Old School

It was the 70s.  The late seventies, and my family and I were back in the United States.  Not only were we back, we were back in Texas, and the culture shock made middle school even more horrible.  While all my classmates were showing up to school in jeans, I was still forced to dress in...polyester. Hand-me-down polyester.  My pants had seams on the front of them. 

As if that wasn't embarrassing enough, people said that I talked "funny".  I didn't have the same accent that everyone else did, and I hardly ever contracted "you" and "all" to fit in with the crowd. I didn't talk much to most people, just the two or three girls that let me hang around with them. I wasn't allowed to wear makeup, either, so I just let my long hair hang in my face, very similar to all those emo kids running about today.  I was pitiful, and I knew that I was pitiful. 

Except when the Commodores sang "Brick House" on the radio. 

To say that I was naive about some things is an understatement, but I had ZERO idea what the song was about.  I only knew that they were singing about a woman, and that she was "mighty-mighty", and she was confident enough to let "it all hang out".  She was sassy! That woman did not give a hoot that she was the only one at her school wearing polyester pants with a seam up the front.  That woman wore her hair pulled back from her face, and she talked however she wanted, dammit. 

And the tune was catchy!  I'd find myself moving in time with the beat, and if I wasn't careful, I'd break into my arms akimbo version of American Bandstand where ever I happened to be.  It was impossible to be down when the Commodores were singing "Brick House".  Even the most surly teenager in the midst of full-on angst cracked a smile hearing that tune.  It put a strut in your step.

I confess that I commandeered the song. I got a little sassy. I played it in my head to give myself a feeling of confidence, especially walking down the halls of Kirby Junior High School.  Hearing that song in my head gave me the spark to raise my hand in class, to try out for more solos in choir, and to at least try to talk to boys. 

For that, I am forever grateful.  If I could meet the Commodores, I would tell them just that.  I would also say "36? You got all excited over a 36? My 42s beat your 36s COLD!"

I never gave up the sass.






1.) An old school song that makes you happy.  Old School?  Old school?  I googled "Old School" to be sure. Because I'm anxious to fit in and be one of the blogger gang.