The Incomplete Autobiography of
GryEyes911

My dad now owned his own business, which was a mix of industrial burglar alarm installation and service and contracting with the local police departments as Radio System Magician Extraordinaire. Sometimes I'd go on service calls with him in the middle of the night to reset alarms. There was always a police radio scanner on and the midnight shift had the best stuff to monitor... it might be dead quiet for a long time, but when there was a transmission, it was normally worth the wait.

There wasn't any 9-1-1 back then, at this particular time. The city in which we lived was quite small, but very picturesque and is still touted as "One of the Last Home Towns in America." (It's still kinda stuck in the sixties, as a matter of fact. No kidding! Ask any long-time resident - especially those folks with whom I went to High School and who still happen to live there.) It's more commonly advertised as "Butterfly Town U.S.A."

You see, Monarch butterflies winter in this part of the Monterey Peninsula. They still swoop into the small stand of trees remaining where they've come for generations (people generations, not just the short lives of butterflies) and cover the branches and trunks of the trees there. They're protected, too; no molesting Monarch butterflies in Pacific Grove, CA!

I babysat for several local officers and their wives (in Monterey as well as Pacific Grove) to earn spending money. Having been very close to Chief Hollowell and his wife Jan while living in Oregon had already given me some insight into "real stories" of cops and their personal and professional lives. I now had glimpses into a reality which, while still pretty much tinged with The Knight In Shining White Armour perspective, brought me closer to the humanity of law enforcement.

Then again, I couldn't get into any trouble anywhere; everybody knew my dad. It tended to reinforce my geeky status, you know?

Drugs were very popular during this time. I didn't try any. I was amazed at the number of school-mates willing to pop pills without any inkling of their source or intended prescription use. Snorting anything up one's nose seemed really reckless, bizarre, and somewhat painful. LSD was far too scary a prospect; I already lived a great deal inside my head, anyway. I had no desire to muck up my thinking processes since I often felt I had enough strange thoughts as it was!

Possession of any amount of marijuana was a felony back then. Besides, you smoked it -- ick. (I didn't start smoking cigarettes until I was forty years old. That's several chapters into the future!)

High school was very interesting, since students could choose their own "electives." I loved the English language and thoroughly enjoyed Drama. History was fascinating, as was Sociology. Although Science was engrossing, Mathematics sucked. Geometry was more stimulating because I could see the shapes and manipulate them in my head. I took classes in woodshop, drafting, electronics and one semester in homemaking. Guess which one of these courses garnered my first "C," ever?

I delved into languages because it seemed I had a good ear for dialects: Spanish, German and Chinese were offered along with French. I didn't study the latter, since I thought it sounded abhorrent. The glottal stops in Deutsch were easy and Mandarin tonal shifts were a challenge. Spanish was... well, the first foreign language to which I was introduced in junior high and it seemed reasonable to continue with it, particularly as a native Californian.

One class I absolutely hated was Phys Ed; dressing and undressing each day in a group environment was sheer hell. You didn't use your brain, you competed with others based on skill, grace, talent or other physical attributes. It just so happened I hadn't gotten any less overweight. The only way anyone could get out of P.E. was to have a doctor's note or skip class. Truancy didn't appeal to me. Darn that President Kennedy!

The only after-school activity I joined was "Up With People." I was an alto, and not a very good one at that, but I could carry a tune when bolstered up by the surrounding chorus. If you haven't heard of UWP, let me explain something: it's a very, very positive and uplifting movement based in the Moral Majority and simply exudes a goody-two-shoes aura. I fit right in. However, I did lose my virginity after one of the practice sessions for an upcoming performance....

My senior year was very different; I was selected as one of 20 students to participate in an avant-garde learning experience. The "Community Centered High School" didn't have a campus, didn't separate course material into 50-minute periods, was totally experimental and viewed by the rest of the kids at Pacific Grove High as "Special Ed." For geeks. Or the learning impaired. (Well, you did have to have all your general education requirements out of the way before being considered for the program.... and students were recommended by those teachers with an interest in their "potential.")

I wasn't in any academic trouble in school, but I was frustrated with experiencing learning in chunks of time each day. How can one justify sectioning off productivity into scheduled classes? I didn't always feel artistic at 2 p.m. every Tuesday and Thursday. If I did, it was often very difficult to shut it off at the sound of the bell and shuffle off to another classroom to start on a different topic or discipline.

I wanted to be a writer. I wrote poetry from the time I was a wee little thing (okay, when I was less than 10 years old - wanna read my first poem?) and I'd authored a play in my sophomore year that the English class actually performed. As a CCHS student, I was able to study with real local authors, who helped me polish my prose. I wrote stuff that expressed my warped view of the universe and interpersonal relations -- which was pretty danged strange. Maybe I didn't wear black and sport a beret, but there was no doubt about my disaffection with life here on Earth. I snapped up every Science Fiction novel I could find and spent most of my recreational reading time in other universes.

That year, the only "mainstream" course I attended at the regular High School was Art, because the tools to draw and create were right there. I didn't have to leave when the bell rang! Even better, I was allowed to claim credit for daily walks on the shore (while composing or drawing) to meet the requirement for Physical Education!!!

This also meant I didn't experience a "normal" graduation exercise. None of the CCHS students did. Oh well. (Don't let the photo fool you; getting your yearbook graduation picture was one of those expected things.) I also only went to one High School football game in my entire life, and that was during my junior year. (The school nurse paid for the ticket for me "because everyone should go to a Home Game!" Rah. Rah.)

I should mention here that I got married during my senior year, and once again, the popular girls thought I was cool. They all wanted to see my diamond chip engagement ring and matching wedding band. Little did they suspect what being married was really all about....