This past Saturday, my high school (and the high school attended by nearly my entire family) had an open house/farewell celebration. It is closing it's doors after a million years in favor of a fancy new school on a fancy new plot of land. At first the notion of my school closing didn't bother me that much. But, the more I thought about it, I'm really going to miss that old, crappy building. Despite the trauma-inducing moments of my high school years, there were some good times thrown in there too.
As a marching band geek, I spent most of my free periods and study halls "practicing" in the band room. By practicing of course, I mean breaking into the stereo cabinet and playing music while we goofed off. Or, making out in practice rooms in the dark. Sometimes I wonder how we ever managed to memorize the songs for our performances.
The rest of the school may have looked down on us, but we thought we were cool. It was such a cloistered group that outside information didn't always make it through. We protected each other from the worst that high school had to offer. We were a team, of sorts, and at the end of the day, we always had each other. Of course, there was in-fighting and hierarchy, but as someone who always got to sit at the back of the band bus, most of that stuff didn't bother me.
So, as my old school gets mostly destroyed and it's football field re-purposed for a mini-mall, I just wanted to take this moment to say a bittersweet goodbye to my school. My sister was kind enough to send me a lovely photo reminder of the geek I used to be (see above). Let's just say that 1993 was a good year. Let's Go Big Red!!