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Observations & reflections from the fool on the hill (Rich La Monica, class of 69)
I was not a grammar school attendee like the rest of you. While I was NJ born, I spent my grade school years in the South and came to Nutley in 7th grade. After spending my educational life in parochial school, coming to a public school environment was like being reborn. It was unbelievable that I was changing classes every hour and the kids were northerners, quite different from the kids in South Carolina during the fifties, mostly little red necks that didn’t care much for northern I-talians.
As I think back, like so many sound bites we have come to live with today, the memories are short snap-shots. Why I remember some and not others is unknown, but I don’t care, they are memories of a time long past, never to return, but sweet as ice cream, more like dreams than reality.
Franklin school memories: my first attempt at a date, Elizabeth; my first heartthrob Sally; hanging out in the stairwell waiting for school to start with Frank; nutty buddies like John, Carmen, Dennis, Paul; wearing orange on St Patrick Day and not knowing why; JFK gone and Mrs. Robinson crying, school’s out early; the Beatles music at the dance, girls on one side, boys on the other; I insulted my cousin, but I don’t know how; wearing leather jackets, recess and heading for Raiders; cool looking eastern kids, Beatle boots and Eddie Borgia, Angie hanging alone on the stoop, Cheryl and Georejean, walks home after school; Mustang introduced, Dennis says he has to have one; recreation football, Tommy doesn’t like me, picks a fight; roller-skating lots of fun, more trouble another fight, police station here I come, I was just minding my own business, mother pissed; stole some gum, got caught, naturally, mother pissed again
High school: A whole new set of rules; what’s a senior court yard; freshman football, puking in August; cheerleaders, WOW Sally, Kathy, Dee, more leather jackets; The Older Guys, more raiders, You Keep Me Hanging On; playing cards, eating potato sandwiches with tons of ketchup; sock dances; The Trestle and Vanilla Fudge, battle of the bands, we won; Vigi and driving backwards; a cherry bomb in the toilet; Connie who from Belleville, another cheerleader; thanks Joan seems it was meant to be; falling off a bridge; Bob’s school walkout; trying to speak Spanish with my jaws wired shut; I’m dubbed a blue eye soul brother, miss you Earl; Colt 45 in my Mustang; other good times in my Mustang, life is sweet; who threw the egg, only Ralph knows; Nichols Park, stay away; Kingsland Park, what’s in Patty’s brassier; Broffman encourages the 2%; Harrison Street; class trips, no mythology for me, Mr. Deitch, a horse’s ass; Mr. Sullivan, a little strange; Doug playing hoops behind the school with Eugene; Bob is MVP, why not me; graduation, anticlimactic, life as we know it is over
Now I know there are many more, but it’s late and I have to get up early for work. Life has turned into constant reflection of the past. I have exceeded my expectations of myself and am grateful for how life has treated me overall. Connie is a great wife, a wonderful mother and sometimes a real nag. Anyway, if it weren’t for her I never would have tried to succeed in life.
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