When I started writing this blog almost a year ago I was determined to write one every week. Guess life gets busy or complicated, moods go up and down but they have to be on the upswing for me to write. Looking back on some of the slightly "off-subject" things I have posted - maybe life creates it little distractions.
So back to the subject at hand. When I looked thru my vast amount of keepsakes from the 11th grade it became challenging to think of where to begin. Reading all the things that other people wrote in my yearbook that year was a good start. There were countless comments about how funny I was. Interesting, I think back about me being shy, quiet and unpopular. Then looking at pictures, report cards, play and debate things I began to realize that I must have been pretty involved in everything at school. I have to admit that as I look back on all of it - I did mange to get involved in some pretty funny stuff.
Muskogee Central High had a program called M Service. If you did things like participate in debate or drama, was a homeroom officer or worked on the school paper, etc. you were awarded points and then received a little green M on graduation. The opposite of M Service was a program called Office E's. M's were good while E's were bad. Too many Office E's and you could not graduate.
Back in the day girls were only allowed to wear skirts or dresses to school. Never shorts, jeans or tank tops. Culottes were also a no-no. One day I wore culottes to school. My luck found me caught by the Dean of Women. She loaded me in her car and took me home to change clothes. Did I change into something approved? No, I put on one of my Mother's skirts which came down to my ankles since Mother was a good deal taller than I. The poor women went ballistic and sent me back into the house to change again. Wow! I racked up two Office E's within ten minutes.
What was I doing in the Law Club? That one completely escapes me but I know I was by a picture from a courtroom visit with other members.
And what ever made me, the big city girl, run for F.F.A. Sweetheart? If that wasn't strange in itself how about my method to win. To become F.F.A. Sweetheart you had to raise money for the organization. There was a Pie Supper but trust me, my parents were not going to pay hundreds of dollars for a pie. So, it seems that my sister-in-law had a horse she needed to get rid of. Did I actually spend several Saturdays downtown with the horse tied up to the clock in front of McEntee's Jewerly store selling raffle tickets on the horse? I guess there was not a huge demand for chances to win a horse and my parents only paid some piddly amount for a pie so I did not win. But I did get a dress for the crowning of the F.F.A. Sweetheart that would reappear several times during the rest of the year.
To be honest it is hard to write these stories with out using names of co-conspirators in my shenigans. Since I am still friends with many of my classmates and uncertain about whether they really would want me to spill the beans on them, I leave out the names. Do not think for a minute that innocent, shy me thought up some of this stuff by myself. I am going admit here that my sister-in-law's name was not Mitzi. I used Mitzi because I have never known any one in my life named Mitzi. Made sense to me that no one else had either.
Her real name was/is Joan. Joan did her share of silly stuff like the night we sneaked into the country club for a late night swim and running up and down the roads in her VW convertible. I remember one day when Joan and I went to Warner to visit a family friend of hers and I came home with a dog. No dog had been allowed in the Hansen house for ten years. My Mother's reaction was "take that dog right back where you got it". The next sentence out of her mouth was what kind of a dog is that? It was a little Sheltie that became Mother's dog that very afternoon.
There was a Saturday when Joan and I decided I should become a blond. Well, after the stripping process I had decided on a Champagne Beige Toner. What color is champagne? I don't think you can really describe it as beige - how about pink? Remember the F.F.A Sweetheart dress? Did I mention it was made of a fuschia (dark pink) chiffon? It just so happened that the Saturday Joan and I decided to make me a blond was the very same Saturday that I was to be an usher in a play at the high school. Have you guessed yet what I was wearing to this event? In 1963 it was really not stylin' to have your hair match your dress and I must admit I got a lot of stares that night. I will also say that my Mother's face was the same color as my hair and dress from anger.
Little brother Kenny got assigned to ride along in the car with me if I had to go to the "library" better known as the cruising places in town at night. Perhaps he grew up a little too fast and I should have been watching him. He went to a junior high school dance one night and was no where to be found when I went ot pick him up. Long after everyone was gone I found him propped up against a tree extremely drunk. That was an interesting evening on the art of getting my fourteen year old brother home and in the house without the parents realizing he was drunk. Thankfully he got so sick that he never did that again.
With all the funny stuff that I managed to do in my Junior year there were actually classes to go to. Looking at my report cards I looked like a pretty serious student with all A's and B's in classes like Chemistry, French, English and Geography. The rest of the day was filled in with Debate, Homemaking and would you believe, Jr. Drama. I was probably lucky that there were lots of speech tournaments and plays to be involved in to keep me out of trouble.
It is interesting to look back on that year as I can see some lifelong patterns that began to develop. There were disappointments that I began to treat with humor and a competitive nature that began to emerge. Sixteen going on seventeen is a pretty tough age to get thru.
Growing up when all my classmates and I did was with out a doubt more fun than we realized at the time.
If I thought the Junior year was fun, it was nothing compared to the following summer and then our Senior year.
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