In a West End town, a dead end world
“Lost in the high street, where the dogs run
Roaming suburban boys
Mother’s got a hairdo to be done
She says they’re too old for toys
Stood by the bus stop with a felt pen
In this suburban hell…”
-The Pet Shop Boys - “Suburbia”
In September of 1985 I was 14 years old and entering the ninth grade, full of puberty fueled self-doubt and a lack of any self-knowledge. And what a disastrous year it was. I spent a good part of the school year in a cold war with my best friend over a girl who I don’t even remember. My Mom had begun to let me make my own fashion decisions and if you were ever to see my school photo from this year (which you shan’t) you would see that I was not prepared for that level responsibility. Unlike most places in the States, ninth grade in Columbia County, Florida was not the beginning of High School but a sort of purgatory between it and Junior High. So, the excitement of beginning High School - new people, a new school - was absent. It was just another year stuck with the same classmates, stuck in the same social stratum without any hope of improving my level of coolness. I was firmly entrenched in the sort of geeky academic crowd and with glasses, a full palate of pimple, a skinny physique and a funny name and accent. In short, I was an easy target for merciless teasing.
Here’s an example. I used to get teased for wearing thick glasses - “four eyes”, that sort of standard unoriginal fare. To give the teasers credit, it was fair enough as one of the (poor) fashion choices I made was to pick glasses with photochromic lenses. This technology was a little ways from perfected in the mid 80’s so that I always walked around - whether in direct sun or in the dark - with some level of tint in the lenses. Some time in the ninth grade I finally got contact lenses. I remember being so excited on the first day that I was going to school without my glasses on - it was going to be a new day for me, new opportunities for popularity and I was sure that the girls of the Lake City 9th Grade Center would swoon on first sight. I strutted proudly around all day up until P.E., the most tortuous class of all. We were playing basketball or something like that and I made a mistake, as it was the norm for me to do, and one of my classmates yelled out to me: “Get it together, big nose.” If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. God, high school sucked.
I spent a good part of my high school years dreaming of escape. One of the things that got me away from where I was - this small town in north Florida where my social class of “nerd loser” was well established and irrevocable - was the occasional song on the radio or MTV. Some time in my ninth grade year I saw the video for The Pet Shop Boys’ “West End Girls” and I was vaulted out of Lake City for three and a half minutes. The misty London montage as the video opens was so foreign to my experience in a small Southern town. The rail thing coiffed and tailored Neil Tennant and dark, semi-transparent Chris Lowe strolling along the Thames offered an entirely different version of manhood than the thick chested and red necked guys that made my school days miserable. I bought the Pet Shop Boys debut LP “Please” as soon as it was released and wore the cassette out that school year. Songs like “West End Girls, “Suburbia” and “Opportunities” kept me sane through the ninth grade.
As I was walking along the Thames yesterday The Pet Shop Boys cover of “Always on My Mind” brought a lot of this rushing back. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to go through ninth grade again with the self-confidence, and aplomb that I’ve got today. Would things have been different? Or would a reasonably well adjusted adult man still be bullied and teased into submission? One of my favorite expat bloggers recently expressed a wish to go to her 20th high school reunion. Mine is coming up as well (2009) and I personally can not imagine anything more tortuous. First of all, I would have to return to a place to which thankfully (thank you for moving away Mom & Dad) I have no ties nor wish to return. Second, I fear that all the confidence and positive self-image I have cultivated for the past two decades would collapse under the scrutiny of cheerleaders with a half dozen kids and a job at the Wal-Mart and aging, flabby football players. Nope, not interested in finding out. I’m as happy as could be with where I am in life right now. I think I’ll just stick with The Pet Shop Boys as a reminder of that time.
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Aw, poor Chris. High school sucked for everybody, I think. I just skipped out on my 10 year. I didn’t even open the emails. I’m like you, I thought I would never get out of that place, why on earth would I go back?!
I dealt with things differently, though. I was the resident hippie-art chick. I woulda never been in the cool crowd (had the wrong address) so I decided to become the complete opposite. It got me through, anyway!
25 Jan 2008 at 4:21 pm
Thanks for the song– it will go on my 80’s nostalgia mix. It is true that those glimpses of life (different, even if not always better) opened up a larger world beyond the petty bullying, popularity games and tribalisms of boring, anti-intellectual middle-american high school.
Enjoy walking along the Thames. That was one of my favorite parts of living in Oxford.
25 Jan 2008 at 7:27 pm
Please please please can we see the tinted glasses?
25 Jan 2008 at 7:28 pm
High School wasn’t much fun. In a school like mine, well, it was so small (17 kids in my class; ~90 in the whole H.S.), there is only one crowd so you either belonged or you didn’t. I didn’t really belong, so I kind of just went and didn’t talk much. I, fortunately, got teased probably a normal amount for any H.S. student. I guess taking martial art classes since the age of 9 prevented most kids from doing too much.
25 Jan 2008 at 7:34 pm
I don’t even have a picture from that era, Nichole, or that’s my story anyway.
Martial arts would have been a great idea in hindsight.That being said, even the Karate Kid used to get teased until he kicked that surfer guy’s ass and I’m a pacifist.
25 Jan 2008 at 8:30 pm
Fear does not exist in this dojo, does it?
No, Sensei!
26 Jan 2008 at 12:13 am
I am pretty sure I have a picture from that era, tinted lenses and all. Perhaps a deal could be made concerning that bit of material that appeared in the Lake City Reporter that you have in your possession?
What a god-forsaken shithole Columbia High School was (and presumably still is). I certainly will not be showing up for the 20th reunion. I wouldn’t even go to my wife’s - and she was even popular (this still makes me somewhat suspicious of her character) - sort of a Queen of the Nerds type, to borrow from “Say Anything.” Really the reunion is a no-win situation: either you see what sad losers all the people you hated now are, living their lives of quiet desperation, and you feel bad about yourself for being glad they are sad losers, or you see how successful and happy all the people you hated are, and then you just feel bad about yourself. Stay away and enjoy walking along the Thames, something those pathetic bastards will never experience. (The important thing is that I am not at all bitter about the entire experience, as you can see).
26 Jan 2008 at 4:26 am
High School. One of those words about sums it up, if I remember correctly. Chances are I don’t.
Thanks for the Heathers reminder!
26 Jan 2008 at 11:04 am
Jamie - Sinead reckons she was popular in high school as well. I can attest that her character is definitely suspect. What material from the Lake City Repeater?
26 Jan 2008 at 6:27 pm
I went to my five year high school reunion, and it was the biggest waste of my time. My fifteen year reunion came and went, and I have absolutely no qualms about the fact that I skipped it. I don’t talk to anyone from that time period, so why bother? I, too, went to a redneck-from-hell school. The day we went to register there was a guy driving a pick-up truck with a rebel flag flying from the tailgate whooping and hollering out his window as he drove in circles in the parking lot. I knew I was in for two years of pure hell. Blech.
Not Afraid To Use It’s last blog post..Boomerangs & Ballerinas
28 Jan 2008 at 6:02 am
This is such a painful post (in the nicest possible way). It always infuriates me that the kids with the most to give are denigrated by the mediocre majority who, rightly but sadly, lack the self esteem to ‘live and let live’.
As the elder statesman of this comment group (obviously, as I just attended my THIRTY YEAR reunion) I gotta say that time is a great healer. I’m afraid I too had a reasonably good experience at H/S (sorry Chris) although, like most kids, the down times seemed like chasms and the up times like…well…like…whatEVA. We were so blase. Of course I was in a completely different social context. I went to a private girls school (Annesley, Sinead) and I LOVED it. I loved complaining about it! We were SO badly done by…….hats, gloves, no jumpers with blazers. Our headmistress was a bitch (never married…..wonder why? ….hysterical giggles) We were all expected to do well and go to University (Sheesh…..why can’t I be an individual and work in a factory if I WANT to????) and, worst of all, there were no BOYS in our school…..(more hysterical giggles accompanied by eyelash fluttering and skirt hitching)……..pathetic. We did not know how lucky we were.
Even within these fairly laid back halls there were the bluestocking girls who have gone on to become QCs or involved in cranio facial surgery. We gave them hell, not for being bright but for being socially inept. There were plenty of us who were bright but tempered it with a healthy love of teenage dissent and Sportgirl (fashion shop)! I have loved going back and, with maturity, meeting those girls, who while still slightly socially inept, have brilliant careers in fascinating areas. Who have married and had talented and often beautiful children. Who are great contributors to our society and nowadays don’t mind a drink. In a way, I too have contributed to the emotional wellbeing of many classmates I am sure. Having shown great promise at school, been House V Captain and Social Club President……..I am now……..a teacher. I see many girls glow in the knowledge that I am now so incredibly mundane. But that’s ok. I’m glad they feel better. I am what I am, made my choices and wouldn’t have done anything differently. The things that were important have changed and the opportunity to build bridges and mend relationships is a fantastic growth experience. Did you see that chick flick ‘High School Reunion’?? Makes you cringe but has a few good things to say about life too. I am glad you guys are all what you are despite the horror of High School. Makes me feel better as a teacher. I mean, compared to the kids, what else can I do to you??????
arizaphale’s last blog post..Best Shot Monday: Why wear an apron?
29 Jan 2008 at 12:46 pm
I have three things to say:
1) I’m pretty sure that about 15% of the pickups in my HS parking lot had rebel flags somewhere on them (don’t tell me FLA isn’t the South;)
2) The mascot of the first college I went to was the Blue Stockings and I’ve never heard that term used since…until today, thanks Arizaphale.
3) Kreese: What do we study here?
Karate Class: THE WAY OF THE FIST SIR.
Kreese: And what is that way?
Karate Class: STRIKE FIRST. STRIKE HARD. NO MERCY SIR.
29 Jan 2008 at 11:34 pm
Thanks for the post. I can relate. I was also a freshman in high school back in September 1985 when I first heard “West End Girls” By the Pet Shop Boys. Still one of my all time favorite songs and all time favorite music videos.
David’s last blog post..LESSON LEARNED THE HARD WAY
13 Feb 2008 at 1:38 am
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06 Jun 2008 at 11:45 pm
man how come this is the first time i’ve read this post? classic
SSG’s last blog post..Isolated tribe spotted in Brazil
19 Jun 2008 at 5:04 pm
[…] I’ve already written about one of these incidents in which I found myself at the edge of the herd (involving glasses, P.E. and appendages), but I’ve got another for your carnivorous pleasure. The closest I ever got to being physically bullied is when I made the mistake of aspiring to a predator’s place in the high school food chain. I was crap at ball sports but was a pretty decent swimmer. I earned a high school letter in swimming in my junior or senior year. That was fine, but I made the mistake of deciding that I would like to dress in wolves clothing - I ordered a letterman’s jacket. On a day that, unsurprisingly in hindsight, resembled that day in P.E. class a few years earlier I proudly walked through the doors of my high school wearing my shiny new purple and gold letterman’s jacket. With my head held high I wandered the halls of my high school for aI don’t remember how long it took for a couple of football players to corral me against a wall. They explained to me, very clearly and none too politely, that only proper athletes - football, basketball or baseball players - were permitted to wear letterman’s jackets. They convincingly expressed their opinion that if I wished to keep my limbs fully intact that I wouldn’t wear the letterman’s jacket in their presence. The jacket stayed in my locker for some time*, fortunately without me in it. […]
22 Oct 2008 at 8:56 am