Name: Susie
My Night of Crime
This post is probably rated R, for language and for allusions to erotic art (NOT).
The item that attracted the most attention from my last "10 Things About Me" post, was the fact that I almost didn't get my high school diploma, on account of my criminal behavior. So I thought I'd tell the story . . .
It was nearing the end of senior year, at Central High (I'm not kidding), and there was a party. You must remember, my senior year is a lot more likely to show up on the History Channel than most of your senior years, so it's a bit hard for me to remember details, but I will try. It was at someone's parents' cabin in the woods, as I recall. And it was my first and probably last "wet T-shirt" contest. I remember claiming, with some conviction, that I was the winner. This was based on the very reasonable criteria that my T-shirt was the wettest. I remember something like hide-and-seek-and-sneakuponpeople-and-throwapotofwateronthem! That was fun, I don’t care who you are.
A couple of interesting things about this party. There were maybe 20 people there; I later learned that the group of us under police investigation was called the "Central 17" (it's a wonder folk songs haven't been written). There was, to my recollection, no alcohol or drugs at this party. And almost to a one, we were the good kids. The kids who had never given parents or teachers a moment's trouble. We were about to try to make up for lost time.
One of the boys, Jon, with the bright red hair, freckles and braces, was the mastermind. Even as I write that, I know I should have seen trouble coming. Jon obtained what he called "water-based paint," with which we were to go around the county painting insults and the like on the schools of Central's archrivals. Did I mention that we mostly were athlete, cheerleader, pep club, Student Council types? Yea. Did I mention that I drove my brother's van throughout much of high school? Yea. The gold one with the tinted windows, the padded floor and shag carpeting in the back, that would soon become known as the getaway car with the incriminating paint on the shag carpeting on the padded floor in the back.
Jon told us that "water-based" meant that the paint would be removed from any surface with a little soap and water. So that in the unlikely event we were to get caught, the worst that could happen was that we'd have to hose down the buildings we painted on.
After the wet and wild party, we loaded into our various vehicles and set out to the school near Horse Creek. They had recently built a huge, tremendously expensive enclosed pool. That enclosure looked to us like a blank canvas, baby. But there were people, adult-type people, hanging around. That was a stroke of luck for us. Had we ruined that new pool, we would have been up worse than Horse Creek. We proceeded to our next target, Beaver Creek. I'm not kidding. Our athletic rivals were the fighting Beavers of Beaver Creek High School. Could you BLAME us for wanting to vandalize their buck-toothed, wapping-tailed butts? (No offense, Bucky.)
We get there, and we divide up paint, brushes, etc., and set about painting things and stuff on the brick exterior of the school. What did we paint? Well, we painted words. Big words. No, not "impressive vocabulary" type big words, I mean big as in large size from top to bottom and side to side. No, the words themselves often consisted of only four letters. Bad words. That's what good Hillbillian kids paint on the walls the night they finally go ape-shit wild.
When we finished, we ran like wild, crazy savages through the field, laughing and yelling. I remember my best buddy running along side me, and we caught each other's eye just after we both noticed another classmate, Johnny, who wanted to be a mercenary when he grew up, thrashing wildly through the weeds with a machete as he whooped war whoops. In my mind, the look that my friend and I exchanged said these things: 1) Can you believe how exciting this is? 2 )Can you believe how stupid this is? And 3) Johnny is even crazier than we suspected. (If you went to Central with me, and you're reading this, did Johnny N. become a paid assassin?)
After we finished the painting, some kids went home. Some of us went back to the cabin first, to enjoy being scared to death together. I think all of us were smart enough to know how incredibly stupid we were. Adrenalin and adolescent group-think are a powerful combination.
The next morning, I surveyed my van. Van-Go, it was called. If anyone went looking for evidence, I was so busted. There was paint everywhere. I got some soapy water and went to work. OH. SHIT. That paint wasn't going anywhere. I went to the home of one of my good friends (hey, KT!) who had not been in on the, um, project. She was, and is, a woman of good sense. But still cool; very cool. I was too embarrassed, in the cold light of a May day, to confess to her. But I did tell her something like, "I heard some kids painted stuff all over Beaver Creek High School last night" . . . and I went on to describe some of the things that I had "heard" were painted there, including a crude euphemism for the female genitalia. Here, the conversation took a turn for the weird:
K: What color did they use?
S: I think white . . .
K: How big was it?
S: Oh, 'bout 2, maybe 3 feet high.
KT ponders this, then . . .
K: What was the angle . . .
S: What?
K: I mean, did they show the legs, or . . .
S: What are you talking about?
K: The %u&&y.
S: NO! Not an actual %u&&y!!!! Just the WORD, %u&&y!
K: Oh. I thought you meant they drew one.
I don't even know if this conversation was funny to me then, but it certainly is, now. The truth is, for better or worse, neither the males nor the females in that troupe had enough up close and personal knowledge of anyone's %u&&y to render it three feet tall on brick!
The days that followed were tense. Seventeen teenagers cannot keep a secret. Especially when one of them is driving around in a paint-splattered van. And I just remembered, we had even gone to the trouble of painting something on the road in front of our own school, to throw The Man off our trail. That graffiti was a bit milder; as I recall, it said "[Assistant Prinicipal] is a fine feller; but [Principal] is a fart-smeller!" What can I say, we were new to being criminals.
The Sheriff and deputies made several visits to the school. I think it was the new girl in the group who cracked first, but I don't know for sure. I know at some point we were all hauled in, individually, then in small groups, and shown photographs of the carnage. A giant brick %u&&y in a photograph proffered by an officer of the law in the daytime looks SO MUCH more sinister than it does in person in the nighttime. Over a period of several days, we were all busted.
The principal said that we could not attend the graduation ceremony. A number of the best students and athletes in our class were among this "branded" group. Some teachers and some students were openly hostile toward us. We had "shamed" the school. I felt then pretty much the same way I feel now: I could have made a list of students AND teachers who had, indeed, shamed the school; and none of us %u&&y-painters would have been on it. I felt that there was tremendous over-reaction. Many threats were made, to our freedom, our finances, our scholarships, our acceptances to the colleges we were preparing to attend. In the end, no formal charges were filed, and at the very last minute, after we'd already arranged a separate diploma-dispensing at a local church, by a forgiving minister, they said we could graduate. Not everyone was happy. I was relieved. Our punishment was that we had to pay restitution. We had to pay to have Beaver Creek sandblasted, repaired, etc. This was, of course, fair. It came to a few hundred dollars for each of us. For some kids present, or rather, for their parents, that was pocket change. For some, it was a fortune. Mine was paid by me, not my parents, and it was, indeed, a fortune.
Oh, and we had to go to Beaver Creek and make a sincere, public apology. To the entire student body, faculty and staff. At an assembly. On the stage. We decided to have one spokesperson to deliver our heartfelt apology, while the rest of us sat in a row behind her and looked appropriately remorseful. Now, on this memory, I have not compared notes with anyone, but here is what I recall. The spokesperson was Tammy, A-student, future surgeon, cheerleader, always dressed-to-kill Tammy. And she wore an extremely low-cut dress, displaying cleavage that none of us, to my knowledge, had ever seen before. This was in the day before Miracles and Wonders (I'm talking bras here), and I don't know how she came up with that (literally), but I was most impressed. There was cleavage; there was red lipstick; and maybe I have embellished this moment in memory, but I swear I think she wore a big ol' hat, too. Now, the accessory that I am certain I recall accurately, and the one that I thought completed the "F-you" tone of the ensemble, was the pair of hickies on her neck. Many people had those things, back in the day; but you covered them up, for heaven's sake, you wore a turtleneck, or some makeup or something. That is, unless you were Tammy, spokesperson for the Central 17, making a formal apology to the Beaver Creek Beavers. THAT was some STYLE.
The Beavers did not appreciate our efforts. I believe we were booed. Booed by the Beavers, as we sat on their stage. Later that day, as I sold char-broiled burgers in Hardee's, two Beaver Creek athletes appeared in my line. I either found this funny, or I was nervous about it, because by the time they got to me I was giggling. Then they started laughing, too. One of them said, "You’re not a bit sorry." I told them it was nothing personal, that we meant them no harm, it was a joke that ended up much worse and more expensive than we'd intended. They said it was funny, and they would have done the same thing to our school if they'd thought of it. Free fries for you, Beavers!
The 25th class reunion was a couple of years ago, and although I did not attend, I understand that this incident was a topic of lively discussion. I was told that some were very happy to have been in on it; some thought it among the worst experiences of their lives. For me, it was certainly memorable. It was not among the worst experiences of my life.
posted by Susie | 11:24 PM
51 heads are better than one . . .
All without the aid of alcohol? Brava, Vandalette.
Nobody could ever call you a %u&&y.
I don't think there was alcohol, unless I was too drunk to remember it. I like being a Vandalette. Like Martha and the Vandalettes. No sir, I mean ma'am, don't call me a %u&&y.
I am amazed that Bucky read this whole thing and her head did not blow up. Even once. And she was capable of not only commenting, but leaving a pretty clean comment at that.
I have never vandalized anything in my life. Do you know what this means Susie??
Your naughtier then ME. Deal with that.
And my highschool was the Craig Cougers. So we were a pussy cat school too. Not pussy rat like them damn beavers.
Oh my goodness. I'm just shocked. You wrote the &u&&y word! In big letters! Holy Moly!
A bunch of 'good kids' did this? I did some very not good things in HS, but I dont remember anything like this. Unless you count the time I tried to drive between two cars that were too close together for me to drive through, and I did it anyway. But, my parents as they are, I had no consequences. I should have though.
You won the wet t-shirt contest! WooHoo!
Jess, you don't know my head didn't blow up. For all you know, there are pieces of my alleged brain all over my couch.
Susie - So, whatta you have against Beavers, anyway?
And is it any coincidence that my high school mascot was the BUCaneer?
THERE'S the Susie I adore! You and I would have been friends in high school ...
I loved this story ...
Jess, I have never claimed NOT to be naughtier than you ;) I guess I went to a pussycat school, too: The Panthers! They started out as the Black Panthers, but someone else took that name, and then it didn't seem quite right for a little southern, lily-white, mountain school to be Black Panthers.
lawbrat, that might be the nicest thing we wrote! We had just been too good for too long, so when we went bad, we went BIG!
bucky, you should have been the Beavers. Or the Chaps. But Buccaneers are good, too. Pirates, right?
nilbo, thank you, love. You were a good kid, too; you probably went ape-shit once or twice...you gonna tell us about it?
Susie, YOU RASCAL!
I believe I've asked you this before, but will you marry me? :)
I couldn't read the whole thing; I just want to talk. I remember shagging Jennifer. A...one of the good girls-academically the top girl in our class. Something went haywire with her towards the end of her seniour year.
Good girls had a stange attraction to me.
I remember rolling a car over with several dropouts and High School mates and starting the f'ing thing on fire halloween of say '77.
I remember kicking the door in to a couple of restaurants to get their booze at 3am. After that we'd break into the Hood ice cream storage house and cure our munchies after pool hopping in peoples back yards early am.
I remember shotguns, dope and chicks. I remember getting stopped with 15 guys in the back of my pickup wasted to all get out on my way to a black and blue concert and the policeman thought otherwise of arresting me-the driver even though I wasted because I think he saw a huge problem on his hands if he did. We ended up recruiting about a 100 people and we took the fence down and got into the concert free. Those idiot securuty guys, like 20 of 'em on the other side of this 20' rugged heavy duty chain link fence trying to hold it up as we swayed it back and forth and back and forth until it toppled over and we ran like rats into the crowd.
I remember my principal and guidance counselor telling me that the only reason they were going to let me take my English final, after I had skipped it, and the remake, and the next scheduled remake because "they just want me gone."
I was an A to A+ student as a non-trad in college though. There is so much more but I don't know the statute of limitations so I leave in silence.
We would have been friends in High School...right?
CK, YES!
hippo, I couldn't read the whole comment ;) but we can talk. In all honesty, I probably would have liked you, but been scared to death of you, in high school. But now you read C.S. Lewis and quote Willie Nelson on your blog, so now, we're good.
Susie, you are AWESOME. And I feel like a complete lame-butt. My senior year the student body put out white crosses in memory of people who had committed suicide - including Kurt Cobain. Only they spelled it Curt Cobain. And one night after getting back late from a tennis match, I took a marker and changed it to Kurt. Yeah, that's the only "graffiti" ever - and it was just an edit!
Sheesh, I was SUCH an English teacher even back then.
Kalki, that would've been a good post. I guess it still can be...
I wanted to be Tammy. I had the hickies, but no hat.
%u&&y?
Fugly or muffy?
*APPLAUSE*
Now that's what I call a comeback story. I can't tell you how glad I am to see that you are able to resume your writing here. I think we all will have to perform inordinate amounts of gratitude to the goddess of assless chaps, that is B4E. Well done Bucky!
I never did anything remotely *bad*. Ever.
...inordinate amounts of gratitude, Greenie?
Do you have any idea what you could be gettin' your little 'Mo self into with that statement?
*tries to use power for good and not evil...so hard, so very hard..must not harass Greenie...must...not...*
I love this story! Yeah, I woulda totally been in on this gig.
Love this post..but then, I love them all.
Wish I'd been there with you raising hell!
I was one of the good kids too in school. Anything I did that wasn't good just didn't get known around school. :-)
Yes, we were the Buccaneers. The pirates head was our mascot. Pretty funny when you consider the school was on Lake Michigan. Lots of pirates there I'll bet.
We knew a lot of ass pirates, though, didn't we, Squirl?
Well, you have to live life in order to understand it, right Susie?
Any school claiming to be The Fighting Beavers deserved some graffiti!
Thank you for this image in my head of a bunch of beavers tussling around. Make it stop!
I did that too. There were only four of us. We were threatened with neck chop, but nobody ratted us out. Good thing, for we all became model citizens (says me).
The story and the comments have all cracked me up . . . We have a little town in Colorado just north~east of where we live. The town is Eaton, and their mascot is a beaver, and yes they go by The Eaton Beavers. Now I think I would have choosen a different mascot for a town and high school called Eaton, but they didn't ask me.
Thanks for letting us in on your life of crime ~ Susie.
kalki the graffiti editor, I LOVE THAT! Blog it, baby :)
crayoneater, wouldn't that be cool if every girl with a hickey just wore a big fancy hat, instead of trying to do the camouflage thing? I am so intrigued by that idea ... Oh, and I think a lot of people wanted to be Tammy.
greenie, you are so sweet and dear, and such a BIG FAT LIAR!
bucky, do with him what you will.
weetzie, yep, I'll bet you would have :)
dp, I'll come and see what's up a little later. Will, huh? You got anything good? How you feelin'?
thanks, MB! We have our own little version of good kids gone bad right here in this neighborhood, don't you think?
squirl, heeheeee, I've heard of those pirates of Lake Michigan. Got any that look like Johnny Depp?
bucky, I ALMOST went there with the Buccaneers . . . you are SO bad for me, girl . . . and I blove you so much :)
laurenbove, as always, you are a wise woman. I think it was St. Ignatius who said, "the unexamined life is not worth living." Saints laurenbove and susie say, "the unlived life is not worth examining."
sierrabella, now THAT's what I'm talkin' about. Weren't they just asking for it?
hoss, you certainly are a model citizen; I am glad you weren't ratted out, and sent to the big house . . . you coulda turned out like me.
nina, GET OUTTA HERE! No way! Eaton Beavers. If that don't beat all . . .
Write your school initials on their front lawn and then, when you get caught, tell them they are lucky you just used Round Up and not ground steriliant.... not that I ever did that... but I'm just sayin'....
When Upstanding Youth go bad. I think I saw you on TV with your faces blurred.
I'm almost done laughing my ass off at Eaton Beavers. Yes, Bucky, we met plent of ass pirates from that school.
Ichabod's got a good one. He played sports for a school that was called the Fruitport Trojans.
That's a pretty good story. That reminds me of American Graffiti for some reason. You're too cool for school Miss Susie.
Today's blessing is for Bucky. Bucky dear, bless you for fixing Susie Sunshine's blog issues.
homestead, that is an excellent idea, that thing that you have never, ever done. And much less expensive to remedy, I would think.
kranki, ohmygosh, I can just picture it. Thankfully, this was way before COPS. Or cable TV. OHDEARGOD, I AM SO FREAKIN' OLD!
squirl, greenie was on that team, if I'm not mistaken ;)
nic, bless Bucky, indeed. And I think that's what the principal was trying to say when he didn't want us graduatin': we were TOO COOL for school.
susie the vandal,this post was great! lol. could picture every word. i got in BIG trouble in high school once for writing on the wall with, get this...chalk. i was written up and it was put on my permanent record. chalk. i'm still shaking my head. it took all of 5 seconds to clean it off. oh well, the stuff we do eh? who knew we'de be blogging about it years later!
Yes, there are the Eaton Beavers . . . John and I laugh everytime we hear about them on the news. Then I look at him and ask you don't suppose we are the only ones with dirty minds, do ya?
Awesome work! I'm proud of you. Because you had to get that naughtiness out of you at some point lest you would do little horrible things each day (ala Smudgebaby in Highschool) that would screw ANY chance to attend college. I was always stunned when I received a "D" as a grade. I understood the work...just was too busy going crazy-teenager-wild to complete it.
Anyway...I have a classic "Motherf--ker stole my lunch" tale to tell. I'll blog it soon enough.
The naughty high schoolian moments are what sustain us in our mundane adult years.
I have lots of senior prank memories, and we were weird enough to play "Rock Me Amadeus" every time we struck. And it was retro then. And we played the ten-minute version that included the timeline of Mozart's life, not the lame radio version. And we laughed our asses off.
So today, I may look like a mommy, but underneath it all, I'm a weirdo prankster.
This story is so funny. It reminds of some of my high school escapades.
Awwwww ... you should have went to the reunion! Then you guys could have all gotten together, vandalized wherever the reunion was being held before everyone got there! Man, that would have been classic! Of course, that time, you could have done something that would be easily reversible ... it would have been awesome.
I did so much retarded stuff in Jr. High and High school ... I don't know if I want to incriminate myself that much by writing about it, lol!
blogaholic, damn that PERMANENT RECORD! Actually, my friend KT is the official keeper of PERMANENT RECORDS, I have come to believe. I'll see if I can make some adjustments to yours :)
nina, you're certainly not the only ones in blogworld, I mean, there's SQUIRL. If the news people have to say that, they must crack up.
jen, I think you're right, it was a good move after all. I'll be on the lookout for your story :)
lucinda, if we haven't met yet, welcome. Now, see, you had much more STYLE than we did. A THEME SONG. Oh, I LIKE that. Excellent.
denise, welcome, glad you enjoyed :)
damon, oh, I like the way you think! I have suggested a reenactment for the next reunion, but so far no one has signed up.
kitty, SAY VANDALAY INDUSTRIES! I love it!
i always sort of had a bad feeling about you, like, 'be careful. i bet there's something slightly wrong with a person who dresses up as Gumby in sworn-testimony pose'.
Another great post Susie! You little minx you, wet T-shirt and all. Loved your description of the hickied up cohort of yours giving the speech, accompanied by cleavage, does'nt get any better than that. The makings of an after school special here, or Cops.
Thanks for sharing it so well.
*giggle* "You ought to be ashamed of yourself young lady. But we're not going to punish you. You have to live with yourself."
Am I close? 'Cause I'm betting you heard something very similar to that, not that I ever did anything that would warrant my parents saying words like that to ME, mind you.... *exits abruptly*
brando, you are very astute. It all goes back to this incident. I have been in sworn testimony pose ever since. Be careful, indeed . . .
dashababymama, that just tickles me: a combo After School Special and Cops. I'd SO watch that. And I SO could have been the star!
eclectic, probably something very similar from my mom. My paying for it out of my burger-pimping money was PAINFUL. And I was just telling a realworld friend today, I do not think my father ever knew. He knew what happened, because it was news all over the county. But somehow I don't think he ever knew I was in on it. I probably would not have lived to blog the tale if he had!
I did some crazy things in school, nothing quite like this - incidentally, I vaguely remember catching a 7th Heaven episode with something similar to this - I guess teen vandalism is somewhat common in many people's past. Mine was never vandalism, but, we were still sorta wacky. Thanks for the trip down memory lane. :)
I got taken home in the back of a police wagon on my high school graduation night. It wasn't the best experience, but it always makes for a good story! Thanks for sharing yours :)
Daring!!! Susie
echrai, my kid loves 7th Heaven! If I can track down that episode some day, that's how I can broach the subject of my checkered past (at least that check) with her! Thank you for the parenting help ;)
maja, see, that's one of the things that makes blogging great; even when something unpleasant happens, we can start thinking immediately, "at least I can blog it!" I hope you've told your story, that sounds like a colorful one!
jac, yes, weren't I, though? ;) (Now I'm such a big chicken!)
Wow, great writing, Susie. I loved the symbols you used for %u&&y. Perfectamundo.
Does anybody else hanker for a...Biscuit?
AWESOME.
that is the funniest story - we did a similiar thing senior year, but instead took spray paint to all of the road signs around town - we were never caught and some of our handiwork is still up for viewing!
You know, it sounds like more fun than the graduation ceremony would have been anyway :)
This is the KT mentioned in this blog post. I'm still laughing about this ancient episode in my high school past. I always regretted not being involved. How flattering to be described as having good sense and being cool at the same time. Some other things of interest: The Beaver Creek school was torn down, so hopefully all the Beavers can finally put this behind them (ha). I live about 150 feet above the famous fart-smeller road inscription. I think of it often when I drive that road. I think Susie and I should seriously think about a book/screenplay regarding this and other episodes from our hillbilly past. Has Susie posted anything about her foray into the world of beauty pageants? Just an idea for ya, doll!
When I was in 11th grade, two of my friends and I let all the air out of the vice-principal's tires with a pencil. We used to call him Jack the Ripper; he was in charge of discipline.
My friends got busted because someone recognized them, but they never turned me in. I got away with it. Whew, feels good to unbuden myself after all these years.
If anyone wants to turn me in now, you can call Mr. Gaskins in Tallahassee, Florida and rat me out, although it was 1976 and he probably doesn't remember it, if he's still alive.
I'm done with grad school anyway, so putting it on my permanent record is no big deal.
;)
But hey, doesn't it make you feel good that you beat Tammy in the wet tee shirt contest despite her impressive cleavage?
I hafta say, that is a great story, but especially good because you wrote it so well. It reminds me a bit of me on my "senior prank" in high school, except mine wasn't quite so damaging and I don't think anybody really got caught. We pitched tents on the soccer field and climbed up on the school roof and smoked cigars. I think we broke in and moved a whole bunch of furniture around too. It was a Christian school and there were no drugs or alchohol, just nervous fun. One of the junior's dad was a cop and showed up in the middle of the night, shined his spotlight on us, and yelled at us through a bullhorn to get out of our tents and haul ass up to his car. He lined us up and read us the riot act. Said some neighbors complained about noise and such. Then when we had just about pissed our pants he let on that we were being pranked by the juniors. Fun times.
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