Karen Clemente:  

Life After 30 years (can you believe that!!??) of traveling, raising kids, and working harder than hardly working, I've finally found the joy of my life. We live in Utah and are very happy. I write books and he writes music. We jam together a lot (I play bass guitar, he plays everything else). We're looking forward to our daughter, Michelle, visiting from New Jersey because she and her husband, Patrick, play bass/guitar (respectively) and we can't wait to all jam together! We're greatful that our son, Michael, his wife, Casey and their son Dylan, have moved back to Utah because we really missed them while in California. School High school was kind of weird for me. Everyone knew me in 7th and 8th grade, then I went away to Ireland. When I came back in 10th grade, everyone had moved on and I had to start over fresh; new friends, etc, especially since my best friend from Granada, April Crates, had moved to Missouri. I just put all my effort into studying. I never dated anyone from MV. The several proms I went to were with a guy, Patrick, from Excelsior over in Norwalk. (His wife and I took our kids to Hawaii together a few years ago, so we're all still friends!) I really did enjoy the proms. I usually doubled with Debbie Riche and Mark Murphy and we always had a lot of fun. I remember the Volley Ball -athons. Volley Ball all night and the song that went with it, "How long will this be goin' on?" I remember being in drill team. We did our parade at the Pomona Fair. That was the only parade I ever got to be in because I got in a car wreck right after that. I always really enjoyed drill team. I often tell my daughter she looks like Rita Meo. My favorite teachers were Misters #1 Gary Curtis!!!, Prantalos, Fairchild, Manuel, Hendricks (who always called me the Mick), and well, I don't recollect ever having any favorite female teachers. I think the absolute worst teacher I ever had was Mr. Nolan. He tried to teach math, but it was too darn boring for me. I remember once in Mr. Manuel's shorthand class when we were all supposed to be listening to a tape and writing out what the boring guy was saying. Mr. Manuel was talking to me from the front of the class. I, being in the back of the class, couldn't hear him. A girl (she was a year or 2 ahead of me and her name escapes me now) pulled out the earphone of my tape recorder. Donny Osmond's "Puppy Love" was not a requisite of that c...Expand for more