It was April 1976. Since sunrise on July 5, 1975, the country had been gripped by Bicentennial Madness, a fever so contagious and pervasive I nowadays think of it as COVID-1976.
Everywhere you looked, things were plastered with the faces of dead white guys like George “I’m on the quarter AND the dollar bill” Washington and Ben “FATHER of Our Country if you know what I mean” Franklin.
The most pervasive image was the US flag, Old Glory, the most complicated flag on Earth. Betsy Ross, who sewed one star on the original for each of the 13 American colonies, would have thrown in the towel when faced with 50 of the buggers.
Nevertheless, Americans proudly wore the flag on hats, jackets, socks, and jeans; we were star-spangled right down to our tighty-red-whitey-and-blues.
McClellan High School was not immune to the mania.
It was decided to put on a show for the student body to take place one afternoon at school. It was to feature great American songs from “Yankee Doodle” to the Beatles’ “Let It Be” (proof that geography was not high on the Arkansas educative curriculum).
For some reason, “Afternoon Delight,” a then-popular anthem about impromptu sessions of sexual congress, was not included.
I was tasked with providing a piece for the jazz band to play. Since there was nothing I loved more than the 1940s era music of Glenn Miller (well, nothing that did not involve girls and/or pizza), I chose Miller’s incredible “In the Mood.”
We did not have time to perfect the whole piece, so I created a shorter version with no saxophone solos and no cowbell, which I have always regretted, since, you know, COWBELL!
On Thursday afternoon, April 15, the entire student body gathered in the gym to sit on unyielding wooden bleachers with no air conditioning or refreshments. It was a recipe for Bicentennial fervor, make no mistake!
The lineup included such crowd-pleasers as “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” and “When Johnny Comes Marching Home.” If the students had been octogenarians, I’m sure they would have gobbled it up like lukewarm Cream of Wheat.
The program might have gone down better if folks had tried just a little harder. Keith, the fellow who sang “Clementine,” repeated only the refrain and the first verse five times! Fortunately for him, he was the handsome object of every straight girl’s teenage desire. Otherwise, he might have been hooted from the stage faster than you can recite the preamble to the constitution, which you memorized the day after your eighth grade American History teacher said she would give you an A- if you could recite the damned thing, but you couldn’t and got a B+ instead.
As the assembly continued, the energy in the gym dwindled. It was getting muggy in there with over a thousand students in attendance. Many kids were jonesing for a nap, a nip, or a nicotine hit. They just weren’t feeling the “Afternoon Delight.”
Performances were running longer than expected, and it looked like we would not be finishing up in time. I was drowsing with the jazz band, awaiting our turn, when told to skip ahead and go straight to our piece.
I jumped up, counting off “In the Mood” with a lusty “A-Wun Two Three GO!” The saxophones energetically launched into the swinging arpeggio that starts the piece. Everyone in the crowd hopped up, yelling and clapping as if they had been offered the rest of the day off!
Our band director Mr. Washburn later told me he heard the astonishingly loud noise in his somewhat-distant office, wondering if there had been an accident. You know, such as one owing to a jet liner hitting the cafeteria, or the over-abundance of beans served that day.
Even though I am probably the only one who remembers that glorious moment, it was a highlight of my time at McClellan High. Amazing really, since it involved neither girls nor pizza.
