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I graduated in 1970. We were the same, basically. No jeans, but we could wear sneakers, girls could not wear trousers except after school like if working on a float or a banner. If you wore dressy flared trousers you were a dope-smoking pinko radical anarchist. The published dress code was long, and the part that will forever stick with me was about boys' haircuts: "No ducktails, fenders or sideburns."
I graduated in '74. I guess I was pretty lucky regarding such things as dress codes and hair length/styles. Our high school's nickname was hippie high school.I graduated high school in 68. The dress code was strict for males and females and no long hair for men, no sneakers, no jeans, no t-shirts, no pants for women, dress length, etc. That year there was a lawsuit by a student in another town who had been expelled because of his long hair (which was actually sideburns). He won the case. The next year (69) my high school was unrecognizable. I was amazed at what my younger sister and her friends were able to get away with. And I felt "cheated". I was in college by then and got away with all those previous transgressions so I didn't feel too bad. My parents were another story.
An old girlfriend's father had the numbers on his arm.Tattoos and religion is an interesting subject.
Religious perspectives on tattooing - Wikipedia
Some religions allow it. Jews are against tattoos and cite the scriptures to justify it. People were force tattooed during the Holocaust. That association makes it even more abhorrent now.
Owners of a hotel I played in on Miami Beach also did. The clientele was ~95% retired northeastern US Jewish. We often backed Borscht Belt entertainers. Learned a bit of Yiddish on that gig.I graduated in '74. I guess I was pretty lucky regarding such things as dress codes and hair length/styles. Our high school's nickname was hippie high school.
An old girlfriend's father had the numbers on his arm.
While we're on the subject of clams, way back in this thread I described some of the antics of a successful wacky disco/new wave band I played in. The demented genius guitar player was the "creative" force behind the antics. He used to give nicknames to all the members and introduced us as such. The sax player was and will be forever known as "Clams Oreganatto". I was christened "Al Binoe".
Bart Simpson had a lot of good stage names to use.
I graduated in '74. I guess I was pretty lucky regarding such things as dress codes and hair length/styles. Our high school's nickname was hippie high school.
An old girlfriend's father had the numbers on his arm.

I went to a few H.S. reunions* starting with the 40th(2004). Fewer people each year. Class of '64 is shrinking almost daily.Working the tail end of what I call a well-deserved brew on the tail end of a well-deserved Thursday. Odin's content, I'm happy, Odin's happy, we're all happy as a clam. What if a clam is my spirit animal? I know what my spirit animal is?
View attachment 4275908
my current trip, and in great part a reason for this beer at bedtime (and I'll be up in three hours for biology) is Ari's head coach asked her current coaches who might wish to take on more with the upcoming summer cohort. I would be among those current coaches, and accepted the invitation.
Come the 'morrow, I record my video for the cohort.
Graduated university in 78. We have a virtual reunion in a couple weeks. I see some names I know. So many names, people, faces, voices I know, and who in the roster of attendees should be present but a gentleman with four names and a "IV" appendage ... who I've not seen nor spoken to since 78.
And it seems to me to many I'm that name on the headstone, someone remembers but I'm so very far away that I may as well be lost to them. Uncertain what of the 1978 version of me brings me to join this reunion for the very first time since I graduated. Uncertain why I contacted them to let them know where I am.
I know exactly why I'm in touch with my alma maters ... maybe there's a part of me who needs to be acknowledged for her wisdom
but a beer will do.
I sometimes use my real first name(Mike)with a fake surname, like Ruffone.
Working the tail end of what I call a well-deserved brew on the tail end of a well-deserved Thursday. Odin's content, I'm happy, Odin's happy, we're all happy as a clam. What if a clam is my spirit animal? I know what my spirit animal is?
View attachment 4275908
my current trip, and in great part a reason for this beer at bedtime (and I'll be up in three hours for biology) is Ari's head coach asked her current coaches who might wish to take on more with the upcoming summer cohort. I would be among those current coaches, and accepted the invitation.
Come the 'morrow, I record my video for the cohort.
Graduated university in 78. We have a virtual reunion in a couple weeks. I see some names I know. So many names, people, faces, voices I know, and who in the roster of attendees should be present but a gentleman with four names and a "IV" appendage ... who I've not seen nor spoken to since 78.
And it seems to me to many I'm that name on the headstone, someone remembers but I'm so very far away that I may as well be lost to them. Uncertain what of the 1978 version of me brings me to join this reunion for the very first time since I graduated. Uncertain why I contacted them to let them know where I am.
I know exactly why I'm in touch with my alma maters ... maybe there's a part of me who needs to be acknowledged for her wisdom
but a beer will do.
I've gone by "Mike" for so long that if someone calls me "Michael", I'm like, "who, me?"Morrighan is my middle name, and that's my professional name. Friends call me by my first name, and not with all the syllables.
"Hey, Bob!" and 9 guys turn around.I have been called by my middle name since birth. It seems to be a trend in my family, but it could be that both grandfathers, maternal and paternal uncles, great uncle, etc, all shared my first name. Family reunions, were confusing, to say the least.
Uhhhh, no!I had to call a full stop when someone tried "Pudding Pie" on me
"Hey, Bob!" and 9 guys turn around.![]()