New Year's 2007 -T0 BOLDLY GO ...

What is 'time' - a subjective projection on space?

Tick, tick, tick. There is goes!

It's like water through our fingers or rather, through our very being. We are either gifted or cursed, with the magic ability to ingest and evaluate 'LIFE' -consciousness, as it flows right through us. And we mark 'time' in the dance of life. Terry MacHardy (Class '71) & Family

Time - 365 days for our current concept of a 'year' -a circle based upon the revolving earth and return of the seasons. Circles, rings, -actually loops. The cycle goes around and comes around but never back upon itself. It continues onward and outward and we mark the uniquness of the progress, with this system -'time'.

Perhaps the distinguishing factors on our personal voyage -our loops in space, are lessons garnered through 'experience' and the subsequent changes we put into effect, to create new outcomes and changes in spatial 'life' direction.



(Gary Wilkins Class '71)



Do the loops get smaller and pick up speed as we voyage outward from our beginnings? They seemed longer when I was in High School and were characterized by our 'common' activity or 'comm-unity' or 'comm-union'. I wonder what we as a community, have learned collectively?



"All That Rises Must Converge", says one book title...and perhaps we shall converge once again -briefly- to recognize and reflect upon a 'loop in time' through the symbolic process of 're-union'.

So NOW, we, -true time travellers- boldly step into our new year, perhaps recreating our vision of self (or not).

Happy New Year All.
Les McConnell

Christmas

So here we are.

Me writing and you reading.

An interesting process. There is no evaluating of body language when reading, no facial cues. It is straight from my conscioussness to yours. This really is quite intimate. There are no social filters to distract except for language and one's comprehension of meaning and one's continued interest and focus.

Christmas is many things to many people.

We have the traditions, (-'a virgin birth -man of miracles -son of God' -) the garb of 'organized' Christianity, as set forth almost 300 years after the man -Jesus - died; sanitized of the "Jewish-ness" and made palletable for Romans by Constantine when brokering between competing strains of this snowballing 'after-movement'.

And as of late, we have the purely historical focus on the controlled emergence of the Nag Hammadi "Dead Sea Scrolls", 'the Gnostics' (Gnosis =Knowlege in Greek) ranging from the Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Mary to the Gospel of Judas -wherein Judas is actually a hero; these deemed as heracies by the "established" powers of the church back in that time and reinforced to present day in hopes of dispelling any thought of a continuing 'blood line' -"sang-royale" or 'grail', -holy or not .

Where does 'belief' come into it and what of the 'Christ'-mas?

Putting asisde the 'man forged' religion or husk and focussing upon the underlying message delivered by this (Jewish) Galilean of the House of David, perhaps it comes down to His precription - to be 'careful and considerate' in our communication while treating 'others' as ourselves, - from how we talk to our children, our wives, husbands, partners, friends and strangers - in what we say and what we choose to omit; then continue through to how we behave.

If we put into practice the prescritption, it is thought that we have a shot at integrating our projected (outer) 'child/ego/personality-mask' with our own dormant (inner) 'god' and achieving a higher level of existence (heaven). And one can perhaps achieve this with the help of an organization "Church", priest, teacher (or not).

Words are containers of messages. Our body language and facial gesture create the spin. Ours is a tricky existence. We shift moods, as we might shift gears when driving - almost without thought. We ought to be careful and conscious of inner choice -think before we speak or act.

Perhaps the underlying lesson in "Chrstmas" is more about consciousness; knowing when to implement choice - of "not speaking" or "not doing" - to achieve 'stillness', about striving to attain the ability of cutting through emotional ego-distraction and hugging one's partner, child or friend at the most difficult and vulnerable of times. Would this be the beginning of true 'giving' or "for-giving" and perhaps "real" convergence with a higher existence?

Good luck to us all in the quest given each of us in this life and - yes- Merry Christmas to my old and re-newed friends.

Remember to see each day -as your first and last. This will put a memorable spin on the gifts given and received.

Be well.
Peace be with you -/Shalom aleichem-/Salaam aleikum

Les McConnell.

Louise Lacey - Always hip and without a doubt, always cool.

Louise is one of the key people working with Bob and Gaby Houston, Cindy Houston and Scott Jones along with many other fine people at the company 'A.D. Display' in Chateauguay's Industrial Park.

I was at their Christmas party the other night and was pleased to watch Louise perform with the singer who was hired for the occasion. She has grit, gumption and courage and has brought up a lovely family with her husband Ken. (Schillgalies- Class of 68, I wonder if Mr.Plewinsky remembers how to pronounce his name?).They enjoy canoeing in the summer.

These are two good people.

Old Friends

Can there be anything in this life of greater value?


These old friends are (left) Richard Rankin and (right) Barry Stephens.

Perhaps they do not look quite the same nowadays, but in our collective hearts, they shall never change -two exceptionally bright and most pleasant souls.

Meanwhile, I went to the mall today; that which we used to refer to as "the shopping centre". I had only intended on dropping my client Christmas cards into the mail at the drug store. But then I got to thinking about getting some cards from the art store for my high net worth clients. So I meandered up the mall towards where Zellers used to be- it's now Harts'. I passed by what used to be Radio Shack but is now 'The Source'. No luck. I did not care for the artsy cards at all.

But on the way back two heads appeared over a plie of stacked fruit cake boxes. Mr.Mullahoo! My grade 7 teacher from 1967. "The Man". The lagoon swimmer! One of my all time favorites now retired ( my daughter won an award named after this man) is with the Lions Club! So he has gone on to another level of service. He really is so cool.

You can read about him a bit further in the entry from May 18 or 19 Titled Look Deep into The Past. So- I bought a fruit cake for Christmas.

Saturday Pre Christmas
(Pictures below Rose Mancuso/ Mike Glezos/ Ron Enros -from year books)

Well as you can tell by my blog activity lately, my time is taken up by other things - nailing down pricing on hotel etc, business, the markets
and of course the "bah-humbug" season of spending money -Joy to the Wallet. I feel like I'm being dragged kicking and screaming into the Holiday Spirit.

I become more prickly with age, I think. I mean I'm just getting over the summer for heaven's sake. Christmas music was blaring in the stores the day before Holloween! AHHH!

Yesterday was interesting.
While waiting for Jane to emerge from Indigo downtown, I bumped into Mike Glezos (Grad '72) and Betty - his lovely wife. They had just been to a movie. He's a tech manager with CGI -good company!

Three hours later in Chateauguay, IGA grocery shopping, I bumped into Ron Enros (Grad '70) and caught up on his business. Wow! I never thought E-Bay could be so intensive! It's been a two summers since he was last in my back yard in the gazebo playing guitar with me and Jimmy Williams.

And then - yes - I forgot the margerine! Had to go back to IGA.
And there she was - my old friend Rose Mancuso Bariel (Grad '73) who now works for the School Board. "Just couldn't get enough eh, Rose"!

So now it is 12:35 PM Sunday afternoon, I am writing, as I sit in my pyjamas and I want to be in Westmount in an hour to see and hear my Folk Singer (sister) Glenna McConnell playing as a guest to a Christmas choir. Better get a move on. You should check out Glenna's web site and hear her - she's great! She writes all her own material. Great Album! I love it. (http://www.glennamcconnell.com ).

Eileen Now and then.

Above: with her husband Allan, who wears the black T-shirt.

Left: Eileen in Gold and Allan in centre.


Over on the right we have some photos from the past with a number of familiar faces. Can you spot the ones you know? Hey! There's Gary Colthorpe with ...

1970


Howard S. Billings underscores it's crest with the -Latin Words 'Carpe Diem' - Seize the Day.

Reinforcing these words are three elements -Tradition, Pride and Achievement.

High School, like life, is made up of moments and individuals; some good, some bad, but some that are just down right great. These moments and the people who make them are remembered for good reason.

They come together like living points of light, through the combination of time spent, dedication through practice and having fun, to achieve not just a 'winning team', but something more important -spirit.

The team concept, became the binder that held many of us in a certain 'sameness'. If the team did well -we all did well. Our teams were our examples. The people on the teams were representatives of a higher order in all disciplines. They became examples of what could be, through the setting of goals, fairplay and going out 'and just doing it'.

What they could achieve on the ice, just perhaps, we could use to inspire ourselves in areas of our own perfection and most important, as people.

The 1970 Senior Hockey Team, was composed of some very special human beings.

Their coach was one of Billing's greatest mentors - Mr. Rossiter.

Some of the players -Grant Wilson - a modest and determined athlete, Barry Kaye, Barry Oliver and Norman Leroux -fine team players who could inspire more with their sense of teamwork and quick smiles than any shout from the bench. Danny White, John Lahache and Brian Roy brought determination and power to bear.

While those on the ice -indeed, had a job to do, so too, did those behind the scenes. One of the finest people Howard S. Billings had - on the ice, at the bench, at a dance or simply walking down the hall - always ready to greet in sincerity, was someone many of us truly admired and respected -MR.Ed Quinn.

This team had the magic.

Part of the Danger and the Magic
of Chateauguay.

Stephan Fuchs

I recall when Stephan was much younger, his getting on the bus to go to school.

It was a time I was considered older and maybe even wiser by his age group at Billings. (I like to delude myself from time to time.) Stephan is now older and wiser. He is known for his prowess in the courtroom, going after some fairly big shots, who have had their way with the "regular people".

A lawyer's life is not easy, especially if one is in court much of the time. One has to prepare and keep one's eye on the detail and on what the opposing attorney has not done. Lawyers take the 'butt' of many a joke. It is when you get a good lawyer, that you thank goodness and get on with your life.

Like Lawyers or not - I am told by those who have paid for his services, that he is great to have on your side in the court room. We have to remember that lawyers are human beings, make mistakes, are fallible and are born with their own demons to wrestle with and then they have to take ours on too.

Here he is having lunch with me today at Rigoletto's, perhaps Chateauguay's best Italian Restaurant, near the green bridge leading to West End at 68 Salaberry where, for a change,he is "the client". Stephan graduated after '72 and I will be very pleased to see him at the reunion as a 'friend of 72' .

The Man With The Heart of Gold

Mr. Roddy McManus.

I am truly very lucky to have Roddy as a friend. We have known each other since summer days in the sand box and his beautiful green tricycle when we were kids.

He is very talented - a Producer no less, with a Quebec media firm; always 'on the go', putting together TV or Film deals sometimes pitching to CBC or others, sometimes writing.

It just kills me when I receive a call from him and I say - "So Roddy - what's new?"
And he'll respond .. "I just finished talking up a deal here in Cannes at the Film festival. I'm on a balcony overlooking the Mediterannean, the beach and -Wow!- you should see the bathing suit on th..."
"Gee , thanks Rod."

He is self effacing, gentle and knows how to make people feel good about themselves without 'slapping it on with a trowel'. His lovely and intelligent 'better half' - Roslyn (Happy Birthday Ros!) has been known to work in some very unique circles putting togther 'fashion shoots'. (you would never believe who -even if I told you).

Roddy is still remembered for his abilities on the key boards with various bands (The Angry Young Ducks). And he still hangs out with Ricky Rice form time to time.

Roddy is very talented. He can quickly visualize the power and potiential of an idea or an angle. His mind is sharp and his heart is kind. He always has been and is still, a "good" man.

The Journey Begins

The Journey Begins
After considering the impact my first encounter with Jimmy Williams, I concluded that there are times in our lives punctuated by moments of internal drama that herald the way to who we will become.

Darkness, loud music and flashing lights, the dance, beer breath, cigarettes, beautiful young women, my lack of inhibition to flail about and call it ‘dancing’ – to the ‘15 year old mind’ present fragmented images of what success might be. ‘Behavior personas’ tried on as a child models adult shoes and hats in the mirror- characterized that evening for me.

How fragile and tentative the kaleidescopic fabric of reality!

My fantasy for that evening crystallized for a moment, suspended, until the spell gave way to a higher power. In one decisive moment a young man jumped off a stage –a shooting star shearing through my new universe. Orbiting heavenly bodies veered within the sway of a new magnetic field, my vision eclipsed by the brilliance of a bright new star.

I watched the beguiling Motown moves, determined to learn.

He was a stranger in a strange little town with the attention of all, friendly and -the not so friendly, in need of an ambassador or guide in our world, just as I needed one in his. He would be my cultural guide to the ‘world of cool’.

I telephoned home. A new friend from school would be sleeping over that night.

Perhaps I had discovered that which I had never had, –a brother?

What was to unfold during the next two to three years would change my trajectory- forever.

Some very special people from our collective past :

Catherine (Wylie) and Ernie Laporte

I remember when I was not quite in my teens, there was this self possesed and magical young lady with poise and grace walking through the development where I lived. I had a profound realization that day that ball hockey with "the guys" was not quite all there was in life.

Later in High school there was a young man who was handsome, carried himself with a sense of purpose and charm. He was an athlete and all round good person -someone whose character would not be bad to imitate.

In my teens I could not have ever said such things out loud. But looking back and at this picture
I know two good people when I see them.
There are others - John Dempster, Dave and Annette Maclean, Judy and Frank Deere , Richard Rankin, Lynda Young, Debbie Hanney, Gervase Bushe, Colleen Hillock, Michael Sarrey, Gerald Finlay, Cathy Gulkin, Dave and Steve Porier, Bob and Gaby Houston, Barb and Dan Zimmerman and many more.

What is a reunion?

What is a reunion?
By Richard Rankin

(Pictures: L:Bruce Craig C: Gerald Finlay R: Vincent Murphy)

Is it a union formed anew after separation? Is it to reunite again?

I don't think of it in those terms.

None of us consciously separated. We all walked out into the world and continued on with our individual lives after high school. Some remained in contact with others.

I do not place any real importance or significance in that. Why?
Because our individual memories will immediately overcome any obstacle that one might assume would be inherent due to the pasage of time.

You walked out of the room to answer the door bell and when you walked back in you picked up the conversation right where it left off.

Look at the pictures that have been posted on the blog. The thirty five years since graduation are a mere construct.

Reunion? No. This is a social gathering - an assembly of familiar friends. Nothing more and nothing less.

Walk back into the room and rejoin the conversation.

Trick or Treat!

You've heard of 'Find Waldo'? Well find Tommy Lauder .... back in the day.

(Thanks to Linda Porter for the picture.
Was this up in the orchard?
(1970-71?)

On a Dime a Pivot Po

On a Dime, a Pivot Point in Time

My life turned on a dime- as my very first bottle of beer was handed to me; a time before cans. There behind Massey Drive we stood gathered in communion under the crisp chill moon, surrounded by woods and landfill mounds covered in grass, rock and moss, the ideal spot to start out before a dance.

Steve, Robert, Andy -with his thick glasses and a cowlick over one eye, Freddie –in a proper sports jacket and tie. (He blamed his parents.) We all had hair over our callars like the Beatles, Dave Clark Five, Animals or Monkees - but Freddy had a Johnny Carson cut – ah, but he was OK.

Debbie with the blue eyes and infectious giggle was there – (she only lived up the street), Connie with the flashing eyes and button nose, and Ross – was too. Now there was a guy who could dance up a storm. There were very few of us males who could or would, while most other guys hung out along the wall- but I’m getting ahead of myself.

It was early November, dark and cold. Our smoke and breath hung on the dank chill with the field mist. A lot of good the cold beer was for me. As it was, I hated the stuff and could barely handle cigarettes – ah, but it was for good cause right? I took a mouthful trying to swallow, but my body wasn’t standing for it. I silently retched, turning off the path and into the thicket. I gratefully spat. Taking another swig I gargled while pouring half the bottle out. Sheepishly, I made my way back. “What a fraud!” I thought, boldly reaching out for another. Ah- grade eight. I guess I had finally made it.

Trying to think of something clever to say, I was saved by a new set of voices – more girls! I heard chatter and laughter. Debbie (Giggles) greeted them. Debbie, Donna, Bonnie and Linda. Wo! They all looked great! But, what were they doing here? Better yet? Had I died and gone to heaven? How did I end up in this lucky position? I wonder if they had even seen me with a beer? I had already ditched the second bottle. Would I have looked different or better in their eyes or just stupid?

The gang began to make it's way over towards Maplewood Church. Thank god – I could warm up a bit. My feet felt like cold tinned fish and I was trying to control the chatter of my teeth. Oh great! What a ‘man’! (I could just hear my mother's parting words as I left the house earlier - "Wear a tuque, it's cold out!" It was still in my jacket pocket. But -hey! I was cool. Right.

It was fascinating to watch the maneuvering as we sauntered up Mcleod. It was musical chairs, but with people, as we vied to link up with a partner. Of course we might have simply been walking up the hill, but not in my teenaged mind. Wouldn’t it be cool to spend the dance evening with-who? I had not raelly thought that far.

Debbie (Giggles) was my buddy, but I think she may have wanted to be more than that. I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew she was my pal and that was how I liked it.

Debbie and Donna were on either side of me. How could they? I mean this was me! Could they not see? I was nobody. Surely they would be more interested in older guys. Boy! Were they ever nice to talk to me –they were so relaxed, as if they had known me forever! And Debbie- God- she was the spitting image of Haley Mills! I fought internally over every word I issued, fearing that one of my feet would slip solidly in my mouth.

I mean- I could try, but it was hopeless. Everyone would be after her. I had never in my wildest dreams thought that she would ever talk to me! Did I really existed to these people! Wow! That in itself had made the night. This gave me a new sense of confidence. I could feel it. And then there was Bonnie, Donna’s sister. Were they fraternal (but not identical) twins or something? Both so beautiful, each in their own way.

Just ahead were Freddie and Linda. He turned his head, looked at me and then at her and said something. She turned and looked at me too. The moonlight played in her smile, dimples, the laugh, the walk-prance. Bam -gorgeous!

I don’t know how I made my way up Mcleod.
I don’t remember what became of the others.
All I know is that I found myself in the Friday night Willibrord School dance with HER on my arm.

I do remember dancing in a circle and not being afraid.

My mom, my sisters and I used to dance in the kitchen when doing the dishes –and mom loved to dance. We would turn up the radio and let loose. I had ‘one-up’ on most guys my age (15-16) since they would not dance -at the dance.

But there was a new 'step' out now and people were no longer required to hold hands, twirl or swing. Thankfully mom had taught me one of those - (step to side, one back , one forward) – which enabled me to learn quite quickly some of the line dance steps that evening.

Tonight though was somehow was different to other dances. I could feel it. We had new people this year from other schools outside our district and then there were those whose parents had just moved to Chateauguay from the city recently. The mix was just not what I had expected.

Hopeton and Ross could Dance – especially Hopeton,-from the city – where they probably danced all the time, I figured.

I could see Hopeton looking at HER. Something tugged internally, something I only usually felt in Hockey –competition. I danced harder, reaching out using more of the jitter bug approach.

The music stopped half way through 'Green Tamborine', lights went off and bang! A live band erupted on stage. What the hell was it? How could we even dance to it? They were black and had exploding curly hair, played horns and would not stand still! The Beatles would surely never stand for this! I mean four guys were to be up there singing in harmony. (No?) My little world and culture suddenly got bigger.

What was this? What a beat! Brass and horns! We all stood, mesmerized. The shock of "new" was wearing off as we found ourselves 'alive' and not just entertained.

And then it happened. The singer looked over to the side wall, near the entrance – pointed to someone and motioned to come up on stage! Who was that? What the hell was he wearing?

It looked like orange curtains made into pants- but not straight legged or flair bottoms- no no, these where wide bottoms with sewn inserts on the sides while maintaining a skin tight rear end. He wore white shoes-and it wasn't summer and they were not sneakers. His hair was fluffed up rather than traditional tight curls. His matching orange shirt had a high collar. He later said, “I’m not black, I’m Moka brown!”

Could he MOVE! There he was, up on stage as if it was nothing- twirling and bobbing, knees likes pistons, right to the beat . He knew all the words to the song being sung.

“Bah bah bah bah bahhhh” the horns punched- “I feel good y’all… like I knew that I should y’all…, I feel riiiight…” and he sprang off the stage into the crowd and continued his Watusi like gyrations. One of the stage hands shone a spot light on him and a circle formed.

She was drawn magnetically forward with everyone, while I stayed my ground, like driftwood on the shore as the wave recedes back into the sea.

She joined the the magic circle- mostly girls, to check out the wonder kid.

I glanced over at Hopeton. He too, appraised the situation and had a curious look I had never seen before in class. And Ross, well, he had joined the circle too.

This guy was a indeed a wonder to behold. Jimmy.
My modest teenaged life’s direction, had just turned, once again, on a dime.

Have a good weekend people.

A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked,

"How heavy is this glass of water?"

Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g.

The lecturer replied, "The absolute weight doesn't matter.

It depends on how long you try to hold it.

If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem.

If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my right arm.

If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance.

In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes."

He continued, And that's the way it is with stress management.

If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won't be able to carry on. "

As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again.

When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden."

"So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down. Don't carry it home. You can pick it up tomorrow.
Whatever burdens you're carrying now, let them down for a moment if you can."

So, my friend, why not take a while to just simply RELAX.

Put down anything that may be a burden to you right now.

Don't pick it up again until after you've rested a while.

Life is short. Enjoy it!

Here are some great ways of dealing with the burdens of life:

* Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue.

* Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.

* Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.

* Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be recalled by their maker.

* If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.

* If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it

* It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.

* Never buy a car you can't push.

* Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you won't have a leg to stand on.

* Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.

* The second mouse gets the cheese.

* When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

* Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live.

* You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the world to one person.

* Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.

* We could learn a lot from crayons...

Some are sharp, some are pretty and some are dull. Some have weird names, and all are different colors, but they all have to live in the same box.

*A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.

Have an awesome day and know that someone has thought about you today......I did.>

MR.MUSIC PLEASE...



Reunion Music:

Keep in mind that on the Saturday afternoon /night of our event in May 2007, we will be having a modest reception beginning at 5:00 PM and dinner for around 6:30/7:00 PM.

John Saunders and perhaps a second person to Host/MC the event.

We do not want music to drown conversation since the whole idea of Reunion is to see and communicate with as many of those we have not seen in 35 years. But we do want dancing, and music. So we will have an area nearby to escape to for chatting.

Now- at this juncture we have eliminated the Bonaventure Hotel due to cost and more to the point, they have eliminated us, since they had an offer from a convention for 150 rooms pre booked but it required the ball room we might have used.

Lynda Young Chapleau and I have been in discussions with various alternate locations and are now close to finalizing potentially with the Hilton Dorval where qulity is high and prices far more acceptable. The location is great since the Airport is a few blocks away, as well as the Rail and bus points. The parking is free if you are attending the event -unlike Bonaventure hwich was pretty steep per day.

Also, for those who wish to reserve a room there over night Friday, Saturday and or/Sunday, the price is $99 per night which will not be included in the cost of the Reunion ticket. So you are not required to stay over night at the hotel, but if you do wish to reserve and or do your budget calculations, you now have the cost.

We are still looking at other locations as alternatives, but this one looks like the best (so far) for our needs. The final decision will be announced in two weeks. Either way, the Hilton Dorval will hold a certain number of rooms just in case anyof you wish to think about it for the next few months.
I will report more as we continue on.

MUSIC:
Rod McManus, Mark Stafford and I met to discuss this entertainment.

We have a sketchy format now that involves a DJ to play music, but also we are looking at the possibility of having a place in the ball rooom where equipment such as drums, guitars, amps etc. will be set up, so that those who are inclined to jam, or wish to perform a song or two, may do so. DJ would play a while, then time spots open for our musical friends.

If you know, or remember any one of our old friends who used to "perform" in those years or has done so since then and might wish to do so at the Reunion, please encourage them to contact me. If you think they might wish to be involved in doing a "number" by themselves or with others on this magic night, I seriously doubt if they will have the opportuniy to play in front of all their old friends like this again.

Now your task is to send me a list of songs you think our DJ should have going -during dinner (subdued), during the reception before hand (less subdued?) and after dinner, music that captures the times of highschool.

Send your suggestions to Les McConnell at e-mail # mcconnell.leslie@videotron.ca.

Thank you.

Before HS Billings there was Chateauguay High...but before that...


This is a reversed image. So you are looking from up Macleod down towards Maple - before there was a "Maple" it seems. Thanks to Lynda Young Chapleau.

Looking Back, Looking Up and Looking Outward.

In the year 1967/68, I entered grade 7.

The class pictures presented here (some terribly over-exposed with darness) are but some, containing students we looked up to; the demi-gods roaming the halls on high, - (grade 10).

(Click on these for a closer look.At the time they seemed so grown up to my grade 7 mind -still do perhaps!)

This was a new world, a foreign culture of ever changing rules, new inner yearnings, desires, academic goals and plenty of distraction.

Chateauguay High took on a new name. Funny how that happens in life. I looked forward to Chateauguay High.
Who was Howard S. Billings anyway? (Ah ! Maybe next entry.)

We looked up to new and more grown up role models who projected conflicting yet magnetic unspoken codes. These were imbedded in their 'look' and demeanor of sophistication and experiential knowledge. And sometimes, revelation occured through the direct passing on of puzzling information! I recall Ingrid J------ explaining the strange and perplexing uses of some our body parts. This process was supposed to be fun? Another time on the school bus going home Gaham R----- explained in more detail what one could do on one's own if one was so inclined to such experimentation. Eurika!

The learning we were to take on transcended boundaries contained in bold type between two covers. The High School world had invisible class rooms that were outside and inside our walls of perception.

You were either 'in' or 'out', you either 'got it' or not.

Lessons were constantly learned -malicious lessons, angelic lessons, lessons of love, admiration, attraction, hatred, fierce competition, lessons of passion, lessons of authority and not simply that of teachers or administration. There was a very sly guerilla war going on at this level -inside and out, in school and at home. We were changelings, taking off the 'home' persona which we left by the door, to be picked up when we got home again, but the fit was never quite the same.

I suspect there are only a few 'old souls' contained in young bodies, on their reincarnated second go-round, who are truly ready to appreciate the activity of study, contemplation and the aquisition of knowledge at that age.

How many teachers were (or are) gifted with the ability to cut through the invisible masks we were trying on. Who had the talent to awaken neophytes to the higher calling?

How many teachers could set aside their own fragile home lives and personal inner angst to ignite the hunger for wisdom dormant within us? Some were capable indeed. Many were not. Many had to simply be content to don the role of referee. The punishment they would take from many of us- incredible! Many of our teachers grew old very quickly and they were not paid their due by a long shot. If our parents only knew...

And yet- here we are today. Wiser?

I should think so! The learning we did was primarily on the playing field of "social order" and "human dynamic" and secondarily in the arts of learning to learn.

The subtleties as well as the outright harshness of some of our experiences are still indelibly tatooed onto and within our collective psyche.

And yet through the kaleidescope of those five years -in and out of love and misery, detentions, soccor matches, hockey, football, basketball, fist fights, awakening sexuality, ski trips, substance experimentation -from the nectar of the gods to the wafting smoke of Alice's catepillar and beyond- here we are.

But understand this. We were not empty vessels waiting to be filled when we entered therein. We were already imbued with our characters, biases, cleverness and perhaps the lack thereof, in short, - we had an inherent nature of our own.

High School may have molded it to some degree, but only to the extent to where we were deemed by others, to be ready for a world that moved in it's own time and rhythm.

The question was, 'could we hit the pavement running' and discern the beat of that rhythm?
Are we even now able to descern the 'rhyme' or 'reason' of our external worlds coproate, political or social?

Some of us yes. Others no.
Some of us now set the beat while others do the dance.

So- What have we done with ourselves since then -in this, "The Real World"?
Have we changed since high school?

Have we gone over to the 'dark side' of all that we rebelled against?
Could it be that what we thought to be rebellion-was actually the process of "breaking on through to the other side" of our quite natural existence?

Speaking of which, it's time for all good boys and girls to go to sleep now.
Night Night sweet children.
And Peter Pan where ever you are...here I come! Look out Wendy!