We had a music teacher at the high school that I went to who epitomized what it meant to be an A.H. He went out of his way to be unpleasant. Consequently, as the years went by, fewer and fewer kids came back into the music program each year, and they all seemed to feel the same way about the director. He also had an alcohol problem, he came to school smelling like rotten booze in the morning, and came back from lunch smelling like a fresh batch. He belittled everybody and always seemed to want to toss people from his classes. You would think that he would wise up and realize that being a bellicose antisocial drunken fool might jeopardize his job, but the school apparently had better priorities than dealing with him. Interesting, the marching band had more kids that marched out the door of his class and never came back than marched on the football field. The funniest thing we ever did at school my senior year was the time that we hid behind a block wall that was at the end of the cut de sac street the band practiced on, and we had a large M-80 as part of this stunt. When they came to a stop at the end of the street, we lit the M-80 off of my buddies' cigarette and I heaved it right into the middle of the marching band and we took off. We heard a rather majestic BOOM and instantly there was girls screaming, the music stopped, and you could hear the director yelling at everybody through his bull horn. We drove the long way around the block, got lunch at the Carl's Jr. and returned to school about the middle of lunch and acted like nothing happened, Walking around with the Carl's Jr cup seemed to alleviate any suspicion that we did it. Man, if a kid did that today, he would be in more deep doo-doo than you would believe. We acted like nothing happened and nobody seemed to know it was us. That was when fireworks were fun and not a felony.
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