Let me start off by saying I went to an all boys high school. There was a number

of public high schools that separated the boys and girls back then. My high

school, Baltimore City College, had been doing it since 1928, a long time to

keep horny teenagers apart.

Next to the school, but separated by a street, was Eastern High School, a high

school for girls. There was a rumor floating around the entire time I attended

the school, that a underground tunnel existed connecting the two schools. To my

knowledge, no student ever found that tunnel, though some were lost in the

attempt.

Due to the number of students attending City College, we were put on shifts. The

first shift was from 8 AM 'till noon, for juniors and seniors. The freshmen and

sophomores went from noon 'till 4PM.

I remember the 1st and 2nd year students complaining, to any one who would

listen, about starting classes so late in the day (this shifting started in my

junior year so I avoided it). I can't say I blame them. It was a hell of a thing

to sleep in, eat some breakfast, watch some television, and basically get  a goof off mood firmly established, then realize you had four hours of school ahead of you.

I was lucky enough in my junior and senior year to acquire a friend with a car.

It wasn't  much of one, an old blue Volkswagen Beetle, but it had four wheels

and an engine and got us from point A to point B.

 

Occasionally we would hook school, which seems ridiculous when I think back on

it. I mean we did get off at 12 noon. You would have thought we could have

handled those four morning hours.

The reason we cut school was very arbitrary. We would sit in the school parking

lot and listen to music on the beetle's AM radio until the last possible minute

and make a mad dash for homeroom.

If the song 'Homeward Bound' by Simon and Garfunkel came on the radio during

this wait period, we would cut school. It was as simple as that. Of course,

there were other days when we just simply didn't want to go to school when

pretty much any song would do. I seem to remember cutting once when 'Exodus' by

Ferrante and Teicher came on.

The weird thing about our cutting classes is we'd usually end up in a place

designed to educate. More than once we traveled to The Smithsonian Institute and

other museums in Washington, D.C.. Other times we'd end up in the public library

reading books.

Our classes, after a 10 minute homeroom (what was the purpose of homeroom

anyway), were divided up into 40 minute segments. You had 5 minutes between

each class to hurry outside and grab a quick smoke.

There were no girls to impress, so the classes themselves were relatively quiet.

Of course there was the occasional prank to liven things up. We never messed

with the teachers though. They were a serious bunch who wouldn't hesitate to

show you detention. I believe there was some heavy drinking going on after hours

with a few of those teachers. They always seemed hung over and short tempered.

I must tell you the worst possible punishment a humorless teacher could inflict

on a rowdy student. Before the shifts went into effect at our school, our school

cafeteria was bustling with activity between the hours of 10 AM and 1 PM, when

lunch was served. A student who was considered a troublemaker (yep, that was me

sometimes) would be given trashcan duty for a week.

Trashcan duty went like this. For 45 minutes at lunch time, for a full week, you

would walk around the crowded cafeteria pushing a large trashcan on wheels. In

theory, your fellow students would walk up to your can, as you passed them, and

deposit their trash in it. In fact, they never did that. What they would do is

use your trash can as target practice. The good students would use your can to

practice their passing accuracy. The bad students would aim at you. Believe me

high on a hill overlooking the city. A reminder of times good and bad, and

trashcans on wheels.