November 15

I had a job throughout each summer, and I think during the school year too, part-time.  I worked at a Crystal’s Pizza Parlor and did a lot of food prep work and table bussing.  I’ve never been able to stand olives after all the olive-slicing I did there.

During my freshman year I ended up in an odd friendship with two girls, Cari and Terri.  Wilson dubbed us the ‘Mullett Trio’ (a spin of Terri’s last name).  The name stuck somehow and it has come up at reunions.  One of the classes we shared was history, and the teacher was Ms. O’Neill.  I don’t think I would be exaggerating to say that she was the overwhelming favorite of all the male students.  She was brunette, pretty and busty.  On top of that she would sit on her desk in a skirt and her bust often stretched her blouse allowing for glimpses of bra.  It was rumored that she had had an affair with one of the football players but I suspect this was spread only because it made each of us hopeful that our fantasies might actually have a chance of coming true.

I really don’t remember how it happened, but I somehow ended up joining the drama club and becoming a thespian (complete with initiation).  For the state’s interschool league  (UIL) competitions we did one-act plays.  The only one I remember being in for sure was The Wizard of Oz.  Yes, a novel and feature-length film condensed into a one-act play.  It was bizarre, and quite a challenge, but we somehow managed to pull it off.  As the wizard I got to do most of my lines from behind the ‘curtain’ until the end.  I especially remember the melting witch scene in which Diane managed to crumple and slide out from under her costume backwards through a curtain, then finally allowing the hat to fall.  Fairly dramatic considering our lack of special effects.

The other play was at the school.  Arsenic and Old Lace.  I played the villainous professor recently escaped from the prison for the criminally insane.  I kept my prop flask filled with Mr. Pibb.  The aforementioned Dale played the insane son who thought he was Teddy Roosevelt.  He did an excellent ‘CHARGE’ up the stairs.
I progressed in band and we did several great combination pieces for the various UIL competitions over the years, as well as solos.  One year we did a lot of work on one particularly tricky 7-piece percussion piece.  I played the marimba on at least part of it, and I had to learn to use FOUR mallets at once!  We spent many hours on this and had it down pretty darn good by the time the competition rolled around.  But the day we were to depart a major glitch developed.  One of our percussionists didn’t show.  I’m not sure if he was sick or had run away from home or what, but our hopes for this trip were dashed.  Fortunately our band director, Mr. Phelps, had a plan.  He made a phone call and we got on the bus.  We stopped by our missing member’s house for one last-ditch effort to talk him into the trip and then we picked up a replacement drummer.  I’ve forgotten his name, but he practiced the piece with us all the way down to Austin, a good four-hour drive.  We practiced on seats and plastic buckets.  I think we had a few run-throughs before the start of the judging session as well, and by golly we pulled it off!  We were very excited to get our I rating and the accompanying ribbons/medals.  Unfortunately our excitement didn’t last too long.

Some time in the next week or two we were each pulled out of class and questioned and instructed to bring our medals back to school.  As it turned out, the replacement student we had picked up was either too old or not in our school system.  Had I been older and/or a bit more observant I guess I would have known this, but I was fairly upset that we were being robbed of our medal for what seemed to be extenuating circumstances.  Mr. Phelps was also in trouble and I think suspended for this episode.  He did not return the next school year.  One reason this episode was so serious is that Lake Worth had been under suspension by the state for a couple of years for various financial and educational infractions.  It was under that cloud my entire tenure.

He was the longest-lasting director during my time at Lake Worth, and one of my favorites.  I believe he had a bit of a drinking problem, although I’m not sure if it was related to that incident or not.  I do remember one time when we were either leaving for or returning from a trip and some students helped him walk due to his being inebriated.  I will never forget the girls who helped that balding, chubby older man walk to his office, taking over and protecting him from discovery.  Their loyalty to him speaks volumes.

We had one interim director who had played in the one-o’clock lab band from the University of North Texas, a premier jazz ensemble.  He played bari sax as I recall.  He wasn’t with us long and I think this was partially due to landing a gig touring with Buddy Rich.  The last band director I remember was Pam Garmon.  She was great because she was a percussionist.  She had an 8-piece Ludwig Octoplus in her garage at home, and she shifted our ragged struggling band in the direction that most other schools were going, that of drum and bugle corps.  She had no budget to work with so we were stuck with our 1950’s era heavy wool band uniforms and the helmets were tall, rounded and furry.  They looked like something an 18th century Scottish soldier would wear.  The lining was vinyl and plastic and they were prone to cause heat strokes.

So we didn’t pull off much of a drum and bugle corp look but at least we started sounding like one.  She taught us a sequence of marching band cadences that I can still remember to this day.  They even had cowbell!  The first home game we used them as we were marching into the stands we were electrified.  After halftime the visiting band director even asked for a copy, to which Ms. Garmon replied “NO!”  We were cool.

My first year in marching band I played cymbals.  The next year I played bass drum.  It was, again, probably not a marching band bass drum, more like something reserved for concerts.  But, again, our budget required dual uses.  It was heavy and pressed the uniform into my gut which made me hot, as well as the exertion.  When we marched in parades this meant I also couldn’t see anything but the shoulders of the person in front of me, which is normally fine.  That is, until you were marching in the Stock Show Parade.  This parade was always in January.  The cold was challenging but you got over it in the percussion session as you warmed up.  Unfortunately as the bass drum player I couldn’t see where I was stepping, and trust me — you want to see where you are stepping when you are in a parade behind several hundred cows and horses!  It was a parade where the band shoes started off white and ended up green.  One legendary story involved a tuba player who dropped his mouthpiece in a cow pie, retrieved it, shook and wiped it off and kept playing.  I know that guy and I believe the story!

At the opposite end of the spectrum was the Buccaneer Days parade in Corpus Christi.  It was hot and muggy and our uniforms were a definite detriment.  We were near the end so we sat and stood in place for about ninety minutes before we got to start the inevitable stop-start-stop-start pace of the parade.  We were exhausted afterward.

One constant of band life was the bus.  Every away game, every parade, every UIL competition, every concert competition we were on a school bus.  Only on rare occasions did we have the luxury of a commercial bus.  The trip to an opposing school’s stadium was usually uneventful.  I was invariably called upon to say a prayer, which I almost always chafed at.  But the trip home was almost always dark and that meant it was great for groping.  I almost always dated one girl at a time, and usually for long periods, but there was one exception to this.  I honestly don’t remember her name, but I think it was Candy.  And I don’t remember where we were coming home from, but somehow she and I were talked into sharing the back seat and a blanket.  Candy was not the type of girl I would normally be dating.  She was worldly, she did not go to our church, we didn’t share any friends that I know of, but she was new in school and she had a lipstick that was carved into the shape of a dick.  What’s not to like?  So I spent most of the trip back to school kissing her and fingering her under the blanket.  When we got back to the band hall David, one of the instigators, gave me ‘the look’ and asked me how it went.  I was temporarily at a loss for words so I just thrust my fingers under his nose for a second.  He jerked back and a loud “Woah!” escaped his lips which made me laugh and laugh.  He was a few years older than me and I’d like to think I gained his respect as a man of the world.  He is the same David who lived a few houses down from us and gave me my first beer.  I have fond memories of him.

Regina was more than just a one-grope date.  I actually took her to some event as a date, I don’t remember if it was church or school.  She was cute and it didn’t hurt that she was busty.  On many occasions Cathy would tell Mr. Phelps that we were going to go organize the music and files in the storage room.  I’m sure he knew exactly what we were really going to do.  In fact Cathy and Ken (a.k.a. Speedy) and Regina and myself went to this room (which was under the gym bleachers) to kiss and grope to our heart’s content.  I remember thinking that Speedy and Cathy were doing more than us, but I don’t recall Regina ever grabbing my crotch and that’s probably why.  I do recall my hands exploring her breasts a lot.  I have to wonder what girls in this situation think.

My last and probably longest relationship in high school was Cynthia.  Cynthia was cute, thin, had a great laugh and big luscious lips and played the flute.  Her mom was the school secretary and wore cat-eye glasses and had very wide hips.  We spent many a bus trip together, and not always groping.  I do remember one trip where we went to this crappy little amusement park called Sandy Lake.  We spent part of the evening in a small treehouse/platform and another part on a trampoline.  If I recall correctly I tried to partially disrobe her on that trampoline.  And then the big event happened on a trip to Lake Charles for some band event.  On the bus, I think it was on the way there, she broke up with me.  Again, I was rather smothering and she was feeling the need to be free (and perhaps have friends other than myself).  What I will always remember was the way she had her friends help her let me down easy.  They encouraged me and actually used the line about how there are “other fish in the sea.”  I even remember that I bought into it for a bit.  I was rather distracted that trip and was horribly suspicious that she had another boyfriend already lined up (it’s a guy thing) but I did, in fact, live.  I must admit that I did gain some perverse amount of satisfaction at our first high school reunion.  Cynthia attended with her husband, my old friend Marty whom she married right out of school.  Unfortunately for Marty he was married to Maddie’s daughter because Cynthia’s thin almost bony hips were now as big if not bigger than her mom’s!