-workers and bosses visibly cringe when I start off a sentence with “Now, I’m just playing devil’s advocate here…”
“You are such an AMAZING singer. Don’t forget us little people when you get rich and famous, OK?”
“Amazing” would be a stretch. “Above average” is, perhaps, the more appropriate adjective. What I lacked in talent, I made up for in confidence, so, to some, I came off as amazing. Poor, silly people.
Of course, I became neither rich nor famous and singing had nothing to do with any successes I’ve had in life. I did, however, still manage to forget some of those little people.
“Thank you for being such a great friend, someone to confide in and a shoulder to cry on.”
This came from a large number of girls, most of whom had dated my best friend. He never treated girls badly, mind you, he just let them know their place in his life. During a conversation with one of his then-girlfriends, she said “Sometimes I don’t know what’s more important to you; me or your truck.”.
Needless to say, she became extremely angry when he answered her honestly and, by virtue of my status as “best friend”, I got the tear-filled phone call.
BUT, this was not limited to those poor souls who had been jilted by Mr. Insensitive. Several of these comments came from girls that I really wanted to hook up with but, because I was such a sweetie, I was never able to close the deal. I personified the “You’re-such-a-great-friend-almost-like-a-brother” guy. If my high school career was a John Hughes movie, I was Duckie.
“You’re going to make some woman very happy!”
They were right, I think. My wife doesn’t come home turning cartwheels every night, but I think she’s pretty happy. However, as the result of the "Duckie Syndrome" referenced above, I changed my M.O. after high school and managed to make a bunch of them damned UNhappy. This is why, as the father of a little girl, I worry about my karma.
“I’ll never forget the party at (insert name here)’s house.”
This theme served as a reminder to me that my affinity for fizzy libations and brown or gold liquors developed at a very early age.
Part of the reason that they will never forget the party is because, in some cases, I never remembered it. From what I hear, I always had a lot of fun but was often dependent on others to fill in the gaps for me. In some cases, I’d preferred if they’d just let me remain ignorant of my exploits.
Hey, I grew up in Miami in the 80s. Boozing was the least of the trouble we could’ve gotten into back then.
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I came across a few very heart-felt, sweet and LONG inscriptions written by people who described me as one of the greatest people the’ve ever met. After reading those, I had a warm little feeling inside. Them I flipped back in the yearbook to look up who it was that held me in such high regard because their faces were just not springing to mind. One of them is an absolute mystery.
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A few interesting blurbs from some folks I DO remember (and I paraphrase):
“The first time I met you in Chorus I was like, “Oh My GOD, I want to be like him!”…thanks for being such an inspiration”
- A gay guy who I actually became good friends with but haven’t spoken to in 15 years.
This guy is one that I’d actually like to catch up with. He was always a very sweet, very genuine guy and his sexuality never bothered me. Hell, I actually shared a bed with him on a couple out-of-town field trips and never worried about it. Outside a little spooning, nothing ever happened.
“You and I have a very special relationship that can never be broken. If we haven’t talked for a while, we can pick up the phone and it’ll be like no time ever went by!”
- A VERY close friend of mine who I haven’t spoken to in 7 or 8 years.
I miss this girl a great deal and feel really bad about the fact that we lost touch. If there’s anyone with whom I could just pick up where we left off, it would be her. I’ve tried tracking her down a few times over the past few years but have had no luck. One disadvantage in trying to track down a girl from high school: if you don’t know her married name, you’re screwed.
“…you have been a like a part of our family over the years…”
- The younger brother of a guy I was tight with. Walked big brother through some pretty rough personal issues. Haven’t talked to him in 12 years.
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Also came across the standard pledge of eternal friendship from two different people who never responded to me when I had managed to track them down, thereby proving that “eternity” is really a relative term.
That last sentence came off a little bitter and I truly don’t intend it that way. I don’t fault them at all. Had they actually responded, I probably would’ve smiled at the response, told them I’m glad they’re doing well and not bothered corresponding with them again for another several years…if ever.
Of the many friends I had in high school, I am currently in close contact with 3, direct but infrequent contact with 3 and am up to speed on the lives of about a dozen more by proxy. The likelihood of me rekindling any more relationships beyond those is extremely slim and the likelihood of me attending my next high school reunion is only slightly better.
I had a great high school experience that I wouldn’t trade for anything and I value the memories and my friends of that time but I’d be curious as to how I would be perceived today.
I AM still pretty funny and haven’t lost my affinity for distilled/brewed beverages, but beyond that, I’m not sure I would be seen the same way.
The guy who marched to his own drummer in high school is now a slave to Corporate America. The social butterfly has given way to a guy who doesn’t really want to leave his house unless he has to. The singer who thought nothing of singing before an audience of hundreds rarely sings outside the confines of his house or car…and when he DOES, he gets critiqued by a 3 year old. As far as the "sweet guy" who was "a shoulder to cry on", let's be honest. There used to exist an ulterior motive which shuffled off when I met my wife. I'm not nearly as sweet as I used to be...much to my wife's chagrin.
In short, I grew up.
When I started this, I said I had a point and, indeed, I do. It’s just not going to be wrapped up with a pretty little bow just yet. Unfortunately, this case of verbal diarrhea has taken entirely too long and I have to get back to work. We’ll just call this the first in a series.
Stay tuned.
Frankly, I really don’t have the time for this post, but, to be honest, I need a few minutes away from work.
One fairly recent development has been my entrance into the world of youth leadership at church. One of my plans for this group is to put together a website, including message board, as an additional forum for our young’uns. Until such time as I get that set up, I’ve been advised that many of our youth have myspace accounts and, in fact set up their own little message board (more on this later). Based on this, I’ve also become a “myspacer”.
Last weekend, after I set up the account and got my page looking pretty good, I discovered that you can track down old classmates who have entered their school info onto their accounts. I did an alumni search for my class, and those classes +/- 3 years from my graduation year and found over 100 of my old classmates. By lurking around the whole group, as well as many individual sites, I made the following observations:
1. Despite the fact that I graduated from a medium/smallish high school (360 people in my graduating class) there are an AWFUL lot of people I never knew;
2. Of those I DID know, I have little to no recollection of them; and,
3. The past 16 to 18 years have not been kind to an awful lot of folks.
Now, understand, I have no (real) delusions about whether or not the aging process has affected yours truly…it most certainly has. I’m 20-25 lbs overweight (and 30+ lbs heavier than I was when I left my alma mater) and find, when looking in the mirror that my skin is not as taut as it once was. It seems I find a new gray hair almost daily and my Lovely and Talented Wife rarely misses an opportunity to point out that there are hairs growing in places they shouldn’t be. But DAMN, some of these people look middle-aged.
Enough about the evil vanity, though. The point of this post was not to dwell on the fact that some people drew the short straw on aging.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Because I had little-to-no recollection of many of my classmates, I broke out the old senior year yearbook (the only one I have left thanks to Hurricane Andrew) and tried to refamiliarize myself with people with whom I’d shared the most formative 4 years of my life. Naturally, looking at the pictures progressed to reading the pages and pages of inscriptions left by those I was close to 16+ years ago.
Almost all of the inscriptions touched on common themes:
“Thank you for being so funny. (Insert Class Name Here) would’ve been SO BORING if you weren’t in it with me!”
I wasn’t so much a class clown, but I WAS terribly bored in most of my academic classes and never missed an opportunity to bring some levity into the situation by ridiculing the teacher or starting pointless debates during lectures, etc. Oddly enough, little has changed over the past 16 years…I still do the same thing when I’m stuck in a business meeting I didn’t want to attend. My co-workers and bosses visibly cringe when I start off a sentence with “Now, I’m just playing devil’s advocate here…”
“You are such an AMAZING singer. Don’t forget us little people when you get rich and famous, OK?”
“Amazing” would be a stretch. “Above average” is, perhaps, the more appropriate adjective. What I lacked in talent, I made up for in confidence, so, to some, I came off as amazing. Poor, silly people.
Of course, I became neither rich nor famous and singing had nothing to do with any successes I’ve had in life. I did, however, still manage to forget some of those little people.
“Thank you for being such a great friend, someone to confide in and a shoulder to cry on.”
This came from a large number of girls, most of whom had dated my best friend. He never treated girls badly, mind you, he just let them know their place in his life. During a conversation with one of his then-girlfriends, she said “Sometimes I don’t know what’s more important to you; me or your truck.”.
Needless to say, she became extremely angry when he answered her honestly and, by virtue of my status as “best friend”, I got the tear-filled phone call.
BUT, this was not limited to those poor souls who had been jilted by Mr. Insensitive. Several of these comments came from girls that I really wanted to hook up with but, because I was such a sweetie, I was never able to close the deal. I personified the “You’re-such-a-great-friend-almost-like-a-brother” guy. If my high school career was a John Hughes movie, I was Duckie.
“You’re going to make some woman very happy!”
They were right, I think. My wife doesn’t come home turning cartwheels every night, but I think she’s pretty happy. However, as the result of the "Duckie Syndrome" referenced above, I changed my M.O. after high school and managed to make a bunch of them damned UNhappy. This is why, as the father of a little girl, I worry about my karma.
“I’ll never forget the party at (insert name here)’s house.”
This theme served as a reminder to me that my affinity for fizzy libations and brown or gold liquors developed at a very early age.
Part of the reason that they will never forget the party is because, in some cases, I never remembered it. From what I hear, I always had a lot of fun but was often dependent on others to fill in the gaps for me. In some cases, I’d preferred if they’d just let me remain ignorant of my exploits.
Hey, I grew up in Miami in the 80s. Boozing was the least of the trouble we could’ve gotten into back then.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I came across a few very heart-felt, sweet and LONG inscriptions written by people who described me as one of the greatest people the’ve ever met. After reading those, I had a warm little feeling inside. Them I flipped back in the yearbook to look up who it was that held me in such high regard because their faces were just not springing to mind. One of them is an absolute mystery.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few interesting blurbs from some folks I DO remember (and I paraphrase):
“The first time I met you in Chorus I was like, “Oh My GOD, I want to be like him!”…thanks for being such an inspiration”
- A gay guy who I actually became good friends with but haven’t spoken to in 15 years.
This guy is one that I’d actually like to catch up with. He was always a very sweet, very genuine guy and his sexuality never bothered me. Hell, I actually shared a bed with him on a couple out-of-town field trips and never worried about it. Outside a little spooning, nothing ever happened.
“You and I have a very special relationship that can never be broken. If we haven’t talked for a while, we can pick up the phone and it’ll be like no time ever went by!”
- A VERY close friend of mine who I haven’t spoken to in 7 or 8 years.
I miss this girl a great deal and feel really bad about the fact that we lost touch. If there’s anyone with whom I could just pick up where we left off, it would be her. I’ve tried tracking her down a few times over the past few years but have had no luck. One disadvantage in trying to track down a girl from high school: if you don’t know her married name, you’re screwed.
“…you have been a like a part of our family over the years…”
- The younger brother of a guy I was tight with. Walked big brother through some pretty rough personal issues. Haven’t talked to him in 12 years.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Also came across the standard pledge of eternal friendship from two different people who never responded to me when I had managed to track them down, thereby proving that “eternity” is really a relative term.
That last sentence came off a little bitter and I truly don’t intend it that way. I don’t fault them at all. Had they actually responded, I probably would’ve smiled at the response, told them I’m glad they’re doing well and not bothered corresponding with them again for another several years…if ever.
Of the many friends I had in high school, I am currently in close contact with 3, direct but infrequent contact with 3 and am up to speed on the lives of about a dozen more by proxy. The likelihood of me rekindling any more relationships beyond those is extremely slim and the likelihood of me attending my next high school reunion is only slightly better.
I had a great high school experience that I wouldn’t trade for anything and I value the memories and my friends of that time but I’d be curious as to how I would be perceived today.
I AM still pretty funny and haven’t lost my affinity for distilled/brewed beverages, but beyond that, I’m not sure I would be seen the same way.
The guy who marched to his own drummer in high school is now a slave to Corporate America. The social butterfly has given way to a guy who doesn’t really want to leave his house unless he has to. The singer who thought nothing of singing before an audience of hundreds rarely sings outside the confines of his house or car…and when he DOES, he gets critiqued by a 3 year old. As far as the "sweet guy" who was "a shoulder to cry on", let's be honest. There used to exist an ulterior motive which shuffled off when I met my wife. I'm not nearly as sweet as I used to be...much to my wife's chagrin.
In short, I grew up.
When I started this, I said I had a point and, indeed, I do. It’s just not going to be wrapped up with a pretty little bow just yet. Unfortunately, this case of verbal diarrhea has taken entirely too long and I have to get back to work. We’ll just call this the first in a series.
Stay tuned.
posted by Big Bad Dad at 3:47 PM
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