Whatever Happened To...?

Calling all geeks, braniacs, hulks, and
ex-cheerleaders! Canoga Park High School’s
class of ‘65 is kicking the 45th reunion
into high gear this year.

I won’t be there.
My geeky senior picture won’t surface into
the ‘ha-ha, you looked funny’ zone.
It was taken early in my junior year, unfortunately.
I was totally different by the time I graduated.
Unfair!

Reunions are no doubt a blast from the past.
I wouldn’t know--I’ve never crossed into the
Time Machine and gone to even one of them.

I imagine the event will be filled with sideline
glances, assessments and offside remarks:
‘Good grief, what happened to her'?
'Bill was such a hunk…’

Amid memories of starched, skyscraper hairdos,
ex-tarts fired up with post-hickey-Monday-
morning locker room stories, who ran off
with whose wife or husband, and who made it
to the silver screen: Mike Larrain [Rosemary’s Baby]
and Barry Cutler [Dynasty], conversations will be
peppered with fond memories.

I have fond, coming-into-my-own memories of my
senior year: Columnist on The Hunter’s Call, Steering
Committee member, editor of Horizons, our literary
chapbook, Writer’s Club president, co-coordinator of
Journalism Day, and off-key member of the Folk Singing Club.
Those were the days…

Through The Looking Glass...

I was always the kid who sat in the back
of the classroom according to last name.
Problem was I never could read what was
written on the chalkboard.

Sister would scribble math examples on
the board which looked like hieroglyphics
to me. Forget reading the homework assignments.
It used to drive the nuns nuts...

Every night I called my best friend, Gloria
to get the homework, which drove her
nuts after awhile.

After a couple of years of squinting like
a weasel and pulling at the corners of my
eyes to see anything, I had my eyes checked.
Yep, just as I had thought in my 10 year old brain--
I was blind as a bat.
Nearsighted, to be exact.

Not only was I skinny and the tallest girl in my
class, but also the Girl Who Wore Blue
Rhinestone-embellished Glasses.
The lenses were so strong and thick
that they gave the appearance that my
eyes were pinched together, like a goldfish's.
Achhh….

Nothing much has changed since then.
I’m still 5’8”--haven’t shrunk a millimeter,
and my wire frames are parked on my nose.
I don’t look like a goldfish, though.
The lenses now make my eyes appear
slightly larger, which is good.

The only difference now, because I’m older
and living in a high UV state, I need
cataract surgery in a couple of months.
I should be able to see much better than I do now,
which is like seeing the world in 3-D.
I’d be a great asset working at Pixar…

A Mouthful...

Some people are adept at using slanguage or incorrect
grammar in their conversations.

Phrases like "Ya know what I'm saying...?" is commonly

reiterated and means nothing.

In 1996 in Oakland, California, there was an outcry over Ebonics.

Protesters felt it was an excuse for learning grammatically

correct English.

Students wanted this sociovernacular officially

recognized as a language in school studies.

Thank God Ebonics never made it to the school curriculum.

What would have happened if Shakespeare had penned

the phrase "Yo, Romeo! What up? Peep dis..."

It makes me cringe.

Expletives are part of our language, unfortunately.

The beauty of our language has been integrated with filth.

I credit its abundant use for lack of something substantial to say.
I've always had an affinity for words.

Words can color, describe, resonate.

Words can inspire and motivate.

I credit two wonderful English Comp teachers: Ann Singer who taught

at Canoga Park High School in California and Jean Wilkinson,

my professor at Pierce College in Woodland Hills, Ca.for furthering

my love of the English language.