Labels: naïvety, pity date, purple, unrequited, champagne wishes & caviar dreams, home alone, Rit dye, rented clothes, XXL blog post, Commodore computers, Long John Silver's, opera gloves, Adidas
Everything in this post is true. Well, anyway, I remember everything happening this way. Whether that's the same thing would be an interesting discussion or
book, but far beyond the scope of this blog.
The prom theme decided upon by the junior class that year:
 |
Note: photo of city skyline is NOT representative
of the skyline of the small city where prom was held |
The invitations were mailed and the local cover band was booked, but your humble blogger was faced with a familiar problem: no date and few prospects. <
sad trombone sound> I had dated a girl off and on throughout our junior and senior years, but, to be honest, I had no idea how to properly handle a steady girlfriend and by this time, my ignorance had caused things to completely deteriorate. Foolish pride kept me from asking her to the prom that year and I take full responsibility for screwing up that relationship.
I had a major crush on a girl in the junior class for most of my senior year, but she had just starting dating the guy she would eventually marry. Oh-for-two. There were two possible dates in my church youth group, but I had pretty much burned those bridges earlier in the semester by being an unbearable jackhole. Oh-for-four. I asked a girl in my geometry class and was literally laughed at. Oh-for-five.
[
Pseudonyms follow.] The last class on my schedule during my senior year was Computer Math, in which we learned to program
Commodore PET computers and back-up our work on cassette tapes. A great way to end the school day, it was an easy course which gave me plenty of time to talk to two good friends also in the class, Mike and Evelyn. Mike and I both played trumpet in the school band and had similar tastes in music so we had plenty to talk about. He was (and I'm guessing still is) one of the nicest people I've ever met. We need more Mikes in this world. Evelyn and I had known each other for four years and had been in a few extracurricular clubs/activities together throughout high school. Evelyn had dated the same boy, Kirk, for several years, so I got daily updates about the drama surrounding that relationship. I'd had a little crush on Evelyn since I first met her, but to be fair, I had a little crush on half the girls in my high school because I was a typical teenage boy. A favorite album that spring was
In Heat. And I was.
And so it came to pass that Kirk did not invite Evelyn to prom, but instead asked a girl
from another school. Our rural town was small with just one high school, so to date a girl from another school meant putting some serious miles on your car; this was a major slap-in-the-face. As you would expect, this snub from Kirk had Evelyn in tears during Computer Math one afternoon. I did my best to comfort her, but I doubt my efforts consisted of more than a simple "It'll be okay." Of course, when I heard Evelyn say the words, "Now I don't have anyone to go to prom with," I quickly seized the opportunity and asked her if she'd like to go with me. She tearfully accepted and we were set. Sure, I suspected I was being used but at this point in time it no longer mattered.
In the weeks leading up to prom, Evelyn and I were often together outside of school as we worked out the details for the evening of prom. We spent a fair amount of time together shopping and at each other's homes. On Sunday afternoons, Evelyn liked to pick up food at Long John Silver's and drive to a local park for a picnic. Even though I don't particularly care for food from LJS, I played along in order to spend time with her. On its face, this all seemed very platonic, but I was falling hard and savored every second we spent together. Haven't been to a LJS since 1984, though.
I've always been a bit of a contrarian and for the prom my junior year, I decided to be different by wearing tennis shoes with my tuxedo (see below, special thanks to my date for allowing it). I realize that wouldn't so much as raise an eyebrow these days, but in 1983, it garnered several condescending eyerolls from members of my immediate family and, amidst the rice fields of rural south Texas, it was quite the trendsetting statement. So much so that I had a teacher come to me as prom neared in 1984 and ask, "What do you have planned for prom this year?" I didn't have an answer for him because I hadn't given it any thought. Besides, I didn't know I had set such expectations.
 |
| I'm thinking they were Adidas. I could wear white because it was after Easter. |
Evelyn and her sister had found some purple crepe material and decided to make her prom dress. As you'll see, they had the vision and the talent to pull it off. In an era of puffy sleeves, shoulder pads, and lace a'plenty, Evelyn opted for an elegant, timeless (and sleeveless) design. She decided that opera gloves would perfectly complete her outfit. I quickly had two thoughts: we should dye her gloves purple to match the dress and I would wear dyed purple gloves as well to match my tie and cummerbund. And while the other boys would be wearing pastel, gray or white tuxes with ruffled shirts, I would opt for black tails. Given a little more time, I could have come up with something better (maybe some
pinbacks or checkerboard Vans?), but that was as contrarian as it was gonna get that year. Again, it seems tame today, but I was the only boy wearing black, the only boy with purple accessories, and the only boy in tails at that dance.
We met at Evelyn's home on a weekend afternoon in April to dye the gloves on her stove-top. Neither of us had ever used Rit dye before and we each had just one pair of gloves, but somehow we didn't screw anything up. We simply followed the instructions on the box and the gloves went from white to purple. Gloves dyed, dress ready, tuxedo rented, flowers ordered - we were ready.
At this point, I think I should mention that my parents left me alone in the house on the weekend of prom. You read that right. Home alone. The best I can remember, they went to Houston for a wedding my father was officiating. They must have left Friday for the rehearsal and stayed in Houston until Sunday afternoon. Sort of a mini-vacation from their overbearing 17 year old son suffering from a bad case of senioritis. I can't blame them and at the same time I can't believe they did that.
On the morning of April 28, I set off by myself to the nearest mall in order to kill some time as I was a bit anxious about that evening's events. I'm fairly sure some vinyl was purchased but I can't recall which (best guesses:
It's My Life,
The Flat Earth, and/or "
The Reflex"). I also bought some purple earrings to give to my date that evening. Upon returning home that afternoon, I tried on the tuxedo I had rented and everything was looking good except my feet were way too wide to fit in those skinny rented shoes. At age 17, I didn't own a pair of black leather shoes, so I raided my dad's closet and grabbed a pair of his shoes. Even though they were at least 2 sizes too big, they fit better than the rented shoes which claimed to be patent leather but I think were actually rigid, shiny plastic. I haven't rented shoes since.
I can't remember when I was told to arrive at my date's home, but I'm guessing around 5 PM. I made the decision to drive my mother's Pontiac Catalina to the prom instead of my
Markmobile because, although the Markmobile had a superior Pioneer tape deck, Mom's Pontiac had air conditioning. So, in great comfort but accompanied only by an AM radio, I arrived to Evelyn's house at the appointed time. I gave her a wrist corsage and the earrings I had purchased earlier. Memory is fuzzy here, but I believe Evelyn had recently pierced her ears for a second time and putting the new earrings into the new holes in her lobe brought about a bit of blood. Admittedly not the start to the evening that I had envisioned. Nevertheless, Evelyn got cleaned up, pinned on my boutonniere, then her older sister took the requisite photos of the happy couple before we headed out. I'd share those pictures with you but I never had my own copies and I'm doubtful prints still exist.
Our first stop: a classmate's house for a pre-prom champagne party. The drinking age in Texas at the time was 19, which meant I had classmates with slightly older siblings who could legally purchase alcohol. I wasn't much of a drinker in high school because I was terrified of parental retribution plus I weighed maybe 130 lbs, so when it came to alcohol, I was a true lightweight. But my parents were out of town, so I probably had two or three glasses that evening and lemmetellya those glasses had quite the warming effect on me. Once we were glassy-eyed, we decided to have our picture taken.
I shouldn't have been driving at all, much less my mother's car, but I managed to get us to the hall where the dance would later be held in order to have our prom photo taken before dinner:
 |
I figured if I was using pseudonyms, I'd better pixelate, too.
But check out those gloves! |
We beat the rush, snapped that picture, then it was on to the local country club for dinner. Being in a small town, dinner for prom was always a difficult decision: should we drive 60 miles into Houston for fine dining, or do we wear our formal attire to eat alongside people wearing cowboy hats and boots at the local steak house where branding irons and firearms pass for wall decoration and the salad bar is shaped like a chuck wagon? (What can I say - many Texas stereotypes are true for good reason.) This year, however, thirteen of my classmates hosted a dinner at the country club and each of them could invite one couple. To whichever parent concocted that brilliant idea, many thanks. My very good friend Sam was one of the hosts, so Evelyn and I made the cut and any dinner dilemma we might have had was solved. Bonus: I didn't have to pay a cent.
I drove out to the club and when I rose up out of the driver's seat, I got light-headed and fell back into the car - I think I mentioned I was a lightweight. Let's get something in that stomach and quick. So we headed to the ball room where numerous tables were set up for the 50 or so diners. After working the room meeting and greeting, Evelyn selected our seats at an empty table. I was expecting my friend Sam and his date Melinda to come sit by us, but nah. None other than Kirk and his out of town date chose to sit
directly across from Evelyn and myself. Kirk acted like everything was completely normal and I'm sure I looked at the napkin in my lap quite a bit for the next hour. I don't remember what was served at the dinner other than a heaping helping of awkward. At some point during that long hour, I made eye contact with Kirk's date and we silently acknowledged that we were both being used to trigger feelings of jealousy between Evelyn and Kirk. Get me outta here.
(If this were an '80s movie, this is where we'd have the scene of me and my date ripping off our clothes and frolicking on the 18th green of the country club's golf course as the sprinklers come on, but that didn't happen for four reasons: 1) surprisingly, the thought never entered my mind to try such, 2) the sun hadn't yet set completely, 3) it's a 9 hole golf course - no 18th green, and 4) I probably would have gotten my face slapped. And rightly so.).
Finally, to the dance.
 |
| Prom ticket. Not a lot of info on that thing, huh? |
From the country club back to the Knights of Columbus Hall. Check in and hit the floor. If there was music playing, I was on that parquet dance floor. Prom means different things to different people (namely sex and alcohol), but to me it meant a chance to
dance. I loved to dance and I didn't get many opportunities so I took full advantage of this one. In my mind, I was a fantastic dancer but who the hell knows. The only songs I specifically remember the cover band playing were "
Footloose" and, oddly, Toto's "
We Made It." Evelyn was nominated for prom queen which added a little excitement to our evening. She didn't win, and I'll be dadgummed if I can't remember who did and my yearbook is of no help. The dance was over at midnight - we left about 11:30 so I can't tell you if "
Stairway to Heaven" was the last tune, fortunately. And if you were looking for stories of me or my friends spiking the punch bowl, sorry to disappoint - nothing but dancing from this guy.
After leaving the dance, we had to change clothes before heading to the afterparties. First, we went to Evelyn's place where she changed into some 501s and a loose, backless, white top. Then we swung by my house where I changed into Lord knows what, probably some jeans and an
Ocean Pacific tee. While I was changing, Evelyn laid face down on the floor in living room, ostensibly to rest up before more partying. Heck, I made the poor girl dance for 3 straight hours, so I can't blame her for being tired.
Allow me to set the stage: in an otherwise empty house, my prom date is laying down on the floor with a backless shirt, proudly showing me that she wasn't wearing a bra. We had been in close proximity for the past 7+ hours. Weeks had led up to this very moment. I was feeling pretty good about the evening (other than the initial bloodshed) and was at peak smoothness. It was at this point I knew I had to ask a question that would completely change the trajectory of the night: "So, you ready to go?"
Actually, I think I laid down beside her for a few minutes, but was too naïve (or terrified) to even think about making a pass. Evelyn had shown absolutely no interest in a physical relationship with me in the weeks leading up to the prom; I had no reason to think anything had changed suddenly, so I carried on. We piled into the car and headed a few blocks down Avenue K.
The first afterparty was at one of those houses "where everybody knows your name," so a post-prom party was a given.
 |
| Even this simple screen capture from Google Maps brings back plenty of good memories. |
The people that would normally hang out at the above house are people I still consider friends. I was usually at that place at least once a week if not more. Good family, good people, good friends.
But we had to give equal time to Evelyn's close friends, so after awhile we left the first party to head down some farm roads on the outskirts of town to a classmate's estate, where the party was in the pool house, next to the tennis court. In other words, I never would have rated an invitation to this afterparty if I hadn't been with Evelyn. I'd love to tell tales of skinny-dipping or fully-clothed couples being pushed into the pool, but if that happened, I didn't see it.
To be honest, I don't remember much about either afterparty. I have always been an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kinda guy and this was after 1 AM, so I was mentally checked out. Most likely, I planted myself on a couch while smiling and nodding, not unlike my behavior at many social events today. I don't remember drinking anything but surely alcohol was present at both parties.
I have no idea what time it was when I finally delivered Evelyn back to her home. I walked her to the door, we shared a goodnight kiss, and she went inside. Senior prom was over. What a wonderful 12 hours. I was asleep within 5 minutes of hitting my front door.
But wait, there's more...
I don't remember attending church later that morning, but that very Sunday night, I starred as Joseph in a local production of the musical,
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Now that I'm 52, I can only marvel at the stamina and resilience I had at 17. Whew. If I stayed up until 3 or 4 AM on a Sunday morning these days, I'd be worthless for the remainder of the weekend. Back then: no problem - what else you got for me? And then it was back to school on Monday; only four weeks until
graduation.
At our ten year high school reunion, a good friend (you may know this guy from
this story) said this about our senior prom; "That was a weird prom. Nobody went with who they were supposed to." While that last part may be true, I never thought of our senior prom as weird. But I guess all proms are weird in their own way because it's high school and kids are trying their hardest to act like they think adults should act. Some of us outgrow that.
As you could probably predict, Evelyn and I didn't see each other as often after prom and even though we caught a couple of movies together that summer and made at least one more trip to Long John Silver's and the park, I slowly accepted the fact that nothing was ever going to happen between us. I chased several girls that summer and ended up dating a
Burger King co-worker. (It was a whopper of a relationship.
Hi-yoooo!) Evelyn and I attended different universities that fall and I didn't see her again until her first wedding, which I believe was in 1990. These days, we keep up with each other through social media, but that's about it. I think there's a 35 year class reunion this year - I should probably check on that.
As you can tell from the above scans, I'm sort of a pack rat and, believe it or not, I still have the multicolored coat costume that appears in the photo above. Spoiler alert: it no longer fits me. But I have no idea what happened to my purple gloves.
Let's see what was playing on the radio that historic weekend, courtesy of the April 27, 1984 edition of
Radio & Records:
And since it was around that time that my friends and I stopped asking, "Have you heard that song?" and started asking, "Have you seen that video?" here's what MTV was playing around prom time:
To be honest, my family didn't have cable, so I got my video fix either at friends' houses or by videotaping Friday Night Videos on our Panasonic top-load VHS machine.
