“I love my dady and his modr sickl! and my dady loves his modr sickl!”

Those of you who know me, know that I’m expressing my midlife crisis primarily through being an irritable bastard and by driving around a 1968 Chinese motorcycle with a sidecar. It’s true – I love it. It’s interesting, fun, and an attention getter. The real reason I got it, though, was to drive my daughter around the neighborhood in it. For the first few weeks we had it – she would end every ride by looking over at me and saying “That. Was. AWESOME!!!” – which is just about as good as it gets. Even now – after several months of riding around, she will still occasionally make up a “motorcycle dance” – and every time I pick her up at school, we have the following conversation:

Zoe: Daddy! I’m so glad to see you! Did you bring the motorcycle?
Joe: I did, honey!
Zoe: YAYAYAY! ~motorcycle~motorcycle~motorcycle~

All of which is to say that her journal entry made perfect sense to me – but I was actually a little bothered by the fact that she said “my dady loves his modr sickl!” and not “my dady loves me.” I mentioned it to her, and she just rolled her eyes, said she knew I loved her, and asked if she could go on iCarly.com.

I hope that when she’s older, she remembers us spending time together riding around on the motorcycle, and not just a grouchy middle age dad with a biker obsession who dragged her along for the ride. Oh, by the way, I’m featured pretty heavily in the rest of the journal – typically on an airplane flying to another part of the country, or in a “YAY, My dady came home!” entry. I think I am going to have to find a therapist to deal with my guilt about the fact that she might need a therapist to deal with my absence. … and to ask if it’s unhealthy to constantly dream about modr sickls…

What Mr Harvey didn’t say – and what the story picked up by the Rocky Mountain News from the Smoky Hill High School Express failed to make clear – is that those “narrow catwalks” were specifically designed for safe use by students hanging lights for theater productions in the school. The “cavelike room” – far from being an al qaeda hideout – was … well, okay that part is pretty cool – but hardly more insidious. than any other hidden corner that students find to nap or make out or simply escape the increasingly opressive hand of school administration.

I admit, I get a charge out of learning that one of the secrets we kept back in my high school days has remained secret this long, and I am suprisingly sad to hear that it has been shut down. If I were still a Smoky Hill Theatre student, I know where I’d be hiding out to mourn its loss.

And THAT… is the rest of the story.

Student hideaway: The 31-year jig is up
Aurora – For 31 years, a hideaway in the rafters of Smoky Hill High School has served as a refuge for select drama students – a secret getaway whose whereabouts were passed down every year from class to class.

Unbeknownst to teachers and administrators, students had hauled up chairs, a radio and candles to furnish the lair above the lights. The room was actually a space created by the vents and walls of the ventilation system, accessible only by perilous traverses across catwalks.

Knowledge about the room had become a sacred Smoky Hill rite until the school newspaper last month revealed the secret. The April 14 article in the Smoky Hill Express prompted administrators to shut down access.

In its wake, newspaper students learned the power of the printed word. Drama students learned that their unsupervised exploits above the rafters could have been deadly.

“It’s probably a pretty good idea to keep the kids safe,” said Brian Pelepchan, 45, one of two teens who created the room during the school’s first year in 1975.

Pelepchan and his best friend, Gary Walker, were sophomores, avid rock climbers and drama- department “techies” who were allowed on the catwalks above the stage.

“We went up into the catwalks and saw this little opening, climbed up the structure and, lo and behold, we found this little cavelike place that we could hang out in,” said Pelepchan, now an engineer with three children who attend Smoky Hill.

On the one hand, I am suprised it stayed secret this long. On the other hand, ‘boo’ for uncovering “things students do that they shouldn’t” in the name of high school investigative journalism. “Things students do that they shouldn’t” is part of an overall system of inherent subversiveness that is necessary for healthy adolescent development. I’d hate to be the kid who said “are you looking for the secret room” to the reporter. He’s officially a pariah.

Barnsdall Art Center Art Show and Sale
Saturday, April 29, 2006
2pm – 5pm

Barnsdall Art Park
4800 Hollywood Blvd
Hollywood, CA

I have two observations:
1) WTF is wrong with people?
2) We may not be perfect parents, but we could be much, much worse.
 
Also, WTF is WRONG with people???

The Crack link is via Waxy and Daddy Types, the Lisa Whelchel link is via multiple sources, including 100 wild-eyed unfair and unbalanced monkeys typing.