Tag Archives: Lincoln High School

October 4, 2011 · 9:08 pm

Rembering High School, where I learned to cope.

My high school reunion, 30th high school reunion, was last Saturday. I didn’t go. For a few minutes or so I toyed with the idea of going, and then thought better of it. Why put myself through a 2000 mile drive to get to the Stockton. I could fly, but that’s become such a pain in the butt that I’m not inclined to fly anywhere anymore, unless it’s impossible to get there by car or train. See Europe and Hawai’i.

I did enjoy looking at some of the pictures from the event, thank you Facebook. Facebook is a Godsend to those of us who aren’t so good in crowds and get a little uptight about attending events and meeting folks. We can engage on our own terms and from the comfort of our offices and kitchen tables. It’s how I would prefer to engage with many of my family members, less drama on Facebook.

For the most part the Class of 81, at least the subset of a subset that showed up at the reunion looked pretty good. Not many were as fat as I am now, clean living I guess. Most were a little greyer than I, I eat lots and lots of preservatives in my food, keeps my hair dark. I didn’t get a chance to compare and contrast careers and kids, to measurements that are difficult to fake. I suppose you could lie about them, but I would hope we’re all just a bit past that now, as we’re are approaching our 50’s.

I was even to motivated to do the unthinkable, I headed down to the basement, tore apart old boxes and dusty piles of shit, long discarded sporting goods, spare fish tank, some collectable GI Joes that I bought 15 years ago thinking that they’d be valuable one day.. BTW, they are mostly in the Longaberger baskets that Mrs S purchased back in the day, same idea. $3,000 for a picnic basket that one day will be an heirloom keepsake our family will cherish. I have a better shot with GI Joe, I got me one in every WWII uniform in the original packaging. Call them dolls if you wish, but for a crusty old collector they’re going to be wanted items. As opposed to the yuppie houseparty baskets, I’m pretty sure the only person who will appreciate them who ever gets the clean out my basement after I cack. He or She.. probably she because no son would care enough to clean up a house after a parent dies, she will be looking for something to carry all the little shit out of the basement and that basket will come in handy. I sure hope she realizes what she has before she sells it at the estate sale for $1.00.

Of course by then she’ll probably have a levitating basket that you pile stuff into, only to it carry it’s own self up the stairs. Remember the promises they made when I was young , I think by now I was supposed to be getting around in a flying assed car, just where the f”K is that thing?

I digress. There, deep in the basement I found what I was looking for, the 1981 edition of the Lincoln Log, my high school year book. I dragged the thing upstairs, I haven’t really taken a look at it in 20 years probably, but I did need it to help me place some of the names and current faces, as I couldn’t quite remember who they were back when I was in school.

Funny how my perceptions have been frozen for 30 years, as I was looking at the book I found myself muttering “douche”and “good guy” and “he was a dick”and “oh yeah..” “Man what ever happened to her” and then there’s those folks who I only remember because back when I bought the thing.. I remember looking at the pictures and thinking that I had no idea who they folks were even then, and I was supposed have been in school with them the last four years. 30 years later, I remembered that I didn’t remember who they were then, or now. Odd how my mind works eh?

I especially enjoyed some of the girls who I thought were the bomb back in the day. Look at them now, feathered hair, GunneSax dresses all lacy and filly. Lots of powder blue tuxs.. fond memories of time better left behind.

I got lost for a bit in some of the many signatures on the book. The common theme, “Sank, you’re a funny guy”. Glad to know others thought so, even back then. Maybe things don’t change so much.

Or not-

Sunday I was sitting with a few friends and kids at Apple Valley High School Dance Team Spaghetti Feed talking a bit about school. I had mentioned something or other about the school nurse. My daughter gets holiday cards from her school nurse, they’re that close. I think she’s in there once a week or so. I don’t remember a school nurse when I was a kid. If there was one I certainly never visited her. Or him. I remember a certain middle school coach who used to make sure he was in attendance at all the school physicals and used to have the boys down to their skivvies when they rolled an ankle or needed a knee wrapped. He sort of went away one day and we never saw him again. Hmm, weird.

Anyway, the kids said they visit the nurse when they need an ibuprofen or more contact solution. Damn things have changed, I don’t know anyone who wore contacts in high school. We all had glasses, typically the kind that were as effective for focusing on text as they were at keeping us from getting dates. I don’t think ibuprofen was invented in 1979. Tylenol was but there were risks…

“You never went to the nurse?” the kids were surprised. “No”, “Not once?”

“Not only that kids, I never went to the bathroom when I was in school”.

They all fell over in disbelief. Well, when walking into one of our smoke filled bathrooms, you know the kind that doubled as clubhouses for some of the kids that would one day start street gangs, believe me you could endure a few cramps at the expense of your life. My son called me on it. “You didn’t go pee in school for 4 years?” Pee yes.. we had a decent can in the choir room we could use and the one the library, oh and the  one in the huddle, which was our cafeteria. But, never #2.” “ For four years?” “more like 6 years if you include middle school.” If my bride has been there she might have relayed that to this day I’ve been known to leave the mall, get in the car and go home when nature calls ‘cause “yeah he never ‘duces’ in public.” I was scarred, what can I say.

“BTW Kids” my turn to ask, “Where is the smoking section at Valley High?” All blank stares.. “the what?” “You know the place where kids go to smoke?” We had a sanctioned bench and ashtray out on the end of the parking lot where kids were allowed to go smoke during lunch and before and after school. That was a shock to the kids.

Now, campuses are completely tobacco free. That, is a significant change given the two times in 4 years I had to go through the teachers lounge for something. Talk about a view to the inner sanctum! Visibility in my high schools teachers lounge was about 18 inches, the smoked glass window that said Break Room on it really wasn’t smoked glass. Just say’n.

Well apparently things have changed now, kids have medical staff on premises, clean well patrolled restrooms, healthy food, tobacco free, drug gree. No wonder they can’t cope in the real world anymore.

4 Comments

Filed under Life

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , ,

September 1, 2010 · 7:18 pm

Big Chill

Got news this week about the passing of one of my favorite high school teachers. High school, not exactly a time of my life that I would be all that interested in going back too to be honest. I wasn’t a big fan of the whole scene and I didn’t like living at home much.

But, just to show the impact that great teachers can have on there students, there were three teachers that stick out to this day, two because of how great they were at teaching, motivating and being there for kids. One because of what a complete jackass he was.

So there you have it teachers, be really good or be really bad if you want to be remembered.

Gary Wright was my choir teacher. The only teacher I had all four years of school he was a gifted educator who connected with kids with humor and compassion and respect all the good things that the best teachers bring out in kids. I was better for having known him.

I contacted him later in life on Facebook and was little sad to learn that he didn’t remember me, surprise since my family was very difficult to work with when you were an educator, Mom was a teachers worst nightmare. And while I wasn’t all that surprised that he didn’t remember who I was, it didn’t matter. His job was to make me better and more confident, and that he did.

BTW, as long as I’m reaching out about great teacher, I do have shout out my favorite high school instructor, she had a huge impact on me as well, only in her case I didn’t realize it at the time. Arleen Wattel was my Freshman Comp teacher and later my Shakespeare and Lit instructor. No instructor in my entire high school experience did more to prepare me for college than  Mrs Wattel. I can say, with no exaggeration that she not only taught me to write, but she sparked a life long love affair with the written word. To this day I go out of my way to see Shakespeare on the stage, and every time I do, I think of her.

Funny thing, all the time we were in school we always thought Mrs Wattel was drill sergeant, used to joke about it in class. Little did we know she actually was a decorated Chief Warrant Officer in the California National Guard.

I chatted with my best buddy from high school, the only person from that time that I still have contact with, at least did before Facebook, Mark. He and I were in the Choir together. When I told him about Gary’s passing he made the following comment.

“Now that were on the back nine of life, there’s more of that sort of news to come?”

WFT? Back Nine of Life? This wasn’t supposed to be a Big Chill moment here.

Talking to college pal Jeff, I lamented a bit the idea that were heading to the Spiritual Clubhouse. Jeff, a brilliant analyst who’s very adept at making relevant analogies said the following.

“Sank, put a yardstick on the ground. If birth is 0 and death is 32 inches. Where do you think you are? Put your finger about 20 and see how much is left and how much is yet to go.”

OK Screw you too.

These are the two people who I’ve known the longest in my life, who have now conspired to light the fuse on my mid-life crisis. There better be a damned motorcycle or restored Porsche 911 in this for me somewhere or I’m gonna kick both their asses.

Or uh at least talk about it.

4 Comments

Filed under Life

Tagged as , , , , ,

January 21, 2010 · 4:49 pm

Thank YOU who ever you are-

I’m a little stunned these days.. Old And In The Way is in fuego.. at least for Old And In The Way. Hit count- 5X what it was before the MinnPost article. THAT means there’s a lot of new readers here.. Welcome to each and every one of you. Last night I even started to get a few comments from the new folks.. since comments are the only pay I get for this, they’re golden.. thank you.

Funny how this writing thing has developed. Last night I sat down and started dribbling away and just like that.. 3,000 words, not that I count. Reminds me of high school for some reason.

Freshmen year, would have been back in 1978.. long assed time ago. Mrs Wattel, she taught Freshmen English and, for upper classmen, Shakespeare. Mrs Wattel had a reputation around Lincoln High for being one tough lady, who ran a hard program. Even back then I loved writing, and I sucked at it then too. My big problem? The same that vexes me today, spelling and proofing. I leave out words, misspell others, nothing that anybody who reads this would be surprised to hear.

OK, heres my excuse, I can’t spell because.. because I was raised in a house where English was the third language, Ma spoke, in this order of proficiency, Arabic, French and, way down there, English. Pop? Arabic and Texan, and he never learned English, substituting Texan for the Queens Language. In a nutshell, NO ONE spoke normally, meaning without some goofy accent and as such, I couldn’t pronounce shit. It’s my reason and I’m going with it.

Mrs Wattel left an impression on me

The reason I remember her so well, I was scared shitless of her.. She was on tough broad. BUT she was an excellent teacher who got the best out of her students, although you hated it the whole time. Shakespeare was THE toughest humanities class in Stockton, bar none. One of the things that made it so tough, Mrs Wattel, in a effort to train our soft minds for college used the same format for everyone of her tests, and there were many. A 500 word extemporaneous essay.

She drilled into us how to do a 500 word instant composition.. 5 paragraphs, one introduction, three sentences introducing your point, three body paragraphs and a conclusion. G-d did we sweat those things. Back then essays were written in a little blue book that was stapled together and done by hand. For you youngsters that were you get a pencil, preferably a trusty Ticonderoga that you had to sharpen from time to time and held it in your hand and wrote out the essay. You could try to use a pen, but that required a small bottle of white out correction fluid that the typists used.

Oh, a typewriter was a sort of word processor that printed automatically as you wrote, and had no backspace key, or cut and copy function. Mistakes were corrected with white out or later, with little pieces of white tape that would insert into the printer and then re-type your mistake, rewind and correct. Neat times.

Well, I couldn’t spell for shit, even then, but I had some techniques for getting around that. Obviously we had dictionaries, and they were helpful.. we had “spelling dictionaries” neat little books that had the words spelled in alphabetical order, but didn’t waste time with definitions. My problem, (which continues today) some words I’m so far off that I’m not even in the phonetic ball park. For those words.. I would sort of smear my handwriting a bit, hoping she couldn’t tell. Like that fucking worked.

I also remember thinking that 500 words was longer than the Bible. HOLY COW. And look at me know, I can’t even get a thought out in under 300 words. Arlene Wattel, you’d be so proud.

Oh, and for you new readers, we shut down here at Old In The Way from about Sundown Friday to Sundown Saturday.. no blogging, and almost no Computer, if I can pull that off. Sometimes forbidden fruit tastes pretty good however. But definitely no porn on Saturday.

BTW.. to this day, I LOVE Shakespeare. Mrs Wattel would be very proud.

I kidding Peeps

5 Comments

Filed under Life

Tagged as , , , ,

February 10, 2009 · 3:12 pm

Home Town Woes

Seems my hometown has made the headlines in a way you really don’t want to see. Yahoo had the headline this week about America’s most miserable cities. Their metrics for determining the most miserable cities in the United States was based on; weather, economy or specifically unemployment, commutes, housing prices, crime, all the things that make you hate where you live, or do you?

Well topping the list as America’s Most Miserable Address was none other than Stockton California. Now, I’ve made a bit of fun at the Mudville over the years, ok a lot of fun, and made comments that I’d never go back, which I won’t, at least I don’t think I will I supposed you can never say never…

In case you missed the article or weren’t looking for it, here you go. http://realestate.yahoo.com/promo/americas-most-miserable-cities.html

I should start with the positive, you can’t really complain about the climate in Stockton. The rivers are pretty and it’s close to everything. After that, goodness is hard to find.

 

My data on Stockton goes back to the late 70′s and early 80′s. I graduated from Lincoln High School in 1981 and left the following fall for college. That was the end of my residency there, my parents continued to live in Stockton until the around 2000 or so, if my memory is accurate. According to the article the biggest issue in Stockton beating such stalwart towns as Detroit and Gary Indiana has to do with the housing market. To say that Stockton has had suffered from the declines in the Real Estate market is a massive understatement. According the article the town has seen home prices decrease by more than 30% a year for the last two years.. that’s on top of several years in the low double digits. That, my friends, is a lot of nest egg paper that has vanished from folks net worth. Put in perspective, my folks old house, on a lake, premium neighborhood, sold in 2005 for almost $600,000. Today? Less than $300,000.

I believe the decline in home value in Stockton is indicative of a bigger problem, desirability. For as long as I can remember Stockton has had some serious issues around crime. In the late 70′s the city topped the list of highest per-capita murder rate in the United States, beating out Atlanta at the time. Stockton has had gang issues since the first gangs were organized in the 50′s, it’s been a poster child for segregation, west coast style. In the South and in North East, segregation and racism was out front. People lived in neighborhoods based on ethnicity and race. In the South of course, much of the behaviors of segregation were legislated. With one notable exception California didn’t have the same overt racist attitudes that existed elsewhere. (My exception being the Alien Exclusion acts that prohibited people born on other countries (Asia) from owning property in California. A measure designed to keep the Chinese workers who built the railroads and raised the levees in the Sacramento-San Joaquin river delta making the areas multi-billion dollar agribusiness possible to this day, from settling and staying in the areas found themselves. A very interesting story on this concerns the town of Locke, in the delta.. ) the other exception of course, Japanese Interment, which affected Stockton families in a big way.

No, racism in California and Stockton as well, was more sublime, but just as effective. The part of town I grew up in was set up as it’s own little incorporated area with it’s own high school, outside of the Stockton Unified as a way of enforcing racial covenants against African Americans and Asians, in Stockton Filipinos were particularly targeted. After WWII Stockton had it’s own Little Manila with the largest Filipino population in the United States. In the mid 50′s then Mayor, Dean Di Carli enacted an urban renewal plan which for all purposes leveled Little Manila. They sure didn’t want those folks moving north. The effect was long lasting on the demographics of the town, creating white flight neighborhoods and schools on the north side of town. Because the school district in North Stockton had only one high school, the founders were able to anticipate desegregation and keep their district free of inter-racial troubles in Stockton’s city schools.

Another factor in this mix, Stockton is/was a huge agri-business town. While you may not want Mexicans and Filipinos in your schools, you needed them in the fields and at the canneries. So large tracts of South and East Stockton were left alone as low income neighborhood where workers could live and where the city spent $0 on services. So, well in to the 70′s you have a pattern of isolated neighborhoods with very little interaction between them in town. I would have been as out place on Charter Way, the main drag in South Stockton as I would be in Beaumont Texas.. they were just as alien to me, except one was only 5 miles from home.

The final straw of discrimination that contributed to Stockton’s volatile mix was more a County problem. San Joaquin County is made up of several, what were then small towns and the county seat, Stockton. San Joaquin is an agricultural powerhouse, and cheap labor is needed, I’ve mentioned that. These small towns however, Lodi, Tracy, Angels Camp etc, had their own version of the Covenants we saw in Stockton, only they applied to the whole town. I remember growing up wondering why Lodi, the town the immediate north, had no minorities living there. (this was about 1975) I mean there were 20,000 people in Lodi, and I never saw a single person of color, of for that matter, not one of the 300 families at our Synagogue lived in Lodi. Weird as it’s a nice town. Later in college, I met a fellow who become one of my closest friends, a Lodi kid. Asking him the question he sort stopped and related that he had asked his mother the same question growing up. The answer “No reason Son, those people just can’t find jobs in town..” For some reason…. Tracy California? If you saw the documentary on the California Nazi Party that came out in the 70′s, California Riech a film from 1975much of which was set in Tracy, you know why no one settled there.

So, here you go, a rich racial mix, but without any attempt to integrate the community, instead you have abject poverty on one side of town, wealth on the other, a sure setup for issues.

The next factor, the housing boom of the 90s and early 2000′s. Stockton just to far out to be an official part of the Bay Area. Yet, as housing prices in the bay soared way beyond the means of working families, the more affordable real estate values of the Central Valley became way to tempting, trumping the two and half our commute. Tracy, the west of Stockton and a half hour closer to the Bay Area took off big time. Development went wild, speculation went crazy, the town tripled in size in a few years with mile after mile of generic California style stucco neighborhoods with half million dollar homes. The next development up the road was a tract of land in South Stockton. In order to make those homes desirable (cheap) they were built on the cheap. Smaller than what you’d see in Tracy they were priced right and sold well. However, they were up against some of the roughest neighborhoods in an already rough and ready town, the fences around the development sort of told the story. It was almost homesteading.

Futher to the north bigger more expenseive homes were being built and Stockton was booming, a new ball park for the local minor league team, redevelopment of the previously redeveloped west side. A new riverfront park.. things were looking up. Fritz Grupe Co. One of the original architects of the Stockton’s White Flight neighborhoods in the 60′s and 70′s built a development of mulit million dollar homes west of the freeway for the executives of all the new companies and business expected in town..

In the mid 2000′s, the wheels started to come off. The earliest twinges of recession were being felt in California. The Tech Boom was over, housing prices in the Bay Area were starting to fall and the allure of Stockton was fading fast. As the Bay Area became more affordable the idea of driving a couple hours each way to work lost its appeal. Stockton’s crime problem, which never went away became more of a detriment to families, and the biggest issue, lack of professional infrastructure, Stockton has no big companies, no large job base, it’s a service economy gone haywire. In a perfect storm, all the above came together and the housing marking in town has crashed. Crashed, and continues to crash in a death spiral. People are in upside down on mortgages by half or more, causing folks to walk out on their loans.

My fear for Stockton is that we haven’t seen rock bottom yet. I’m afraid that we’re going to see the empty neighborhoods of Detroit, depopulated brown zones which won’t see new residents for anytime soon. The sad fact is the economy in Stockton can’t support the numbers of people living there, the future doesn’t look so bright.

3 Comments

Filed under Life

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,