I remember my end of middle school very well even though it was forty years ago. It was especially poignant for me because, as noted in my last entry, I was leaving my elite private performing arts school (which I got full scholarships for each year, I might add) to join an arts-leaning public high school that I’d have to take the A train to every day where I knew no one and had no idea what to expect. That summer - the summer of ‘86 - I had a cassette of Peter Gabriel’s So with Tears for Fears’ Songs From the Big Chair on the other side which I listened to non-stop and still listen to regularly. I had recently seen American Graffiti for the first time and had become obsessed with the 50s, suddenly wearing my Salvation Army finds with much more intention. That summer we finally got a television after not having one for four years (I entertained myself by re-enacting musicals while listening to original cast albums, compulsively reading Little House on the Prairie or the CS Lewis Narnia series over and over, or making elaborate Victorian costumes for my cloth hand-made dolls), and I distinctly remember parking myself in front of the TV for the entire day all summer since there was nothing to do and nowhere to go. Sometimes I would watch Manhattan Cable’s Channel J, which featured all-nude talk shows, a guy named Ugly George who interviewed people on the street while his balls hung out of his shorts, and porn with large blue stars covering any naughty bits. Ah, the 80s in New York City.
Entering high school would be a huge culture shock. My first day of school I wore a neat skirt and blouse and ballet flats, picturing myself in American Graffiti, but soon learned this was not the way. My outfit quickly became ripped jeans, sneakers, and Jimi Hendrix t shirts. I talked to almost no one until April of that school year when an extrovert adopted me and insisted I join her for afternoon hangouts at Washington Square park, a moment that would change my life forever. I always thought moving around a lot taught me how to be adept at making friends, but lately I’ve been taking a second look at this assumption; being naturally shy and terrified of rejection, I think I actually suck at making friends but luck out when people who are good at it randomly choose to talk to me. When I think about how much I changed my speech, behavior, and appearance in that first year of high school in order to fit in and make friends, I wonder how much of that is “masking” and how much is just normal social adaptation that everyone does. The kids at Bobby’s school, from a distance, all appear to look and act exactly the same. While in the 80s I feel like it was more socially acceptable to make a statement with your appearance, I also know that even then you had to make the right statement. Turns out counter cultures can be even more restrictive and gate keep-y than culture itself.
Recently I came across the “fan theory” that the Alison character in The Breakfast Club was actually alone in detention and made up all the other characters in her mind - the stereotypical jock, princess, geek, and burnout. Mind blown! We have yet to show the kids any John Hughes movies due to the rampant sexism and racism, but I think they’re just about the age where we could show them with some guidance beforehand.
Last night I attended an informational zoom about a 10th grade trip to Korea that Bobby has been selected for. Turns out it’s going to cost $5400. Ummm next! There’s no way we can afford that, even eighteen months away. There is a senior trip; we’ll save for that instead - maybe things will be less gnarly by 2030 (please).
Money concerns dominate my thoughts right now, as I know they do for so many Americans. My event is lagging, and even though I’m fairly confident I’ll just squeak by this year, two years in a row of losses is not good, and makes me wonder if events like this will even be feasible going forward. Am I going to be out of business by the time Bobby graduates? After thirty years, are big dance events going to end because nobody can afford them anymore? I’m terrified.
In light of this, I’ve taken it upon myself to look into taking out a HELOC on the house. There’s zero reason not to - it’s just an emergency fund in case everything goes to shit (and even if everything doesn’t go to shit, I’ll for sure need it to pay for the collapsing garage wall and maybe to supplement the kids’ college funds). I’m working with the guy who did my refi during COVID, and he’s confident with my equity and good credit that I can get a good deal. So hopefully sometime in June that’ll be in place so I can feel less panicky. Boy would it be nice to not worry about money, huh?
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