1977

 The year is 1977...We are traveling back in time to that forlorn, goofy, gritty, disenchanting, disorienting, stable, cuddly, much-maligned decade before the most recent wave of progress had swept across the land, decade of garish neon color and tupperware, decade of energy crises and foreign policy debacles, political scandals and failed assassinations, decade of ethnic pride and racial tension, fading hippie idealism and working class re-alignment, decade of divorce and singles-dating scenes, UFO's, bigfoot sightings, Bermuda Triangle, primal scream therapy,  fondue pots, blue jeans, rock concerts and Lawrence Welk show, decade of urban decay, hard hat riots and west-coast hedonism, youth culture, long hair, food fads, omnipresent television, consciousness raising, protest marches....As part of our deep dive and time travel, we are aware, for starters, of the glaring technological backwardness of this former era - a decade lacking in computer laptops, cell phones, copier machines, DNA evidence, criminal databases and surveillance cameras, an epoch fraught with gas guzzlers, billboard signs, freeways, suburban housing tracks, air pollution, industrial waste... a decade of sideburns, aftershave, mini-skirts, large-collared shirts and (as sentinels from the current enlightenment will not allow to go unremarked upon...) an era suffused with strong opinions, gruff assessments and lingering prejudices. . And little omens everywhere heralding the end of a prosperity so little appreciated while it lasted, Simmering frustration, dashed hopes, re-adjusted expectations, a sordid splash of cold-water reality,  all of that... But amid such turbulence - this long gestational holding pattern for whatever of substance had been decided, declared or advanced in the prior decades of the 1960s - here (at least) in the golden state - a soothing feeling of optimism still persists ...We have a new president, don't we,  a young governor, warm weather, enough water, wide-open roads leading to beach, mountain and desert - a chance to begin again... three networks to report the news... a series of loopy trends sweeping the nation...new therapies, encounter groups, pet rocks, disco music... We were young then, still coming of age, distracted by sights and sounds,  aware of being at the forefront of something new. At our little oasis of a high school there in California during the years before the drought, well-off, middle-class kids  saunter about campus with the casual confidence and effortless-good looks we associate with sun and leisure. This is a large high school with a sprawling campus, the lockers are outdoors and the guidance office and cafeteria are detached from the main buildings and from afar it is obviously a sea of prosperity and privilege. Everyone does well there. Happy, energetic, youthful faces overshadow the silently suffering dregs.  The swim team is here and the tennis team, the volleyball team, the key club - all hallmarks of west coast affluence...Oh look - there is Ridgefield - he became a doctor... Petra - who earned her degree in oceanic micro-biology... Courtney - upper crust...she owns a horse stable now and multiple homes...Ben, future engineer - cursed with poor health - had a heart attack at 37...Dell - male model, surf and golf pro ....Amid all of this success - there are kids who fly below the radar - those relegated to the geek-filled marching band or the smoking section or the unofficial chess club...The rough kids are a society unto themselves, blissfully obvious to the wealthy kids of Canyon Crest to whom has been given the keys to the kingdom and the virtual ownership of the school.  A fair share of not-so-subtle razzing and hazing goes on; sarcasm is king among the boys...Loser, wimp, wuss, weak, nerd, geek, grind - what some might deem as "harassment" or "bullying" in today's world names and words thrown around as caustic "jokes" and "jibes" - ethnic slurs, put-downs, mild sneering, condescension,  but no one officially feeling worse for wear and no one really having the vocabulary or the wherewithal to object...It's all a matter of sink or swim, toughen-up, learn to run with the pack - or be damned...And most kids have learned these lessons long ago...The kids who attended Alcott and Gage and grew up on the advantageous side of town... But these are petty objections, trifles, really,  in the grand scheme of things. On a typical day, the banter is sunny and positive - playful, teasing, led by the pretty girls commenting on whose new red car has a dent or didn't I see you at Farrell's with Paige and Carol...Are you doing cotillion this year? Oh I wish my hair could feather like yours...Did you hear about Jack Woodhead's knee surgery? Who's going to play if he can't?? Roger Bloom is a god - don't ya think?.... And looking back on this sylvan scene from decades in the future, we (who travel back) know already in advance how each one's destiny will play out and who will go on to leave a mark, and who will crash and burn... And at this stage in time (or so it seems) - the winners have already won the race from the get-go...the fix is in... the lottery money pre-distributed, that's how it might feel for those who find themselves floundering and drowning and losing the contest - the rules of which have not been fully explained...These are the ones who feel marked by their strange oddball status...To be normal - and what is that like? How does one achieve that - even in ordinary conversation??? But as time-travelers - with the help of engrained memories - we find ourselves hovering literally like birds above the campus on a given Tuesday.. One  notices the various social tiers in their ensconced venues below- The first tier of swimmers and volleyball jocks had their space opposite the nonchalant cannabis-imbibing tennis players and the college-bound grinds were gathered on the steps of the library...The cigarette-smoking rough crowds cordoned off a brick wall across from driver's ed - the band geeks near the band room, the theater kids near the theater, and various rejects banished toward the athletic fields and the outdoor basketball courts or the hillside leading down to the social studies wing... And amid this subsection of rejects  and ne'er-do-wells, a smaller group of outliers, observers, onlookers haunted in real time by this predictable hierarchy of insiders and outsiders....I refer to a few lowly underclassmen absolutely mesmerized by the beautiful people across the way...Although we don't perhaps realize it, society is changing by leaps and bounds; the ground is moving underneath our feet - One can sense the disruptions without fully grasping what the whole upshot will be -  the changing discussion about women and work, about hair length and fashion, about youth culture, and casual drug use and dating and sexual mores, the increased divorce rate, the concern about the environment, racial tension, group identities... Nevertheless - the insulation of this town is itself like a drug - and we feel that we are watching a movie from afar and that nothing much will touch us - despite our being implicated in these developments... And so the lingering question persists (among us time-travelers) as to how such happiness, stability and security could give rise in a few short years to sudden frustration, derailments, emotional upheavals, despondency, stalled careers, failed relationships...For you see - we are a select group who travels back...And like detectives, there is some mystery in need of answering as to how our lives went south, became bumpy....We were not programmed for failure as such....It was not abandonment, neglect, abuse per se that .... But statistically, there are always those who fall off the turnip truck because of some hidden flaw - some defect in the mental wiring...And back then there was no vocabulary for this...We can see that many who are undervalued or overlooked  during this time will find their niche - their source of identity...Yes - what is so interesting about this ostensibly relaxed of an intense competition taking place - a sometimes brutal struggle for some kind of elusive validation or approval...One of the stragglers, Morris, is in the midst of complaining...They're ramping up the discipline around here - It's ridiculous...Do they think a gang fight is going to break out in English class? I got stopped the other day by a coach with a walkie-talkie...What? I was just loitering....Is anyone paying attention to me? Leonard observed a propos of nothing - Do you think Eileen and Karl belong with that crowd? What do you mean? They went to Alcott didn't they? They're on the swim team? Eileen lives on the same street as P... How do you know this stuff?  I am the official biographer of this school's ruling elite...Yeah - but don't you ever wonder if - like - why couldn't one of us be part of them - just as well as either of those two? Oh - no, no , no, that would never work for us...I'd be sweating bullets just standing next to C and J - and being stared down by their boyfriends...But why them and not us?