Graduation and the Prom

It is early June and all parents are thinking two things. 1) I can hardly wait for this school year to end and 2) I am so proud of my daughter/son graduating from Middle School, High School, College.  They will be moving on — ready to remake this fractured world through thoughtful ideas and innovation.  it made me think of a marginally related subject – my High School Prom.

 I smile thinking about that evening and wonder how curious are the things that trigger distant memories. I recount this eventful night so that it will make my grandchildren laugh.  Closely linked to this story is the Ford Galaxie 500 with its 427 V8 engine.  Ford and Chevrolet were in a battle to build the fastest “muscle” car fueled by cheap gas and lots of new freeways in Southern California. 

My physical appearance could be described as the antithesis of the muscle car.  As a high school senior, I was over six feet and barely weighed in at 160.  I had some catching up to do in the body weight to muscle balance.  To protect the innocent, my prom date will be called Nancy.  Girls, dating, and growing up socially; was, along with my athletic pursuits, a failure.  In today’s vernacular I was challenged.  Having no steady girlfriend and a crush on the unattainable cheerleader; I, at the last minute, asked my friend Nancy to the prom.  Shockingly, she said yes, as inexplicably she was not otherwise committed. 

The prom was a formal affair to be held at the Santa Anita Race Track Turf Club.  At that age you rented tuxedos.  Having been scared by this experience, as soon as I could afford to, I always purchased tuxedoes like you would a blue suit.  It just seemed like the right thing to have in your wardrobe. A rented tux consisted of pants, jacket, shoes, shirt and a cummerbund (a broad waistband usually worn in place of a vest). The cummerbund will play an important role later in the story.  

I remember my parents had Buicks as family cars.  However, the year of my graduation my father switched to Ford.  He had purchased a Ford Galaxie 500 Fast Back with a 427 V8 engine.  Despite the weight of this car, it was fast.  It was a competitor to the Chevy 409 which the Beach Boys made famous in a song by the same name.  I don’t know----perhaps it was because I was accepted to the University of California; or because I had a date, or because I had not locked the car keys in the trunk (that’s another story for another day) or maybe because he just loved his son; but, when I asked my father if I could use his brand new super-fast car to go to the prom, he said YES!!!! A truly remarkable turn of events. This may have been my father’s dream car but my mother determined its color.  I would never have picked the color but, c’mon man, it was new and fast----Powder blue with white trim --- no judgement please.

Prom night

I was excited as I was leaving high school and heading to Santa Barbara in the fall.  I showered, took care of the requisite pimple in the middle of my forehead, went down stairs to say good bye to my parents and patiently listened to the be-safe-no-drinking send off.  I sat in this new car and contemplated the trust that my father had bestowed on me.  I started the car and headed out the drive way.  A block away from the house I hit the accelerator – wow this car was fast.  For the next hour the world was perfect.  Having picked up my date we headed to the Turf Club. 

The Santa Anita race track was an important place in Arcadia as it had an enormous parking lot which on race day was full, but, if the track was closed, this was the perfect place to learn to drive and everyone learned to drive there. Entering this massive parking lot, I drove the car to where others had begun to park.  I pulled into a space away from the others so as not to endanger my father’s car.  Parked, put the brake on, and opened the door to an unknown pending disaster.  ---- remember the cummerbund??) I walked around the car and opened Nancy’s door; stepped aside and closed the door.  Excited we hurriedly strode out to the party, within a second I was lying face down in the gravel.  I was so thin that the cummerbund, which was clinging to my nonexistent hips, had fallen straight down around my ankles, essentially tying them together; and now, my hands were bloody and painful.   Nancy stared at me with a look of bemused misunderstanding in the same way a horse looks at you when you have fallen and are laying on the ground.  The face said “what are you doing down there?”  With my bruised hands and ego, I pulled myself together and we headed to the party.  Things did not improve much…The dinner and dance were ok although I managed to spill on my white shirt, forced to dance and fought with the damn cummerbund. 

As was customary, many of us had arranged to attend the late-night show at the Coconut Grove after the prom dinner/dance.  Growing up in Los Angeles you have an odd relationship with distance and time.  The Coconut Grove was not next to the Santa Anita race track. It was 30 miles and 45 minutes away but if you grew up in So Cal that was the equivalent of being next door.  We left the prom and headed to the Grove.  It could have been we were listening to music or talking or just not paying attention but an hour later I had not found the Coconut Grove. I was in Long Beach 40 miles from where I was supposed to be!!!

If you needed to go somewhere in Los Angeles, my mother knew how to get you there.  I had already run out of embarrassment tickets so what did I do? – I called my mother.  Turns out I missed the turn off and was 40 miles off target.  Following my mother’s directions, we arrived at the Grove terribly late and sat behind a pillar for the show.  The rest of the evening was uneventful.  I was able to return my date to her home and I returned my father’s muscle car un- scared unlike my ego.  Lesson learned? Well, there were many.  Innovation has come to the rescue of future skinny, socially inept young boys who cannot find their way.  The wonderful innovation of GPS software could have saved my ego and my embarrassment.

Born too soon for the prom, but innovation has come to the rescue…

Fredric Steck

 

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