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| Does anyone else find this a strange choice for high schoolers? |
My prom was not nearly as controlled as my daughter's. We held it in the ballroom at the Michigan Union. Kuma and I stopped in briefly, I in my $15 clearance-rack powder blue Laura Ashley dress, Kuma in his matching powder blue tux, both of us tongue in cheek. We picked up our commemorative brandy glasses, danced a dance or two, and headed off to the Marriott Hotel. There, our revelry involved the swimming pool, which had a tunnel linking the indoor with the outdoor pool. In my memory, it was winter; we swam in the icy outdoor water until we couldn't stand it anymore and ducked back inside. But that can't be right. Prom is in June.
In those days, you could easily change the birthday on your driver's license with a #2 pencil and Scotch tape, so beer was plentiful. (These modern holographic driver's licenses have driven our kids to cocaine.) Does the all-night group make-out session in the single hotel room (cost split among twelve kids) count as an orgy?
My parents hosted my friends for dinner before the dance, serving us fruit cups and ice water with white linen towels draped over their arms. I can't believe they allowed me to stay out all night, and yet in retrospect, the whole thing seems so innocent.
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