(Maggie and Mary walking the streets of Rockaway Beach, 1967)
Without a doubt, the most memorable of all senior activities was our class skip trip to Rockaway Beach, Missouri. It was a hotbed of frivolity in the Ozarks, complete with bumper cars, paddle boats, and motor scooters. Far freakin’ out! Ya can’t top that for entertainment in the 1960s! Plus, at the end of the day, we had a dinner/dance on a real live paddle boat. Dress-up attire required. Oooh, lah, lah!
It took three school busses to haul about 100 seniors and brave sponsors to Rockaway Beach. Even though we weren’t spending the night, we had some motel/cottage rooms for changing clothes, taking naps, whatever. No hanky-panky allowed, though. I mostly hung out with the BOM. We rented a paddle boat, but it wasn’t much fun and not because of the drippy weather. I didn’t realize how much damn work it was going to be to propel one across the lake. Good lord! I was exhausted! A motor scooter looked a lot easier and a lot more fun, but we didn’t rent one. Bummer.
I think the best thing about the Skip Trip was just that we seniors got to take off a day of school and romp in the Ozarks. Heck, I’d never even been to the Ozarks before, so I felt like I was on some exotic vacation.
At recent reunions, classmates have talked about how much fun it would be to take a 45th reunion trip back to Rockaway Beach. I have it on good authority, me, that the place has changed very little over the years. It’s like taking a walk back into the Twilight Zone. Outer Limits. A total time warp. The bumper cars still look like the 1967 models and the paddle boats are still moored on the beach waiting for suckers to rent them. If we can set aside our aches and pains long enough to actually take a class trip to Rockaway in a few years, that’s one activity I absolutely do not care to relive. Paddle boats. I don’t even want to get near one. No way. Nada. Skip it.
(The Flaming Bore, in a flaming fashion disaster, with friends.
Sunday was high school graduation in our fair burg. I didn’t attend the rowdy affair, but I did pause to think about my own “Pomp and Circumstance” experience 40+ years ago. To tell you the truth, I remember very little about it. I’m sure the valedictorian, salutatorian, and class speaker had plenty of inspirational words to pass along--but I was more interested in pondering the graduation booze party I would be attending with the Boyfriend of the Month (BOM), who had somehow become the Boyfriend of the Semester--my personal world record in keeping a guy interested in me, despite all odds.
Without a doubt, the most memorable of all senior activities was our class skip trip to Rockaway Beach, Missouri. It was a hotbed of frivolity in the Ozarks, complete with bumper cars, paddle boats, and motor scooters. Far freakin’ out! Ya can’t top that for entertainment in the 1960s! Plus, at the end of the day, we had a dinner/dance on a real live paddle boat. Dress-up attire required. Oooh, lah, lah!
It took three school busses to haul about 100 seniors and brave sponsors to Rockaway Beach. Even though we weren’t spending the night, we had some motel/cottage rooms for changing clothes, taking naps, whatever. No hanky-panky allowed, though. I mostly hung out with the BOM. We rented a paddle boat, but it wasn’t much fun and not because of the drippy weather. I didn’t realize how much damn work it was going to be to propel one across the lake. Good lord! I was exhausted! A motor scooter looked a lot easier and a lot more fun, but we didn’t rent one. Bummer.
I think the best thing about the Skip Trip was just that we seniors got to take off a day of school and romp in the Ozarks. Heck, I’d never even been to the Ozarks before, so I felt like I was on some exotic vacation.
At recent reunions, classmates have talked about how much fun it would be to take a 45th reunion trip back to Rockaway Beach. I have it on good authority, me, that the place has changed very little over the years. It’s like taking a walk back into the Twilight Zone. Outer Limits. A total time warp. The bumper cars still look like the 1967 models and the paddle boats are still moored on the beach waiting for suckers to rent them. If we can set aside our aches and pains long enough to actually take a class trip to Rockaway in a few years, that’s one activity I absolutely do not care to relive. Paddle boats. I don’t even want to get near one. No way. Nada. Skip it.
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