High School

When compared to the school I attended in the eighties, Cupertino High School looks almost entirely different now. Cupertino itself has become quite exclusive, as in "we're going to exclude you if you don't have lots of money", so the high school looks like it has gotten a rather extensive makeover. I recently watched an impressive video tour of the campus, which made it look very enticing indeed. When I drove by with Willow last weekend, she was amazed.

I attended school there from the Fall of 1982 through Spring, 1986. I could fill pages with memories, but for now, I'll just relate a few.

I remember riding my bike to school, especially in the Winter of my freshman year. It was an extremely wet rainy season, and at one point, nearby Steven's Creek Boulevard flooded when the creek backed up. I was pedaling my bike through at least two feet of water to get to school that day, but I was the kind of kid who didn't mind showing up soaking wet. Sometimes I'd go out of my way to do so, standing in the rain and failing to detour around puddles.

I made some friends who are still in my life today, including Wayne, Cristie, and Sylvia, although Sylvia didn't actually go to the same school. I met Cristie one morning when she came into take the attendance to the office. She was wearing a Metallica shirt, back before anybody really knew who they were, so I was intrigued enough to step out of my usual shell and become friends with her. Many of my lasting friendships had their genesis in similar musical tastes.

I can't remember my first meeting with Wayne. He's a couple of years older than me, and I remember him being surprised when the yearbooks came out and my picture was in the freshman section. He hadn't realized I was so much younger (two years was more of a big deal back then).

At one point, somebody stole a scale from one of the science classes, and I was blamed, for no other reason than I always wore a black trench coat and sat by the door. I think that trench coat was a gift from Sylvia, if memory serves. One science teacher was so sure that I'd done it that he burst into one of my classes and confronted me in front of everyone. I also got called to the principal's office, where the vice principal, a supercilious man named Mr. Dexter, not only accused me of stealing it, but stated that he had witnesses. I called him a liar, and eventually brought my parents in to get him to stop harassing me. The parental intervention worked, but I was still irritated that somebody in a position of authority would lie to my face about something. How naive I was.

Of course, I knew who had stolen the scale, but due to the teenage code of not ratting people out, I kept my silence. This was probably the first time I was profiled. I looked suspicious, therefore I must have done the crime. To be fair, I cultivated that look. I still kind of do. I like to confuse people.

Here are my high school ASB cards. I don't look particularly happy in them, except perhaps in the last one. Maybe I was anticipating being done with high school forever.

When I graduated, I showed up in sneakers, which was apparently unacceptable. I had to trade shoes with my dad, meaning that he had to hobble around in tight sneakers while I flopped around in overly large dress shoes. Under my robe, I wore a spiked belt and a Celtic Frost shirt. Sylvia, Cristie, and other friends showed up as well. In the picture, my brother Greg, who wasn't even in junior high yet, is wearing a Bloom County shirt and flipping off the camera.

Here are a couple of recent shots (taken by Wayne) of me and Sylvia, alongside our mutual friend, Devon.

And here are a couple of shots from 2009,with Wayne and Cristie, taken at a memorial for a guy named Sam Kress.

I got a record in the mail from Cristie last month, and it's really good. Get your copy here. I don't see Cristie, Wayne, or Sylvia very often, but we were good enough friends that years can go by and we just slip right back into the groove as if we'd just spoken yesterday. Here's to friendship.