30th North Miami Reunion

During the three years I attended North Miami Senior High School (1966–1968), I was not (what one would consider part of the in-crowd, a.k.a the "cool kids." I wasn't a football player; so I was never able to "date" any of the hot looking cheerleaders. My dad wasn't a lawyer so I wasn't able to run in the same circles as the kids with the nice clothes and new cars. I was just an average kid who was preoccupied with finding South Florida's perfect wave.

But in June 1968, I bid adios to those hallowed halls of hell to enter the real world. Its pretty obvious by reading this story, you can tell I was not really one of the "movers and shakers" at my school. I (kinda sorta) marched to the beat of a different drummer (probably John Bonham*) and I didn't give a rat’s ass about participating in any insipid high school activities.

* For those of you, who are musically challenged, John Bonham played drums for Led Zeppelin

The LATE - Rick Shaw

On Friday night, I attended a cocktail party reception hosted by an old (thought to be dead) local radio DJ legend Rick Shaw. Shaw, circulated throughout the crowd of 200+ all night long, shaking the hands of men and hugging the large breasted women. The skinny one's were all but ignored. With each shake of the hand or crunch of the bosom, all the demented DJ said was … "Hey - I’m Rick Shaw and I’m 68 years old!"

And when the old fart wasn't shaking and crunching, he sequestered himself in a dark corner, stuffing his face with cold hors d'oeuvres.

I too spent most of that evening sucking down $5.00 domestic beer and circulating the crowd in search of old friends. But as luck would have it, every time I turned around I kept bumping into more and more of them; the god damn "cool kids." I tried real hard that evening to put aside my prejudices and complete disdain for these egotistical pukes. I made a point of reintroducing myself to a few of them with whom I share some history - some as far back as second grade.

Without exception, in every case, these rude assholes acted as if I was a panhandler in search of spare change. I have to admit that it was somewhat gratifying to see how some of these (once hot babes) have aged. One in particular, an ex-cheerleader, looked like the poster child for Anorexia. This woman’s face was pulled so tight from numerous plastic surgeries that her smile literally stretched from ear to ear.

I have come to the conclusion that they were assholes in '68 and they're still assholes 30 years later. One of the few exceptions... my friend George Butticaz... (far right)

Having been absent from those hallowed halls of hell for 30 years, I decided to pay the old place a visit. Aside from barbed wire and graffiti, it's just way I remembered it - or so I thought. Consumed with this burning desire to return, just inside the huge double entry doors I was greeted by this very large woman, armed with a chemical deterrent and what appeared to be a Louisville Slugger baseball bat.

I explained to her that I graduated from here 30 years ago and was interested in walking around the grounds... for old times sake. She stretched out the huge bat and pointed me to the Principals Office. She then muttered something about getting a hall pass. It seemed rather odd that NOW I was getting a hall pass but I was a student... I NEVER had a hall pass.

Having secured the hall pass, I meandered the corridors in utter amazement. I had actually NO RECOLLECTION of having attended this school. Nothing looked familiar. I seemed to be constantly looking over my shoulders. With every step I took, there were eyes watching my every move. Thoughts of a modern day "Blackboard Jungle" ran through my mind. I just thank goodness that I didn't have to send my kids to my old alma mater.