Oh, my goodness, can it be, is it is it is it???
Yes, it is Close to GameDay!!! The season starts anew! Saturday, the 4th of September, Auburn goes against Louisiana-Monroe for the season opener. Unlike last year there are not huge pressuring expectations for us, so we all can just sit back and watch the Tigers kick ass for the next four months. Do you have your ticket? I’ve got m– oh, wait, uhhhh, I will have mine, uhh, once I buy one . . .
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Last Friday I did something I never thought I would ever do . . . I was an ultimate Has-Been for the day and went to visit my old high school. I don’t think it’s as bad if you wait six years and some change before you go cavorting back. Only Ken and I were able to go; Steven and everyone else was working or schooling. Maybe we all can get to a high school game later this season.
We got there about thirty minutes before school let out, and as soon as I walked through those doors it was like a time-warp. The first thing I noticed was the smell. There was just that unmistakable high school smell. The second thing that struck me was the door . . . right on my ass, ow. No, I’m kidding, but it would have been funny.
We first checked out the band room; I was hoping the symphonic band would be practicing, but alas, Bubbett (ye olde band director) was just giving the band the ‘Uniform’ speech. The first football game of the season was that evening so the entire band area was pandemonium: Bubbett speeching, band parents runninng around, kids having second thoughts about this whole ‘marching’ nonsense and how could they get out of this . . . you know, normal stuff. God, I miss it sometimes.
Bubbett was still going on so Ken and I decided to hunt out Mme. Byram, our French teacher, before the bell rang. It took forever to find her room; it was in the new addition of the building that I remember as a parking lot. It’s part of the neverending fight against trailer classrooms.
Mme. Byram was one of the cooler teachers because she assigned us projects that you would usually get in art class. It was right up my alley. Ken’s alley, though, tends to gutterball art projects. He told me about his fleur-de-lis project that he did in the last five minutes before it was due; Mme. Byram kept it to show her later classes what not to do. Ken’s quite proud of this (his mom isn’t, though).
We peeked through Mme. Byram’s door window . . . lo and behold, she was assigning the fleur-de-lis project right then and there! “Ohh, man, I bet she shows my shitty one,” whispered Ken.
A few minutes later, she dug out Ken’s project from the stack of posters. That was Ken’s cue — he knocked on the door.
Mme. Byram looked over, saw him, and screamed, “Oh, my God!” and started laughing. She let us in and explained to her students through the laughter that this was the artist of the asymmetrical fleur-de-lis that she was holding. Our arrival could not have been any better.
After we visited with her for a good bit, we went by to see Mrs. Thompson, our English teacher. By then, the bell had rung so there were no students to interrupt. She still had one of my art projects in her room: a paper maché albatross I whipped up once for The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. We were supposed to do a poster but I didn’t have any posterboard. Paper maché, though, was in great supply at my house. It was leftover from an Ethan Frome project of a few years past . . . I had good project classes during high school, come to think of it. Ahh, I’m rambling.
Anyway, yes, the albatross I made is still there, so I felt special. We then ran back by the band room again to see if we could catch Bubbett. It was the oddest thing — he has shaved off his moustache. Crazy. The bandroom was a-bustling, but the kids are younger than I remember being. This year is the biggest year for the band so far — 170 kids are involved. (Incredible!) Before we left, I got to see my marimba that I helped birth from the shipping box when I was just a wee freshman. My baby.
After that we were back on 280 heading back to Auburn. Mom thought I was crazy to go that far just to do something I swore I’d never do. Maybe I am a bit nuts; four hours in a car for one hour of reminiscing is a bit strange, but it’s also part of the fun. It was also amusing to do stuff I once chastized others for doing — it keeps everyone on their toes.
Besdies, that was six whole years ago; I don’t claim to be that same person anymore. She is more like a distant relative (or a skeleton in the closet, if you will). Going back and remembering what it was like in high school, what I was like in high school, makes me glad to know that I’m on the other side of that river now.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not forswearing all of my high school self. I kept the music by being part of the Auburn University Band for three years. I kept the fun projects by becoming a designer and getting paid to do what I love. I kept the friends by marrying my best one. I didn’t completely change in those six years since high school, I just kept the best parts with me.