THE ANNUAL
Well, we didn't call it that. It was always The Yearbook. And in this picture complied of yearbook pictures from high schools across the land in a variety of years, the object is to guess who is who? Of course, like any yearbook picture, laughs and ohmigoshes should be plentiful as we examine the way we looked.
All my high school yearbook pictures were a little goofy. Because I was a little goofy. My frosh picture marked the end last flat top I had in the Summer. Then when school started, I let my hair grow longer for warmth, or so I thought. My early- in- the- school year pic denoted stand up hair, not quite pre-Beatle normal; in fact it looked somewhat like guys' hair today--stand up abnormal.
As a Soph, our teacher didn't inform of us of picture day, so I was pretty slobby, or once again I would have fit in nicely with today's high schoolers.
Not my Junior year though. I wore a sweater and tie. I know most Seniors were the ones to dress up, but I had had too many bad pictures. My picture was fine, but I looked about 12 years old. Couldn't help it. But I was spiffy.
My Senior year I sported Beatle bangs with a variation. I still had a part in my hair on the left side. A modified Beatle. In sport coat and tie, I smiled for the camera man who didn't tell me that my bangs had been separated by the morning rain. Even a variated, modified, codified Beatle didn't look too cool with a jeri curl.
Other pictures of me in the yearbook faired no better. In most, I seem to remember burying my neck into my chest and looking up. Kinda the way the barber tells you to sit so he can clip those annoying neck hair pockets on the right and left side of your head.
But I thought yearbooks important. I tried to write copiously to my friends and attractive girls when they asked me to sign. Maybe it was my way of making up for a bad picture. You know, years later when they found them while moving; "you know he looked pretty stupid back then but he was nice."
I don't know. (It seems like I say that more and more all the time). Maybe for half my high school career, I would have fit in better with this generation of adolescents. The other two years, well I don't know. I guess I fit in better when I was on the other side of the desk. Awwh, who I am kidding? High school teachers never fit in anywhere.
Well, we didn't call it that. It was always The Yearbook. And in this picture complied of yearbook pictures from high schools across the land in a variety of years, the object is to guess who is who? Of course, like any yearbook picture, laughs and ohmigoshes should be plentiful as we examine the way we looked.
All my high school yearbook pictures were a little goofy. Because I was a little goofy. My frosh picture marked the end last flat top I had in the Summer. Then when school started, I let my hair grow longer for warmth, or so I thought. My early- in- the- school year pic denoted stand up hair, not quite pre-Beatle normal; in fact it looked somewhat like guys' hair today--stand up abnormal.
As a Soph, our teacher didn't inform of us of picture day, so I was pretty slobby, or once again I would have fit in nicely with today's high schoolers.
Not my Junior year though. I wore a sweater and tie. I know most Seniors were the ones to dress up, but I had had too many bad pictures. My picture was fine, but I looked about 12 years old. Couldn't help it. But I was spiffy.
My Senior year I sported Beatle bangs with a variation. I still had a part in my hair on the left side. A modified Beatle. In sport coat and tie, I smiled for the camera man who didn't tell me that my bangs had been separated by the morning rain. Even a variated, modified, codified Beatle didn't look too cool with a jeri curl.
Other pictures of me in the yearbook faired no better. In most, I seem to remember burying my neck into my chest and looking up. Kinda the way the barber tells you to sit so he can clip those annoying neck hair pockets on the right and left side of your head.
But I thought yearbooks important. I tried to write copiously to my friends and attractive girls when they asked me to sign. Maybe it was my way of making up for a bad picture. You know, years later when they found them while moving; "you know he looked pretty stupid back then but he was nice."
I don't know. (It seems like I say that more and more all the time). Maybe for half my high school career, I would have fit in better with this generation of adolescents. The other two years, well I don't know. I guess I fit in better when I was on the other side of the desk. Awwh, who I am kidding? High school teachers never fit in anywhere.
posted by TQ @ 4:24 AM
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