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50 Years and Still Searching


For the Graduating Class of 1961

Fifty years since graduation,

Now we’re spread around the nation.

Go Hawk black and gold, we cheered it,

In our conference others feared it.

 

 

Dye and Freeman, Moeller, Eno,

And Jim Dirksen, what a meano.

Taught us verbs and body functions,

Spelling, maps and highway junctions.

 

 

We studied hard, we laughed and cried,

We watched our peers pubescent ride.

We stared while hormones made us over,

Back then many rolled in clover.

 

 

We searched in class for inspiration

While smelling other’s perspiration.

Driver’s license, date’s a virgin.

That adolescent blood was surgin!

 

 

We watched films on reproduction,

Then to the drive-inn for instruction.

Learned the joy of masturbation,

Now its bran or constipation.

 

 

Acne made us shy and fearful,

Broken hearts would make us tearful.

Footprints on your parent’s visor,

High school fun that made us wiser.

 

 

On country roads we’d park and pet,

Some things in life you won’t forget.

Those moonlit nights gave us a thrill,

Teen roulette without the pill.

 

 

Hickied necks you’d hide from Mom,

First cigarette you smoked at prom.

Wrinkled pants and tousled hair,

When you got home, Dad’s icy stare!

 

By: George Beebe

Our parents told us to be careful,

Reverend Mack advised us prayerful.

Yet still we drove to Lover’s Lane,

And steamed up cars, with deeds profane!

 

 

We’d drive our Chevies, Fords and Olds,

Down darkened streets and country roads,

Until we found our treasured spot,

Where prying eyes could see us not.

 

 

Near barnyard fields ‘twas nature’s call,

That urged us on our senior fall.

And there some made their future vows,

To love each other.  Do I hear cows?

 

 

Now we’re old, our guts head South.

It’s prunes and vegies in our mouth.

Some may try to hide the years,

That stretch the skin, enlarge the ears.

 

 

But while we work and sweat and toil,

Our skin grows old, devoid of oil.

Hair is gray, teeth slowly yellow,

Bellies bulge as spirits mellow.

 

 

Some dye their hair and join a gym,

Make muscles taut and waistlines trim,

Sit-ups, push-ups, daily runs,

Still can’t keep fat off sagging buns.

 

 

New push up bras, control top hose,

Yet late at night the mirror knows,

That nature’s won, our class concedes,

As butt cheeks fall and hair recedes.

 

 

Life’s short ride will soon be over,

We’ll all be pushing up the clover.

So look around and hug a friend,

We’ve been together start to end!