Reading the comments in the entry below, I'm reminded of an amusing episode from my own high school days.
It's amusing today, that is. Back then I was sweating bullets.
The year was 1985. Yours truly was on the cusp of emerging from the cocoon of lower classman geekery to assume the Monarch butterfly status of 11th grade coolness (okay, maybe gypsy moth status...I was still in band, after all). The Cold War was thawing, thanks to the overtures of Mikhail Gorbachev and the music of Rush, whose new album "Power Windows" was changing the world one dateless wonder at a time.
Among the popular styles of the day were the ubiquitous t-shirts of the Corona Beach Club. Even as a teenager, I suspected that Corona beer, an up and coming brew at the time, didn't in fact have a beach club, but I kept such dangerous information to myself. High school is not the place for the malcontent, or the whisperer of secret truths. I kept a low profile, without a Beach Club t-shirt of my own. Publicly, I derided the sheeplike masses who costumed themselves so identically. Privately, I had no clue where to buy one. I was still in the habit of wearing Hawaiian shorts and Star Wars t-shirts, after all.
What I did have was a Lone Star Beer t-shirt. Provided by some friend of my parents, the shirt featured the words "Lone Star" over the front pocket. On the back, running the full length of the shirt, was a Lone Star beer bottle. Attached to the bottle's neck was an air hose, which ran over the shoulder, ending in a regulator over the right breast. I was fond of this saucy scuba sendup, and wore it to school as often as our laundry schedule would allow. Until one day...
I was taken aside at lunch by Coach Terrel (corrected per Tim's remarks in the comments). He was about 6' 5" and fond of wearing those goddamned gray Bike shorts that are issued along with your kinesiology diploma. He pulled me aside one day at lunch to tell me I'd have to change my shirt. The conversation, to the best of my recollection, went something like this:
Pete: Why do I have to change my shirt?
Coach: Because it's got a big beer bottle on the back of it.
Pete: So?
Coach: So, clothing that advertises alcohol or tobacco products aren't allowed in school.
Pete: Can I just wear it inside out?
Coach: Hold on. [He lifts the back of my shirt] No, you can still see it.
Pete: Well, I don't have another shirt here at school.
Coach: Well, then I guess you'll have to go home and change.
Not having a car at this time, going home meant either an hour's walk or calling my mother to pick me up. Neither of which was a pleasant option.
I should point out that this coach was the worst kind of faculty member: bullying, sarcastic, and utterly unwilling to negotiate about anything. I knew it was futile to argue, so I did the only thing left to me: I ruined everyone else's fun.
Pete: Fine. But how come Tracy gets to wear his Corona Beach Club shirt?
Coach: [Looking over at Tracy] What do you mean?
Pete: I mean, half this school walks around all day wearing Corona t-shirts and you don't make them go home.
Coach: ...
Pete: You know Corona is a beer, right?
Coach: Son of a...
The edict came down the next day: no more Corona Beach Club shirts would be allowed. There was a great deal of grumbling and cries of "students' rights" and other such bullshit. I kept my mouth shut and silently entreated the God of Adolescent Smartasses that Coach Terrel would do so as well. To his credit, he never finked me out. More likely, he wanted to take credit for spoiling everyone's fun.
So now the secret's out. My apologies to A&M Consolidated's classes of 1985-88, who were forced to dig out those old Izods and OP shirts to compensate for the ban.
So, Pete, any interesting band camp stories?
Con-form or be cast out!
It's a good thing the A&M Consolidated code of silence stayed in effect, or you might have been immediately banned in perpetuity from the Food Court at the Post Oak Mall.
Next in the serial: the infamous '86 locker raid for Skoal.
HW: I've honestly never seen it. It's that cartoon done in Dr. Katz shaky-animation style, right?
Denny: The only time I went to band camp was after vacationing with my family in Aruba in '86. I got infections in both ears, and was pretty much deaf for three days. That what you had in mind?
Nor: Unlikely, since I was working there at the time.
And judging by the number of circular back pocket bulges in those days, I'm fairly sure confiscating smooth, refreshing, smokeless tobacco wasn't a priortity.
We started a petition to allow the wearing of hats in classrooms. All we ended up doing was getting a secret administration memo generated that banned girls from wearing hats indoors, too...
And this was the mid 1980s, so that mattered.
Coach Patton was a pretty cool guy. Could Mike Terral have been the anti-beer coach....polyester shorts, goofy classes, Hitler moustache. He was the hoops coach. could have also been Glen Harmon, one of the football coaches. I think Patton was a teacher at the elementary school -- not sure he coulda busted you.
A terrific blog, Pete. This was quintessential high school. And I too had one of those Corona Beach Club tee shirts...all the rage at the time.
Come to think of it, it might've been Terrel. Patton was the one on who paddled me my first day of school after moving to College Station. Must be why he sticks in my mind.
You are indeed fortunate that your role in the Corona ban never got out.
You'd have been branded a Sitzplinker for life.
Do you realize how much your script reads like an exchange between Brendan and Coach McGuirk on Home Movies?