From The Scrapbook: Promenade

I recall we, as the Junior class of Sherburne-Earlville Central School, had the opportunity to vote on our 1989 Junior Prom theme. All of the nominees were then-current songs (as opposed to such evergreen themes as “Starlight In The Cafeteria”, “Romance Under The Basketball Hoops”, etc). I voted for “I’ve Had The Time Of My Life” because it seemed the most prom-ish. The winner was “When I’m With You”, a sleeper hit from Sheriff. Those who lived through the 80s will recall the keening of the chorus: “Bayyyyyyyyyyyy-bayyyyyyyy…ooh I get chills when I’m with youuuuuuuuuuuuu..” (“Keening” is today’s “Know Your Word Power” word!)

So our prom theme was “When I’m With You”. I recall my friend Todd and I going to the Tuxedo Junction and renting tuxes. I recall getting ready at home:

I went to the prom stag. In 1989 I was incredibly shy, and painfully socially awkward. Today I am…..48 years old. And maybe just slightly less socially awkward. (It’s no coincidence that my occupation, where I feel the most confident, places me in a small room by myself.)

My friend Todd took our friend Cassie to the prom, and we all sat together. which was nice. At some point they let a bunch of parents in to gawk at us and take pictures. I do not understand this tradition. Parents have plenty of opportunities to get pictures at home. After about 5 minutes of the gawk-fest you start to feel like some kind of circus act.

At the Junior Prom, a classmate named Hilary asked me to dance. Besides being in some of the same classes, we had done a skit for some kind of Spirit Week thing together–I played Phil Donahue and I don’t remember much else about it. But she wrote a very nice message in my yearbook, and at the Prom she asked me to dance. I have no idea why. Pity would be my guess.

Ooofff.

I look like a waiter on a cruise ship. Or a waitress (That feathered hair was not doing me any favors.)

It was quite warm as I recall, and–like Jerry Lewis in the final hour of the telethon–I had shed the jacket and loosened the tie before I got asked to dance. Looking at my pants brings the following to mind:

Well, man-eating pants, super-awkward steps or whatever, I’m glad Hilary asked me to dance. Every young lad should have a dance at their prom, even if they go stag.

***

Post Script:

In my Senior year, I hosted the Sherburne-Earlville Gong Show. Hilary, who asked me to dance and wrote nice things in my yearbook, was one of the judges. And when I introduced her to the packed audience, she kissed me on the cheek. It was a miracle I was able to regain my composure and continue hosting.