Kurt Anderson:  

Revised 04/10/09: My true story, approaching perfection....... Kurt Anderson - Starving Writer (version 2! Google>Blog Search>Uncensored Classmates story) Don't forget to check out the upcoming book of my strange and amazing memories of between 1960 - 1990, "Yard Work". There would be nothing to mark our generation, no age of prosperity, like the early baby boomers, no great war, like our grandparents. We wouldn't get the chance to be heroes. There was no Vietnam or Woodstock, Charlie Manson, or campus protest. We were the younger brothers and sisters, the "tag-alongs"...... A lot of my classmates smoked "weed", but I wasn't sure why. The peace signs were gone. Rampant drug use in America was one of the many echoes of our long, drawn-out war in Southeast Asia. The "Boomers" ahead of us would soak up all the jobs and cash, and set the tone, well before we showed up. We were involved in a more subtle kind of war, one with no body bags. The corporate culture was being born, especially that of the "pharmaceutical drug cartel". Their huge marketing campaign push of the birth control pill had begun. Corporate had finally perfected "the pill", after the horrible Thalidomide pill failures in the early '60s. (Google that, it's fascinating.) Their mantra was that the "World is over-populated. Save the world, blah, blah, blah.....", and the masses fell for it. The world was empty then, compared to now. If we didn't breed, the third world certainly made up for it in later years. If another thing did make our generation stand out, it was the effect of divorce. Many of us were scarred in new ways. Never before had so many parents casually quit the family unit. Maybe they watched too many Elvis movies in the 50's. The hip-shake was too much for 'em. We didn't die in a war, but part of us died when our parents split up. I was a child of divorce. I think children who grow up in dysfunctional families have trouble making close friends because they grow resentful of children from "normal" families. I know I certainly found it spectacularly unfair that most of my friends did not have to deal with a stepfather, or simply could do what they wanted without their parents sabotaging everything they did. These events actually happened. The names have been shortened to protect the guilty: Phoenixville High: Great wrestling coach, Lonny Moore. A+ Role model! Teachers, good, but mean spirited. Eagles fans, you know? They were already jaded by the dope-smokin', hippie baby boomer generations before us. By the time we showed up, the teachers had hair-trigger tempers. Favorite teacher, Mr. Aurand, Biology. He got my stupid humor, which actually takes intelligence, I have learned. Socially, I was inept, to put it lightly. Awkward is a good word. Shy-boy. Most embarrassing moment, first attempt at stand-up comedy, in front of the entire 9th grade English class, "suicide bit"; not funny, dead-silence. My first lesson in public speaking. Highlight-Homecoming Court w/K.Scott. Ridiculously gorgeous, and I said about 5 words all night. Enjoyed innocent "dating" with Kathy H., Betsy B., and Sherri M. Clueless about girls, lucky for them. Linda P., Summer of '77 is ours in eternity. "Rumors" was your favorite album. I do miss you sometimes. 1978: Sectional Wrestling Champion-I should have done better than this, but my talents were badly managed, and I had a poor attitude. Plus, I lived too far from the high school practice room. Unfortunately, the emphasis was on making weight, more than the technical aspects of wrestling. Senior Prom, drank too much. Sorry Monica B! She had to drive. Some of the stupid things I did, I have to cringe. High School ends, thank God. Grad party, 2 beers, made out with class valedictorian. There was only one in those days. Discovered the magic of moderate alcohol consumption. Invited to three different proms at three different schools, went to two. Summer, '78. Dianne M. Should have married this one. This would be one of many fine and qualified wife-candidates I would let slip away before I was 21. After high school, Avalon Beach Patrol, great experience, spoiled me for mortal women! Heard about the 72 virgins? This was close. Summer #2, Started a Moped rental business, also in Avalon. Should have stuck with this great opportunity. College was the end-all in those days, and we were really pushed into it, I think, because our parents had grown up in a time when the college degree really did count for a lot. So I went and sold my moped and bike rental business, which put about $800 a week into my bank account in cash during peak season, to run off to college. I would never recover, financially, from this move. Received three college scholarship offers, including one from Drexel U. for wrestling; went to Elizabethtown College instead (1978-81), due to "fear of dieting". By blowing off the scholarship money, I, in effect, caused all that work in high school wrestling to be a waste of time. I was amazed that I got into college. I was still in shock that I actually graduated high school while living on the one-meal a week wrestling program. I am sure this stunted my growth. All I could think about was food #1, and girls #2. Accounting and Math class ranked about #55 and 56 on the list of priorities. E-Town College: Had fun wrestling for this small, laid back program. It was a step above intramural sports, because there was no scholarship money allowed, so it was casual and fun, and I did not have to drop a lot of weight. Recently inducted into the Elizabethtown College Hall Of Fame for wrestling (2006). If I could reverse time back to any one point, it would be the to the two years I spent here. Simply awesome. Dear Don C., still laughing about the rat-in the phone booth trick. We hung a big, dead rat in the phone booth in the girl's dormitory, then called that number until some poor girl answered. See copy of resulting reprimand letter in pictures section. Dear Coach Ken, sorry I lost my temper at Gettysburg that one time. I still have a bad temper, but I channel it in productive ways. Coach Ken was a super-nice guy, but he ate sandwiches during wrestling practice, which kind of irked me after going through the Lonny Moore - years. Dear Diane W., Enjoyed our little "thing", whatever it was. I think she was placed here as some sort of medieval torture device to punish me for something I had not yet done. Diane, you're forever frozen in 1980. I miss you, but then...I don't. What an incredible year regardless, 20 years old, All American wrestler. Parents moved, 1980 while I was away at college! This really bummed me out. This meant that when I graduated college, I had nowhere to go home to. No matter where I've lived since, I have always felt restless, like I didn't quite belong, like I needed to go home. Now I know how the Indians feel. 1980: Wrestling; Conference Champ, 6th place-small school nationals, Team Conference Champs. Again, this was an under-achievement for me, and I was disappointed with my performance. Wrestling career synopsis: a letdown. Got restless after my year 3 at E-town, injury riddled season, poor grades, Three Mile Island leak creeped me out. 3/28/79 "America's Worst Nuclear Accident". Hesitantly, transferred to WVU to get a taste of big-time college wrestling, for one season. M. Cagle was wrestling there, and he put in a good word with the coach. Division 1? Nobody told me there were divisions! Finally, a little cash money. West Virginia University: 1982-83, excited, if only to be anonymous on campus. Wrestling for one season. We started the "Barbarian Fest" annual mountain party. This was an outdoor beer and barbecue party, with mud-wrestling. I wonder if they still have this? 1983: WVU Wrestling, first team, 158 lbs, scholarship (finally!!), Co-captain. Couldn't seem to beat PA state champ Thad Turner in the wrestling room-my nemesis. Met my first fiancee', Yvette S., here at WVU. Poverty after college graduation kept me from marrying this one, but she wasn't the one anyway. 2023: A combination of bad career advice, always practicing safe sex, and being really bad at actually getting laid after age 30 probably have ensured that I will probably leave behind no heirs for my approximately two million dollars in real estate holdings, which will revert back to my stepfather's charity when I finally pass away. That's how my will is worded anyway because I don't want some space cadet or crooked lawyer to get all my stuff. 1983-90: After college graduation, If I had gone back to my lawn mowing and moped rental businesses from my high school days, I think everything would have been okay, but I attempted to get a job in corporate America; career mistake #1. One thing they do not teach you in college: Corporate America is one huge butt-kissing contest, and I thought it was about hard work and dedication. I was about to get killed. Color blindness got me DQ'd from the Navy flight program in '86, assuring me that I would never get into the police or the military. It was probably a blessing, looking back...... Back to '83: Alright, there are no jobs, so I went to work for Dad's new company. He was not much of a teacher, unfortunately. He gave me a variety of paper-shuffling assignments to keep me busy. Looking back, I didn't know it at the time, but Dad had no interest in seeing me do anything, ever. This company was a start-up, and wages were frustratingly low-below poverty level and stayed as such. I would get stuck here for seven years. Picture the set of "The Office", except with less cash. My mother was so clueless. "How come you're not married yet, Kurt?" I dunno Mom, maybe because of the crushing poverty? That was pretty much the scenario, except that everyone thought I was highly paid, being the boss's son, so I was treated like Hunter Biden or something. Marvelous. I finally left the company at age 30, after m...Expand for more