Bill Simmons’ column on high school yearbooks made me laugh out loud from start to finish.
I have been kicking myself about my high school yearbook quote for years. Here’s what I actually chose:
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They’re quite aware of what they’re going through
— David BowieTranslation: I’m an enormous dork.
And it wasn’t just me; almost everyone screws up their high school yearbook quote. It’s like a rite of passage. My buddy Jim and I were on the phone this week sifting through our yearbook … it was like a 100-page car crash. Why in God’s name did everyone take it so seriously? Quote after agonized quote from The Police, Rush, Styx, Led Zep, Pink Floyd, Boston, Journey … you would have thought we were these anguished, miserable, disaffected kids. Please. We were going to prep school!
Maybe the only positive? Looking back, yearbooks are loaded with about as much unintentional comedy as you can pack in a hardcover book. The haircuts. The fashion styles. The quote choices. The dedications. You can’t even believe what’s happening as you’re reading along. For instance, my old friend Adam used a Bananarama quote in our yearbook. Bananarama! You think that doesn’t haunt him every day?
hahahaha “You can’t even believe what’s happening as you’re reading along.” But definitely read the whole thing. It’s hysterical.
I remember my yearbook quote, and it was appropriately wistful, as befitting a lovelorn 17 year old wise beyond her years. Uhm – NOT!! Anyway, it was Oscar Wilde:
“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
Ahhhh. That’s so deep. I was so DEEP!!
But at least I chose a classic author, a guy who’ll be around forever, as opposed to a quote from, say, a Loverboy song.
You wanna be in the show?
Come on baby, let’s GO.
— Loverboy
The suggested quotes Bill Simmons has compiled are just too funny for words – I had a blast reading through them all.
After my rapturous high school reunion this summer, I wrote a big post about flipping through my yearbook. I think we all did that following the reunion.
Here’s the post about our yearbook, and the unfortunate typos therein:
Last night, I sat at my desk, and looked through my high school yearbook. I looked at EVERY PAGE. I scrutinized EVERY SIGNATURE. I read all of our little blurbs, wondering what the hell some of the references were.
Pictures of the Homecoming dance … which I didn’t go to. But the dresses! The ruffly frilly dresses of the day. The guys in tuxes. Do high school boys even wear tuxes anymore? Really cute picture of Crissy J. when she was voted Homecoming Queen.
There are so many pictures of my friend Betsy scattered through the entire yearbook that she must have paid off the Yearbook editor or something. hahaha
In the yearbook is literally one of the funniest photos ever taken of me. That is from my moment of cheerleading glory … words can’t describe it … Whoever caught that moment on film should be given an award. My face in the photo looks absolutely maniacally insane.
Two HILARIOUS typos in the senior blurbs – typos that are now infamous in my group of friends:
— In Betsy’s case, under “Favorite Quote” she had written: “I want to go wild like a blister in the sun.” The Violent Femmes were very big in my school. Sadly, when the yearbook came out, the quote read: “I want to go wild like a BUSTER in the sun”. Doesn’t have quite the same ring.
— In Beth’s case: this takes a bit of set-up. We were in drama class together. One of the things that drove us crazy about our class was that after we would work on a scene, or do a monologue, or whatever – the teacher would invariably look around the room, and say, “Comments?” SHE ALWAYS did that. It drove us nuts. Like: YOURE. THE. TEACHER. What do YOU have to say? No. She always turned it over to the class, with that one word: “Comments?” Ohhh, it went up our asses!! So Beth, in her senior blurb, wrote under “Pet Peeve”: “Comments.” We thought to ourselves gleefully and maliciously, “Maybe our teacher will see that and realize how much it drove us crazy! hahahaha Revenge!!!!” Sadly, when the yearbook finally came out, Beth’s pet peeve had magically turned into “Cimments” – which makes no sense and completely ruined our chances for revenge. Now, though: the word “Cimments” has basically been added to our collective vocabulary. A group email will go around from one of us, explaining: “Okay, so I’m at a crossroads in my life – and I need some advice … here’s the situation …blah blah blah blah …” Story is told in detail. And then at the end comes the inevitable question to the group: “Cimments?”
I worked on the yearbook staff in high school (and I would love to hear the comments of anyone else that did). It’s funny how your yearbook becomes a totally different object 10, 20 years after high school. I remember writing copy for the spreads on clubs and stuff and all of us kind of complaining about the work because nobody’s going to read it anyway. They just want the pictures and the space for their friends to sign. Our advisor used to always tell us “trust me, in twenty years, they’ll read it.”
And you do. You read the articles. All the stupid poll-taking about who’s your favorite so-and-so really pays off when you look back ten years after and see the list of what everybody was wearing, listening to, watching and thinking about. It’s great.
Totally!! You need the text – it’s so important!
You DO realize that EVERY time I leave a cImment on your blog I am slightly tortured by that mon-chi-chi voice of D.F.M. saying, “Comments??” That little “comments:” thing typed above this box tortures me.
hahahaha So you have emotional flashbacks everyday to our time in the land of “cimments”.
Well, maybe not tortures me, but certainly mocks me. Just a little finger jab in my arm.
in my small high school, each senior got a whole page to do with (more or less) what they would.
I remember using a Voltaire quotation about “To a toad, what is beauty…” (because I honestly believed myself to be a “toad” when I was in high school)
I think I used another quotation that I don’t remember.
but the third quotation?
from the early-60s cartoon character (probably obscure enough in 1962, and virtually unknown in the late 80s) Clyde Crashcup.
at the time, I thought it had a certain “obscure” cachet. Now I just cringe to think I did it.
I also cringe at my pictures. I thought having my hair in a short, “homage to the 1920s ‘shingle’ cut” hairstyle was cute and also efficient, as I was a swimmer. Now I just cringe at how butch it made me look.
Marion High School Yearbook Staff: 80-83!
I was sports editor my senior year, and when I go back and read the copy, I just cringe. God, I was pretentious. It was HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL, Lisa, not the friggin’ Watergate scandal. “They called it a rebuilding year. . .” Ack.
We had Yearbook first period every day, so after the book went to the printers (in Feb.) the seniors just cruised. We didn’t even get to school until have the period was over. The underclassmen had to start working on next year’s yearbook, but we didn’t have anything to do. It was great.
But the best thing about Yearbook was being able to pick what pictures went in. For example, my junior year, every Boy’s track candid had my boyfriend in them. Coincidence? I think not. And since our yearbook goes to bed in February, all the spring things (prom, graduation, etc.) are in the NEXT year’s yearbook (which is why pretty much everyone has five books in their collection, your own four years plus the next year) so even though my then-boyfriend and I had broken up by then, my friend Karen put a picture of us at prom in the candid shots (a half-page one, too!) in her section just to piss off his new girlfriend. Heehee. Sweet revenge of the Yearbook Staff. Do NOT mess with us!
“It was HIGH SCHOOL
FOOTBALL, Lisa, not the friggin’ Watergate scandal.”
I am laughing out loud …
Yeah, we had the same thing where you kind of HAD to buy the next year’s yearbook – so that you could see yourself at all the formal dances, etc.
Except – ahem. I never went to any of them. Well, I went to one – the senior prom. But I still bought a yearbook every year. You just HAVE to!!
Okay, confession of high school bitchy evil:
There was this girl who was one of those chicks that was just *perfect*. Perfect hair, very pretty, dressed great, talented artist, good student, etc. The worst part is that she was nice, too. Really sweet to everybody. The kind of girl who made you sick and catty. One of the editors and I deliberately placed the picture of the drill team, which she was a member of, so that her face would be in the crack between the two page spread.
Like I said, bitch. Bitch. BITCH. But funny.
Anyhoo, our period for yearbook was the last of the day, so after the book went to print, we literally had an hour with nothing to do. I spent a lot of time looking through the old yearbooks from the fifties and sixties. It was great to get to see pictures of the Beach Boys when they were just dough-eyed teenagers.
I was such a loser my quote was cut. It had a drug reference in it (and I didn’t even do drugs) but I thought it was so cool. “Goodbye all ya punks, stay young and stay high, hand me my checkbook and I’ll crawl off to die.” I was assured by my buds on the yearbook they’d get it in but were unsuccessful. I am sure it would have changed the world or something like that
I don’t even have any of my high school year books, and I went to five different schools during high school (being a military brat is a wonderful thing).
I was a copy editor on our yearbook (hi Emily!). All the jokes and drama I labored to include in the stories now look so lame. I even did copy in alliteration (The pugnacious pantheon of pigskin pride pounded the proletariat . . . . sheesh!). We had a blast coming up with sarcastic, cynical captions, all of which were changed by the editor at the last minute. My copyeditor (and best friend) went through my yearbook and wrote in all the “real” captions – from memory – he was a genius that way.
We staffers also indulged in a couple of typographical and layout pranks: misspelling some guy’s name to drive him crazy, and putting certain people’s pictures next to certain other people’s pictures to create heartbreaking angst.
Our theme was (sit down) “Sounds of Silence” and we had a mime in full Marcel Marceau get-up come in to pose for various themed shots sprinkled throughout, such as “Intimidated Freshman at the Threshold of Adulthood” (pose: clutching books to her chest and looking fearfully to the side) and “Bragadoccio Junior who doesn’t realize that the grave responsibilities of being a Senior are just ahead” (pose: thumbs in armpits, beret jauntily askew). It seemed so brilliant when we hatched the ideas . . . what were we smoking?
The highlight for me was staging the faculty group pictures. I put the teacher I detested in front, on his knees on the hardwood stage, and then fussed with the camera and lighting for about ten minutes while he shifted around in obvious agony. I kept saying, “Mr. Monroe, I’m afraid you messed up that shot by moving – we’ll have to do it again.” What fun! What a bastard I was!
Actually, the best part was that us sticky geeky insipient gay/disturbed guys were thrown in with poised, happening, sweet-smelling Farrah-haired superpopular cheerleader girls, whom we hated/envied. Turned out the girls were bright and nice and silly and funny, and laughed at our jokes, and worked harder than we did. Lots of stereotypes were broken in that photo developer-scented room.
stevie – that is one of the funniest comments you’ve ever left on my blog.
A mime??? oh my God, I so want to see those photos.
Also:
“putting certain people’s pictures next to certain other people’s pictures to create heartbreaking angst.”
hahahahahahahaha
I love these “tales from the yearbook offices” – they’re great!
sound of silence …
hahahahahahaha
Stevie,
Yep. Yearbook staff was my “Breakfast Club” experience. My friends and I were the punks/fringe folks that thought we were just *so* much cooler than everybody else, who we had reduced to “types.” I was wrong about nearly every one.
Did anyone else here have evil initiations that involved new members being abducted from their homes in the early morning and forced to wear humiliating clothing for an entire school day? BEST. PART.
(BTW, this is the turning point where the rest of this thread will be exclusively devoted to talking about The Breakfast Club. It was bound to happen here)
I know – so embarrassing now. The photo staff went out and shot pictures of graffiti and burned out cars, then we mounted them on black backgrounds with appropriate lyrics – “Silence like a cancer grows.” Oh it was so arty and pretentious. We were in a friggin bedroom suburb like Speilberg’s ET tract!
hahahahahahaha I love it!!!
The bleak urban angst, etc. etc. etc.
Stevie – Ohmigod, a MIME?! HiLARious.
Alas, we had no photo lab. Our pictures, candid AND school portraits, were taken by one man. He was (and still is) the local photographer in town and he went to EVERYTHING and took the pictures. Proms, sporting events, concerts, EVERYTHING. We did have two student “photographers” that we borrowed from the newspaper, but we hardly used them for anything.
But Mr. Smith? He always came through. We would get stacks and stacks of 5×7 black and white pictures to go through and choose the ones we wanted. (We sold the rest at a sale at the end of the year. Except for the ones needed for blackmail, of course.)
Lisa – wow. What a job.
Hang out at every high school event that ever takes place and document it obsessively. Could be hilarious for about 2 seconds, and then only tragic and awful after that.
It was a job. He took all group photos (choir, clubs, band) and all candid shots. The sporting events weren’t so hard; he’d go to one game per sport and take maybe 25 pictures, then we’d pick four or five to put on the pages.
Also, he owned a Delmar franchise, so he took all of our school pictures — elementary through high school. I believe he took all twelve of mine. PLUS he had a photography studio.
Busy, busy.
Twas a monopoly. Well done!!
Katie Holmes is expecting, have you been notified by CNN?
WHAT????????
Yup. The anti-Christ has been conceived.
Just read it on E Online.
Holy moly. So he has trapped her but good. Funny how you normally think of a pregnancy like this as woman trapping the man – but not in this case. Now she’ll be “his” forever.
I KNEW I felt a shift in my Thetans.
The master is coming. . .BEWARE INFIDELS!
I apologize for what I am about to say.
The thought of the two of them having sex is so intensely disturbing that I might need to go take a nap.
Oh, WHY didn’t she heed my warning????
Sheila,
That’s what makes it so icky. I’ll bet the way sausage is made isn’t as disturbing.
Sorry to be even more disturbing but my immediate thought was that there was a turkey baster involved.
I would not put it past Chimpy Couch Boy.
I don’t think I will be able to digest food ever again.
My friend told me the news and I instantly proposed the turkey baster theory. And then there was a frank discussion between us about what Tom’s motivation was to fill the cup, if you will. Conclusion: Another guy did the deed while Tom looked at pictures of himself and recited the poem from Cocktail.
That’s what y’all thought too, right?
Chimpy Couch Boy
hahahah
damn him.. damn him to be non-Clear.
“The Turkey Baster Theory.” I love it.
curly – cocktail. ewwww. double entendre.
Then – there is the even more disturbing layer that Katie Holmes was (we can only take her word for it) a virgin.
So … Sorry. The whole thing is just ikky.
“I lost my virginity to a turkey baster wielded by a couch-jumping chimp.”
technically she is still a virgin in the Turkey Basting theory. “I think I just vomied in my mouth”
obviously it should read vomited – preview is your friend
I kinda like vomied. Sounds sweet.
I used to be a band called Zomit and the Vombies.
/bad joke
I’ve been blogging about my college yearbook that I recently ran across while cleaning my basement. It’s amazing what types of emotions yearbooks from many many years ago can bring back, isn’t it?
That’s exactly how I felt about my converse basketball hightops! Pure extacy!
I remember once in H.S. I was trying to keep up w/ one of my more athletic friends and we went and ran around the football field about 8000 times and the next day I was so sore, (and I’ve been sore a few times, but not like this), I begged my mom to not let me go to school. No dice. It was so bad, every time the bell rang, my eyes would begin to well up with tears trying to walk. because “…you know it hurt so bad”, “to see you again”. No one noticed or caught me though, but it was still the longest day
cullen – wow, you were in a lot of bands! So far today we have “Not Ken” and “Zomit and the Vombies”!!
about tom and katie:
I want to say something. And it is rather offensive. I do not mean to make light of other people’s sufferings, but here is what I wish, in my sick little heart: I hope Katie has a helluva case of postpartum depression. Let’s see how Mr. “No drugs” Asshole deals with reality.
(I don’t really mean this. I wouldn’t wish PPD on anyone. It’s just an evil wish that I have, because I’m pissed off at that asshole.)
somehow, I knew the comments would morph into a discussion of baby thetan. heehee.
And I’m pretty sure, that if she indeed does suffer from PPD she will end up locked up by the COS at one of their fine establishments for some more niacin treatments.
CIMMENTS???
funny stuff—
my high school year book quote was:
Tramps like us – baby – we born to run!
20 years later, I stand by it.