Last week, the three amigos, Ota, the Toyota, Telly, my BFF (Big Furry Friend) and The Old Poop — me, were out early on our daily search for adventure. We usually look for wrongs that need righting, maidens in distress, evil scientists on the loose or stray dragons that may have made the mistake of wandering into our territory. After a scenic tour of the neighborhood we usually wind up going to the market, the post office or the bank.
Adventures aren’t what they used to be. My cell phone rang, startling all three of us since it happens so infrequently. We pulled quickly to the curb where I proceeded to do an impromptu strip tease as I tried to remember where on my person I had hidden the pesky thing. It was The Queen of our castle with a request for a certain type of hair spray which turned our search for adventure into a quest. I then hung up although I’m not sure in this techno age if that’s still the right term and shoved the phone back into the same pocket I’d taken it out of even though I realized that if it rang again it would take me awhile to find it again. I then noticed that up ahead of us on the corner was a pickup bus stop for the high school kids. Not being in any hurry to complete our quest we sat and watched them for awhile. A typical bunch of teenagers, they stood shoulders hunched against the cold, in their baggy shorts, divided into the castes that have existed since teenagers began.
I could identify the Jocks, the Populars, the Nerds and the Artsey ones. I started to chuckle and Telly cocked his head and looked at me in his “what’s so funny” way. I explained that I was remembering that back when both the Earth and I were young that the caste system in our high school was pretty much the same. Telly asked in his best nonverbal tones if I’d like to be back then. I assured him that under no circumstance would I volunteer to return to that age group. Too many unwritten rules to follow and a confidence level lower than a sea snake’s belly, it wasn’t one of the high spots in a long life.
There were the uniforms, the Jocks wore jeans or chinos, high top converse sneaks and letter jackets usually with a brush cut hairdo with the front row of hair butch waxed to attention. The Popular kids came in two flavors, the Preps and the Hoods. The Preps wore Kingston Trio shirts and chinos with a belt in the back, belted if you were going steady-unbelted if you were single. Their hair style of choice was something called “The Princeton,” short, laid down and combed to the side. The Hoods were the ones I would have been like except that my Mom would have done me bodily harm if I had tried to be one. They wore black leather jackets with the collar turned up, duck tail hairdos that were oiled to a shine, motorcycle boots with their jeans tucked in. The Nerds of today were the Geeks of my generation, pocket protectors, Harry Potter glasses, top button on their shirts buttoned.
They turned out to be the ones that most of us wound up working for. The Artsey ones were like the Artsey ones of today, just different for the sake of being different.
Telly lost interest and dozed off, Ota revved his engine impatiently and so we headed off on our day’s quest. My two friends are just too young to time travel with me.
Thought for the week — You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream. — Les Brown
Until next time, may you and yours be happy and well.
Reach Dick Brooks at Whittle12124@yahoo.com.