#i did intentionally change her going to barbara when she gets her first period to both of them

[wizisbored]

squinting at netherborne trying to figure out lydias understanding of gender

[teentitanimals]

AU Where All the Batkids are in School but are Still Superheroes

I see a lot of No Powers Highschool AUs out there, but superheroing is half the fun to me. And yeah, technically, I’m pretty sure most of the Batfam have been to school, but I mean, at the same time? You’d have to squish their ages down, but I think it’d be wild! And also, it’s all the Batkids (and some Superkids because why not, they go to the same school in this AU, okay?), including Helena, Terry, Matt, etc. And yes, they all keep their backstories (as in, Terry and Matt are still McGinnis’s too, and all that.) Also, I suck at knowing the education level system and ages, so, just a warning there.

Not in School (duh): Bruce, Alfred, Selina, Jim, Lucius, Clark, Lois, other adults

In (Fourth Year) College: Kate (23-24)

In (Second Year) College: Dick, Barbara (19-20)

In (First Year) College: Tam (18-19)

In Senior Year: Jason, Luke, Kara (17-18)

In Junior Year: Cass, Harper, Terry (16-17)

In Sophomore Year: Tim, Steph, Carrie, Duke, Conner (15-16)

In Freshman Year: Damian, Helena, Colin (14-15)

In 8th Grade: Matt, Jon, Cullen (13-14)

In 4th Grade: Timothy Fox (9-10)

In Kindergarten: Tiffany (5-6)

Who Stays Where?

For reference, I’d say they all go to a school somewhere between Gotham and Metropolis, rather than Gotham Academy or Metropolis High. Let’s call it... Mediocre High. A mediocre school for completely normal, mediocre kids.

Stays in Metropolis w/ Clark and Lois, but are at Wayne Manor 90% of the time anyway: Kara, Conner, Jon

Has their own apartments/safehouses but are at Wayne Manor 90% of the time time anyway: Kate, Dick, Jason, Tim, Steph, Harper

Stays at Wayne Manor: Terry, Cass, Carrie, Duke, Damian, Helena, Colin, Matt, Cullen (unless Cullen stays with his sister... or if any of them run away, because they do that often too)

Stays with their parents, or at their own apartments, and are at Wayne Manor a little less than 90% of the time anyway: Barbara, Tam, Luke, Timothy, Tiffany

What’s the Sitch with Relationships?

Biologically Bruce’s, and known to the public as biologically Bruce’s: Damian, Helena

Biologically Bruce’s, but not known to the public as biologically Bruce’s: Terry, Matt (these two often visit their mother!)

Legally adopted by Bruce: Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Duke

Not legally adopted by Bruce but, come on, they’re his kids anyway: Harper, Cullen, Carrie, Colin

Family Friends that are like siblings/cousins (or siblings-in-law ;3): Kara, Conner, Jon, Barbara, Steph, Tam, Luke, Timothy, Tiffany

Wine Aunt/Older Sister: Kate

Shenanigans

It was a hilarious bit started by Steph and encouraged by Dick, Jason, and Carrie that they should all stuff themselves into the smallest limo or helicopter possible and crawl out like clowns. It was funny, to be fair, but the bloodshed spilled because of it banned them from doing it again. The kids got split into two separate cars after that, but eventually went back to one big limo, except for those who’d prefer to keep their sanity and drive there on their own (assuming they have a licence).

This batch of kids, excluding Kara, Conner and Jon, are often referred to as the “Wayne kids”, or the “Gotham kids”. Sometimes Kara, Conner and Jon get called Gotham Kids as well, despite being from Metropolis and proud. They’re vocality from protesting against being called Gotham Kids earned them the nickname “Not-Gotham Kids”.

Damian, Helena, Colin, Matt, Jon and Cullen are one of Those groups. Often together, closely knit, all characters on their own, but together, they lose all braincells. Teachers love all of them individually (with the exception of Damian), but are absolutely terrified of them as a group.

The second group most like that would be the girls- Tam, Kara, Steph, Cass, Harper, Carrie and sometimes Barbara, Kate and Helena. Alone, they’re pretty good kids, but together their chaotic-ness knows no bounds.

Who are we kidding? All of these kids are like that. Put any two together, and you’re either going to see someone get stabbed, a glitter bomb explode, an impromptu dance session, or debate the pronunciation of “bologna” for an hour.

Due to Damian often claiming he’s the rightful heir as the blood son, Helena, Matt and Terry will often pipe up to remind him that he isn’t the only blood son (or daughter, in Helena’s case). This often causes problems, not because Damian attacks them (verbally or physically), but because Terry and Matt aren’t, in the public’s eye, biologically Bruce’s, so the kids often have to scramble to make up some excuse to outsiders, often settling with it being an inside joke.

In this AU, Terry and Matt go by “Futurebat and Futurebird” because Why Not? As for Conner and Jon both being Superboy... how about, we just keep it that way? Because, really, Why Not? The public dubs them both the “Superboys”, and there’s no need to change it for now. Sometimes Conner gets called the Superclone, but mostly they just differentiate by some variation of “Superboy One/Uno and Superboy Two/Dos”. Sometimes “Superteen and SuperPre-Teen” when Jon was a bit younger. Also, think of all the shenanigans that can arise from that. Amazing.

Damian, at first, had as much hate towards Helena (and eventually Terry and Matt when they learned of them as well) as he did towards Tim. But, Helena always found his anger a bit funny (so long as it wasn’t life-threatening, which it often was). She never wanted to “be the heir” to Batman or Catwoman. She just happened to be their kid, and she wanted her own hero persona anyway, aka The Huntress.

To explain the situation with Helena, Terry and Matt, I’d say Helena (who’s a few months younger than Damian) was raised by Bruce and Selina, but the two’s relationship was on-and-off, and there were long periods where Selina would solo-parent Helena and Bruce (or Alfred and/or Dick, really) would solo-parent Helena. Eventually, the two got their shit together and are currently in a loving relationship, but not married yet. Terry and Matt were, of course, kept hidden from Bruce, being raised by Warren and Mary in a loving family. Eventually, after the death of Warren, and Terry trying to strike out as a solo hero, and the discovery that his DNA matched Bruce’s rather than Warren’s, their story was revealed that Terry was planned to be “future Batman” by Amanda Waller (needless to say Damian did Not Like That). Terry confronted Bruce and told him about it, and eventually Matt would learn the truth as well.

The only people Damian actively calls by their first names are Jon, Colin and Helena. Helena is only because Damian didn’t want to admit she was a Wayne at first (even though her legal last name in this AU is Kyle-Wayne).

They have a lot of animals, some are permanent, some come and go, some are just strays they feed, but nothing will compare to the amount of cats they have. The majority are strays that stay outside of the manor, yes, but they have too many. Sometimes they’ll be walking down a street opposite side of Gotham, and see one of their cats. This isn’t even because Selina now lives with them, and she brought her cats with her. No, it’s because Dick, Barbara, Jason and Steph, among others, loved the idea of Catwoman being a crazy cat lady, so they kept getting her more cats, which, in turn, gave everyone a new cat. And Damian was not helping in the least bit. Selina at least tried to stop them from bringing more cats home, but Damian would smuggle them back in anyway. Bruce honestly wishes someone had a cat allergy so they would have an excuse not to have that many cats.

Helena is a dog person. She likes cats, but... Dogs.

The Batkids all fight over the right of getting to babysit Tiffany.

Cass is often called the Good Kid by teachers and staff. That is not true, the true Good Kid is Duke. This is because he’s the only one that can maintain his braincells even in a group... 90% of the time, anyway.

Half of these kids will vanish during school hours to go stop some crime even though Bruce has repeatedly told them not to do that. The other kids who are not superhero vigilantes or manage to respect said rule (which is not often) scramble to make excuses for them. No excuse has ever been something normal, but it works because “When have Wayne kids ever been normal?”

School events like dances and football games are awful. Some of the kids are aware going will be awful, and desperately try to get out of it, but someway, somehow, they always wind up there. It would have been chaotic enough just having the Gotham Kids go, but when they bring their friends too (Teen Titans, Young Justice, Outlaws, whomever), there’s no hope. Their classmates at school both fear and look forward to these events, depending on how they go down. On one hand, it’s the Waynes! You’re basically watching “Keeping up with the Waynes” in real life! On the other hand, oh god, don’t get caught in the crossfire, whatever you do, run for dear life if you must.

Amazingly, Dick is the only one who got permanently banned from these events. And he didn’t even do anything. Well... anything as bad as his siblings, anyway.

They have all gotten suspended at least once, whether they are a Good Kid or not. Jason is actually one of the Good Kids so long as his siblings aren’t around to annoy him, but he got caught with a gun once, and barely escaped getting expelled... well, actually, he didn’t barely escape it, he was a Good Kid after all. But it was still on the table. That was, miraculously, the only time he got suspended.

Damian, surprisingly, does not have the highest suspension rate, but he does have the highest “called into the office” rate. You can guess all the reasons- sneaking pets into school, sneaking wild animals into school, having knifes and/or other weapons on him, belittling other students (he’s not intentionally trying to bully them, but, he can’t help but point out what they’re doing wrong), arguing and insulting teachers, ditching class (for vigilantism of course), etc.

The highest suspension rate goes to Dick, before he went to college. Mostly it was just due to how often he would skip classes and not turn in homework, but occasionally he would get into fights (to defend another kid, usually). The schools hadn’t yet gotten tolerable to the chaos that is the Waynes yet.

I suppose I should list the Good Kids. They are as follows: Cass, Duke, Jason, Luke, Helena, Cullen, Jon and Tiffany (she is Small and Innocent).

The Bad Kids: DAMIAN, Conner, Steph (she likes causing trouble for fun), Carrie (same as Steph, but more class clown-y) and Terry (mostly when he was younger).

The Bad Kids Sometimes: Harper, Timothy Fox, Kara

The Neutral Kids: Tam, Tim (depends on whether he’s crashed from lack of sleep or caffeine overdose), Dick, Matt, Barbara

The “Troubled” Kids (don’t label them that schools, rude): Colin, Cullen too technically but he’s more “Good”, Kate, literally all of them depending on the time of day (or night, specifically)

[amaikana]

Smitten [a TPN fanfic]

-.-.- Rating: K+ Pair: NorEmma Wordcount: 2k+ Tag(s): Middle School AU, Romantic Comedy, Mistaken Identity, Pansexuality Summary:

“Ray! Ray! Raaaay! I’m having a crisis now, Wake uuuup!”  “The heck you’re doing at 1 a.m?!” “The boy I thought I’m crushing at all this time is actually a girl and she’s actually so much cuter up close but I might just kind of accidentally sexually harassed her in a public library. What should I do nooow?!” “…come again?”

OR, Norman had just experienced his first silly eighth-grader crush on a cute orange haired boy in the library, But then suddenly things took a turn to a completely awkward path.            

A/N: Cross-posted on AO3 -.-.-

.

 “Some of us get dipped in flat, some in satin, some in gloss. But every once in a while, you find someone who's iridescent, and when you do, nothing will ever compare.”

 —A quote from “Flipped�� movie

 .

 || Smitten ||

.

Norman first saw the boy in the school library. The boy had a bright orange hair and wearing an equally bright smile. He also still had some baby fat on his cheeks that’s making him so much cuter. Humming quietly an upbeat tune, the boy’s eyes moved back and forth, sorting out through the fantasy fictions shelf. His finger traced the rows of books there. His eyes sparkled with joy when he’d managed to find the book he wanted.

 What an adorable boy.

It’s called having a crush, Ray said. Well, that’s maybe not exactly what he said, but still.

“It means that you’re finally getting that late, late puberty and—God bless—having a crush on someone. It also means that I can be glad now. Because I honestly thought something’s wrong with your head every time your smartass big brain went totally clueless to Barbara’s passive-aggressive attempt at flirting at you since the first year.”

To be fair, it wasn’t that he was totally clueless about Barbara. It’s just he chose not to pay attention to stupid things like Barbara’s every day sweet nonsenses.

“So, who is it?” Ray asked curiously, pausing the game that Norman was winning for the fifth time straight.

Ray must’ve been fishing for distraction because he’s secretly way more frustrated than he let on, Norman thought amusedly.

Ray frowns. “What’s with that face? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” He grins.

Ray lunged at him and started tickling him, trying to get him to say the truth by force. But five minutes into the tickle fight, everything was forgotten. They never talked about it again for the rest of the day.

“Come to think of it, you haven’t really told me that day,” Ray suddenly says in the middle of their P.E break.

A few good meters away from them, Ms. Krone was sitting on a bench, watching with apparent uninterest all the eighth-grader kids who were playing basket and volley ball in the court. Poor woman. She must’ve been one of those teachers who didn’t actually had any interest in teaching and only in for it for the good salary.

Norman steals a water bottle from Ray’s hand. Ray only rolled his eyes and sighed.

“About what?” he asked, after chugging a good amount of water from the said bottle. Ray knocked his head lightly with the bottle in annoyance when he returned it to him.

“About your crush, Norman!”

“Why are you so invested in it?”

“Why?” Ray frowned. “Don’t you think I have the right to know too? Being your best friend and all.”

“Oh, so you’re finally admitting that I’m your best friend, now? Didn’t you said yesterday that you hated me the most?”

Ray scowled. “That’s only because you kept beating me in Mario Kart and stole my dessert again!”

Norman laughed. “Sorry.”

“Ck, don’t even pretend. I know you’re not.” Ray rolled his eyes again.

“So?”

“Hm?”

“Who’s your crush?”

“You’re so stubborn.”

“I am.”

Norman paused, his mind recalling back to that certain afternoon in the library. The adorable boy with the cute humming voice and the brightest hair. He smiled dopily remembering it.

“It’s…a boy from a seventh grade, I think.”

Norman remembered that the boy was carrying a trigonometry book that day. They had trigonometry in seventh grade here.

Beside him, Ray chocked on his drink. “A…boy?!”

Norman turned at him. “Is that so surprising?”

“I mean, uh, I never know that you’re into boys? It’s just- I support you and all, really. Not that your sexuality would matter to me anyhow. Just… It’s kinda surprising, y’know? It never really crossed my mind that you’re gay.”

“But I am not.”

“Huh?”

He laughed at Ray’s dumbfounded face.

“There’s more spectrum of sexualities in this world beside being straight and gay, Ray.” Norman grins exasperatedly, shaking his head. “For me it’s like, their gender doesn’t really matter? If I find that someone’s cute then they’re cute. I’m sure there’s a name for it… I think they called it ‘pan’ or something?”

“‘Pan’? Like the pan for cooking? Why would you call yourself after a cooking utensil?”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s pansexuality to be precise. But beats me. It wasn’t me who came up with the name.”

“Okay. So. You have a crush on a boy. Do you know what his name is? Or at least his class?”

Norman stared blankly. He had only realized it now. “I don’t know. I was too smitten watching him and didn’t think about asking him for it.”

“Wait. So, you’re telling me you totally didn’t talk to him that day? Despite you both being in the library and it was just the two of you? You were just watching him from afar like some sort of creepy stalker?”

He kicked Ray’s leg. “He was just that cute. Almost pretty even, I think.” Norman paused and flushed, remembering that boy’s face again. “It should be pretty justified that I was loss at words! You’d understand yourself when you see him.”

“I mean, I can recognize a good-looking guy when I see one. But to the point of being dumbly smitten? I guess unlikely. You’re forgetting the fact that I’m not into guys.”

The school bell rang, signaling the change of period. And just like that, they dropped the conversation.

Norman didn’t get to see the cute boy again until a few days later, when he’s staying up in the library for a science competition paper research until late night. It might be unusual, but in their school curfew hours didn’t apply to the library. The library was always open 24/7, and all the students were permitted to go out of the dorm even very late at night if it were to the library.

That night, Norman was reading one of the books about electricity theories when he suddenly heard a voice of someone grumbling. The voice came from one of the aisles near his table. Norman decided to take a break for a bit and might as well help the person.

True to his guess, the person was just two bookshelves away from there. The person seemed to struggle reaching out for a book in the top shelf. And as he got closer, Norman could see that the said person was the same cute orange-haired boy he saw the other week.

His heart suddenly did a flip.

“Can I help you there?”

The person turned at him. His bright green eyes looked so mesmerizing. The boy blinked at him. And Norman bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying stupid things. Like ‘how can you be that cute’ or something—Ray would definitely laugh if he knew.

“Uhh, yeah… Can you help me getting that book with yellow cover there?” The boy pointed out at the book he meant.

Norman smiled. “Sure.”

This was honestly the first time he really appreciated the tall gene his parents passed on him.

“Here.” He passed the book to the boy.

But as the boy took a step closer to take it from his hand, he accidentally stepped on his own shoelace and stumbled over.

“Careful!”

Norman reached out to steady the boy. Luckily, he managed to catch the boy in time. But……

 Wait.

Norman realized something. His face immediately flushes.

 He…he…his chest isn’t flat!

“S-sorry!” Norman yelped. He stumbled back as if the boy—wait, girl—burned his hand.

The girl laughed awkwardly, and only now Norman realized that her voice was obviously high-pitched and clearly sounded feminine.

“Yeah. Um. Haha, accidents happen.”

Horror realization suddenly dawned into him. Not only he had mistakenly thought she was a boy, but he also had just kind of accidentally touched her……uh, personal part. And the worst thing was, this girl was his first crush!

“Ray! Ray! Raaaay! I’m having a crisis, Wake uuuup!”

One of the best things about rooming out with your best-friend is that you could dump all your crisis onto them practically whenever you want. As long as they’re awake, that is.

Ray opened his bleary eyes and yawned loudly.

“The heck you’re doing at 1 a.m?!”

“The boy I thought I’m crushing at all this time is actually a girl and she’s actually so much cuter up close but I might just kind of accidentally sexually harassed her in a public library. What should I do nooow?!”

Ray stared dumbfoundedly at him. Then blinked. Then blinked again.

“…come again?”

A can of vending machine coffee and Ray having the best laugh of his life later, Norman managed to get everything out of his chest. And they’re finally having some sane conversation again—because for Heaven’s sake, Ray just won’t stop laughing!

“Okay, okay.” Ray wiped out some of his tears and made an effort to really toning down his laughter. “So, based on your story, it seems that there’s only one solution to this problem.”

“And that is…?”

Ray made a serious face and intentionally dragged the tension out. Norman waited with dread.

“One word, my friend.”

“One word?”

“All you have to do is……Talk!”

“Oh my Gooood!” Norman groaned and buried his face in their cushion pillows. “That’s what I ask your advice for! I can’t possibly initiate another conversation after…after…that! I mean, what if she thinks that I’m a pervert? And what if—”

“You’re having too many ‘what if’s.” Ray rolled his eyes. “Look, based on your story, it sounds like the girl didn’t even really minding it. I mean, not as like, she’s liking it. But like, she doesn’t make it as a big matter. Y’got it?”

“But still! How can I talk to her again after that! I mean, just imagine it. If you’re a girl and a boy who yesterday touched your, uhm, not-so-flat chest, suddenly just randomly talk to you the next day, what would do you think? It’s…ugh. It’s not even just embarrassing. Isn’t that also, uh, kind of creepy? I mean– oh my God. I’m older than her too! That’s—”

“Whoa– Stop right there, buddy! For anything-up-there sake! She’s a seventh grade, not a third grade. You’re not being a creepy older man, what the heck. As I said, you’re having too many ‘what if’s. If you don’t wanna talk, at least just be your usual self and don’t avoid her you’re meeting her again. Now, that’d be pretty rude if you suddenly treating her like some kind of germ.”

Having a talk with Ray was absolutely not helping. Norman walked to school again the next time dreading meeting that seventh grade girl—who he still didn’t know the name yet, by the way.

Turned out fate had some kind of grudges towards him. Because when he walked into library again to borrow some books for his biology essay, the same feminine voice he dreaded to hear suddenly sounded just beside his ear.

“Umm, hello…”

Norman managed to bit his tongue to stifle the yelp just in time. He turned around and found that it was really the cute girl from before. She was wearing their uniform dress-code this time. A white buttoned shirt and rippled black skirt, instead of some jacket dan jeans he saw her wearing the two times he met her before.

“Uh, haha. Um. Yes. Hi.”

“Um, hi too. Uhh, you’re the boy from last night, righ—”                                                

“L-last night. Yeah. I mean. I’M SORRY! I promise I didn’t really mean to be a pervert or something and I am not weird I promise even thought I totally mistook you as a boy for like a week anyway I mean that doesn’t count as weird right I mean, uh, sorry, um—”

The girl laughed. “Hahahah, oh my God. It’s okay, it’s okay. I know that was an accident.”

“Uhh, yeah. Accident. Totally.”

The girl stared exasperatedly at him. “You’re so funny.”

“Um. Thanks.” Then, because apparently smooth wasn’t in his genes, he tackled again, “You’re so cute.”

The girl blushed and giggled awkwardly, and it was the cutest thing Norman ever seen. Apart from catching Ray hugging a body pillow, that is.

They both stood awkwardly in front each other. And Norman found his supposedly gifted IQ was useless at making conversation when facing cute people.

“Do you like ice cream?” he finally blurted out.

“E-eh? Y-yeah. I mean. Yes! I really like it! I like strawberry cheesecake flavor. W-what about you?”

“Me? Um…I’m not really picky, but I think I like choco mint the most?”

The girl laughed again. “Cool! It was my favorite before. Hey, I know! You should try the strawberry cheesecake one. We might have the same taste in ice creams!”

He beamed. “That’s a good idea. Hey, let’s go out for ice cream this weekend. We can try many flavors we haven’t tried and finding out whether we really have the same taste!”

The girl stared at him dumbfoundedly, and Norman wondered if he had said the wrong thing.

“I-is it a date?” the girl blurted out.

“E-eh?!”

The girl immediately flushed bright and buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God, sorry to jump to conclusions just like that. I just thought—”

“I-it could be a date!” he hurriedly cut her.

The girl slowly peeked through her fingers. “R-really?”

Norman smiled and nodded. “Yes.” Then he grabbed the girl’s wrists and peeled them off of her still-blushing cute face. “Of course. I’d like dating withyou too!”

“Heeeh?!”

It took Norman a moment to realize that date and dating are two similar words with different meanings.

“I-I MEAN—”

“Please tell me you were serious because I definitely have a crush on you since seventh grade!”

It was his turn to be dumbfounded.

The girl snapped her mouth shut with her palms again. “Oops. I wasn’t supposed to say that yet……wasn’t I?”

Norman laughed awkwardly. Because he wasn’t sure how to react with the sudden confession. “Um…I think I kind of have a crush on you too…since that time I first saw you in the library. L-last week, I mean. N-not last night.”

“Wow…” the girl whispered. Her bright green eyes widened and stared at him a mix of awe and embarrassment.

“Uh… I think we should probably slow down a bit, though.” He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Well, for starters how about some kind of introduction? I mean, I don’t even know your name yet, so…”

The girl smiled. She averted her eyes shyly to the side before meeting his again. “Y-yeah. Um, okay. I go first. Since I already know yours.” She let out an awkward chuckle. “I-I’m Emma. Eighth grade, as you might’ve guessed. I’m rooming with my seventh grade friend, Gilda. I…I kinda like you since I saw you in the quiz competition in our school festival fair last year. W-well, you might not remember me because my team got eliminated in the second round. Uhh, haha. B-but… Y-you were so cool back then.” The girl grinned shyly.

“Wow. Okay. Uh… My name’s Norman. Eighth grade too. And, uh… Okay. You probably already knew those things. So… uhm. Oh my God. This is a mess, I’m so sorry.”

The girl—who he knew now, named Emma—giggled again. “It’s okay. We’re both kinda a mess here.”

“Yeah… You’re right.” He laughed.

The atmosphere seemed a bit lighter now that they’ve already talked about the elephant in the room.

“Um, by the way… You said you’re eighth grade, right? But… I thought you were seventh. If I recall correctly, you were borrowing trigonometry book back then…”

“Ooh, you saw me on that day! I was borrowing some books for my roommate. She had some assignments for the next day, but she caught a terrible flu so I offered to borrow it for her.”

“You’re such a good roommate,” he commented.

“Well, roommates are usually our closest friends, right? I bet you’re a good roommate too!”

“My roommate is…kind of a handful. Also annoying. Well, yeah, he’s my best-friend though.”

“I know right! Sometimes roommates can be so annoying! Eh, wait…doesn’t that mean that they also find us annoying?”

He laughed. Emma was so refreshing.

“Hey, um, I think we still have about half an hour for the break. Want to go to the cafeteria and grab lunch together?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Emma agreed. “Now that you mentioned the cafeteria, I’m starting to get hungry again.”

Norman laughed. Meeting Emma was unexpected. Her straight-forward personality was even more unexpected. But it was so much fun, so he’s definitely not going to complaint much.

.

(BONUS SCENE)

“Do you think I should wear the light green stripped one or the plain blue one? Should I wear varsity jacket too? Or maybe some vest on it?”

Ray groaned for the umpteenth time just in that hour. “I swear, Norman! I bet she won’t even care even if you showed up with some washed up t-shirt and crocs!”

Norman stared at him as if he had just said something so scandalizing.

Suddenly, a door to their room was thrown open. A mop of orange hair burst in.

“Raaaay! I’m having a date with this cute boy in an hour and you should help me—”

Emma, his friend, paused at the door with a comical jaw drop. Ray glanced back to find his roommate mirroring her expression.

“You—”

“You—”

Ray regretted that he didn’t have his camera with him. That one was definitely picture-worthy.

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

1965

(Year One of My Rock & Roll Fandom)

  By  Stephen Jay Morris

Wednesday.   June 12.   2019

©Scientific Morality

             Selective memory?  Why not?  It’s my past and I can review it anyway I want!  Yes.  I do remember the bad times. Yes.  I try to avoid past mistakes.  True. Nostalgia is a symptom of depression. I went to my doctor and he prescribed a drug from which I am still withdrawing!  You want to know what’s over rated?  Modern day.  Now! The only people who are happy are narcissists.  Technology?  Fantastic!  Pretty soon a drone will deliver my pizza.  I’m still waiting for flying cars.  Well?  Where in the fuck are they!?

So, let me indulge in my reminiscences of a crappy youth.   I may die of natural causes tomorrow.  This is my party and it’s freaking me out, baby!  You don’t dig old farts?  Then flake off!

           Every older generation thinks the music they heard in their youth was and is better than that of the present day.  I plead guilty.  Let’s explore why I feel that way.

A certain musical tone will reflect the character of the times.  As recording Technology changes and improves, the tone of music changes.  In my youth, analog magnetic tape produced an inimitable sound.  In the 50’s, most music was recorded live onto a two-track, stereo tape.  In the, 60’s it grew to four-track and was no longer done live.  Engineers would overdub recordings onto each individual track. Well, not to go over the evolution of recording, but to put it succinctly, recording went from analog to digital.  Hell, you don’t even have to sing well anymore; you’ve got auto tune!  Warning:  old man whining alert.  That is why there aren’t any more requirements for talent.  It’s all about sex appeal and fake masculinity and not emoting the lyrics of a song.  It’s no longer about art!  It’s about being a braggadocios Dandy.  Well, you can have it.   Not me. I am going back to 1965.  

Where do I start?  All I need is a list.  The science community always said that one’s olfactory is a trigger mechanism to memory. You smell something familiar and you are transported back in time.  For me, it’s a song.  With every song, comes a memory.  Here is an example:  Whenever I hear a Four Tops song, like “I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch!),” I remember my dad driving my young family to the Natural History Museum in Exposition Park.  We would drive through the Black community of South Central Los Angeles to get there. I would see Black kids sitting on stoops of old Craftsman houses, listening to portable radios blasting out that Motown sound.  They were engaged in happy conversations or good, old fashioned horseplay.  I wanted to get out of the car and join them! Instead, I had to listen to my dad pontificate, like he was some collage professor!  I would later learn that he was really stupid and it was all a false front.  What I resented was his absolute control of the car radio.  We either had to listen to news or a station that played only classical music. Conversely, whenever my mom drove the car, she would tune it to the local pop/rock station.  I used to tell my mom I was saving up to buy a Japanese transistor radio.  I really was.  I had my own piggy bank. In 1963, she bought me a transistor radio for my birthday!  For the next two years I would listen to Dodger radio with Vin Scully.  Then, I saw the Rolling Stones on the Ed Sullivan Show.  I recently looked this up: It aired on a Sunday, October 25, 1964. That would be only time my dad allowed me to watch the Stones on T.V.   After that, he would chase me out of the room because of something negative about them he’d read in the newspaper.  But, all I needed was that first exposure.  I fell in love with Rock & Roll!  

I must have spent a lot of chump change on batteries for my handheld radio.  The station I listened to the most was 93 KHJ AM.  It had the strongest signal in Los Angeles, 1600 Kilocycles.  At night, its waves would travel all the way to Utah! Then, there were the DJ’s who had funny pseudonyms like “Machine Gun Kelly,”  “Bobby Tripp,” “Robert W. Morgan,” “Sam Riddle,” and the one and only, “Humble Harve.”  He would play the most Rolling Stones records than any of the other disk jockeys.

In 1965, radio was popular among teenagers for music listening.  Television soon got worried, so they created dance shows to attract the youth market.  On the local stations there was “She-Bang,” “Hollywood-A-Go-Go,” and “Boss City.”  On the major networks, there was “Shindig,” “Hullabaloo,” and “The Lloyd Thaxton Show.” They all booked musical acts who would come on and lip-synch to their records.  They also featured dancers, most of whom looked like mannequins. These shows aired for either 30 minutes or one hour.  However, the radio was on 24 hours a day!  That was except for holidays.  Every Christmas and New Year’s, they played only stupid Christmas music!  Radio was everywhere you were!  At supermarkets, car garages, public parks, the beach, and just about any place within earshot.  I did most of my radio listening in the privacy of my bedroom, with the door locked.

There wasn’t much reading material for Rock fans. There were the teenybopper magazines like “16” and “Tiger Beat.”  These consisted mostly of gossip and interviews with the musician of the month, asking such questions as what his favorite color was.  I’d glance through it, flipping pages.  The only redeeming value of these zines was the photographs, most of which were in black and white.  That was the scene in 1965.

I didn’t like all of the music that year.  There was this novelty record called, “The Name Game.” It was an American pop song written and performed by Shirley Ellis, as some rhyme game that creates variations on a person's name.  You could take anybody’s name and make it rhyme.  Here’s an example, using the name “Katie:”

Katie.   Katie.   bo-batie,

Bonana-fanna fo-fatie,

Fee fi mo-matie

Katie!

 It was as an annoying song, especially when my sister sang it!

One thing I can say about the music on A.M. radio was that it had variety!  You could hear all types of music.  Country & Western, Soul, Motown, Folk-Rock, Jazz, Tex-Mex, British Invasion, Pop, and good old Rock & Roll.  There was one country song I remember by Roger Miller.  It was called, “King of the Road.”  Then, I heard my first “answer song,” meaning the music was the same, but the lyrics had been changed.  It was called, “Queen of the House,” by Jody Miller (no relation to Rodger), about the trials and tribulations of being a housewife. There were the double-entendre songs that sounded goofy, and I mean goofy!  Their music sounded as if it was produced by a roller rink organ!  One was called, “The Birds and the Bees,” by Jewel Akens. It’s about this horny guy, reciting the facts of life to his virgin girlfriend.  The music sounded so fibrous and idiotic; you would think the song was about watching clowns at a circus.  This next one was a channel changer.  When I heard the first five notes, I was out of there!  It was called “Yes, I’m Ready,” performed by Barbara Mason.  It was lyrically about a young, inexperienced girl who didn’t know how to make love.  Of course, the man was going to teach her.  Barbara intentionally used a voice inflection that was off-key to sound like she was nervous.  It worked!   For years, this song had no face to me.  I thought some white, nerdy, teenage girl did it.  It turned out it was actually recorded by an attractive, Black R&B singer.  She later had another hit that made a lot more sense, “Baby, I’m Yours.”  I’ll bet her manager put a gun to her head and made her do it!  The song did make it into the Top Ten.

           Recently, I found a list of the top 100 records from 1965.  You know something?  I know 98% of the songs listed!  Every one evokes a memory.

My mom and our neighbors took turns in car-pooling us kids to school.  One morning, we had a sing along in the back seat.  We sang Herman’s Hermits’ “Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter.”  We mimicked their British accents as we sang. In the schoolyard, during lunch period, my classmates broke out in song and sang “The Game of Love” by Wayne Fontana & the Mindbenders.  I sang the bass part.  

           At this time in my life, I was not having a happy childhood.  I was a fat kid with braces.  It was at this time that I started experiencing panic attacks, but didn’t know what they were.  I also had a bad constipation problem, so much so that family and neighbors dreaded me using their toilets!  I was doing very badly in school and suffering very low self-esteem.  My dad verbally abused me and physically hurt me. School bullies would come after me. I was an uncoordinated fat kid who was fearful of the world.  The only thing my dad would say to me was, “Be a man!”  Yeah.  At the age of 11, I was supposed to be Superman!

My transistor radio was the only refuge I had.  Music was my best friend and it consoled me in that extremely difficult time of my life.

So, if I seem sentimental about the music of 1965, it is because I am.  I am currently going through a rough patch in my life, and while I lay in bed at night, I revisit the music of 65.