‘Tis the season for Homecoming at campuses across the country. Harkening back to the Clown’s school days–and that takes an entire boatload of hark–he is reminded of the many traditions that surrounded these memorable and formative events. Evidently, however, things have changed during the harkening.
Back in the day, Homecoming would begin with a Homecoming-eve pep rally in front of a roaring bonfire, which had been professionally set by the local fire department, Walt and Jim Bob. The cheerleaders would flounce around, the student body would huzzah and the football coach would introduce the starting team to great cheers and promise everyone, including the firemen, that our team would annihilate tomorrow’s foe.
After that, the football players and cheerleaders would pair off, climb into their fathers’ cars, go park somewhere and make out. While that was going on, the firemen carefully extinguished the bonfire and those students without dates would return home, all revved up but with no one to grope. This sort of social imbalance is how masturbation got its start.
In the Clown’s tradition, our football team, exhausted from the previous night’s activities, would get soundly thrashed by some neighboring town that took its football way more seriously and hired actual football coaches to prove it.
Following the embarrassing defeat, the student body would repair to the HS gym for the Homecoming dance. There were only two requirements for attending the dance. First, one had to actually be a student at the school. Second, everyone had to dance in their socks lest the basketball court get marred.
The football players and cheerleaders would pair off, leave early, park somewhere and give each other hickies. The other students would dance, get all hot and bothered during the slow numbers, go home alone and repeat the previous night’s activity. We didn’t have any Jewish students and the Catholics always had Confession so, all in all, there wasn’t much guilt.
Homecoming dances, the Clown is here to tell you, have changed.
The Clown has a grandson experiencing his first year of high school in Northern Virginia. This incredibly accomplished, handsome and lucky DNA recipient, is set t0 attend his first Homecoming dance, but only after meeting certain contractual requirements. This involves an actual contract, created by the school administration. This document must be signed by the 14-year-old lad, his date and both sets of parents.
Among the contractual promises–to which they all have to agree–were these (and I use the contract’s own words):
- No straddling legs with partner
- No touching of breasts, buttocks or genitals
- No touching if dancing back to front
- No dancing in an inappropriate, lewd and lascivious manner such as “freaking” or “moshing”
- No bare midriffs or plunging necklines
- No see-through material
- No hats, bandanas, chains or canes
Well, I don’t know about you, but I certainly agree that most of these contractual rules seem appropriate for a high school dance. These kinds of activities would have had no place at my school’s Homecoming dance. No sir. These activities would have been kept private and limited primarily to the back seat of a car. Apparently, today’s teens don’t have cars and are compelled to bring their hormone-charged behavior directly to the dance floor. Shameful!
I do quibble with one of the restrictions. What’s wrong with bringing a cane to the dance? Seriously? When the current wife and I break out into some freak dancing in the kitchen, like when Bob Seger sings “Old Time Rock-and-Roll” on Pandora (we’re very hip to technology), if it weren’t for my cane, I couldn’t get a cringe-worthy twerk going. Those four little, rubber-tipped legs on the end provide the stability and confidence to shake some serious booty.
Give these kids a break, eliminate the cane restriction!
Observoid of the Day: If it weren’t for a bit of lascivious behavior now and then, we wouldn’t be here.