Reality Sets In

About a week into January of 1970 most of the other students at John Tyler High School started regarding me as more of a threat than a curiosity... It's kind of hard to explain if you weren't around at the time:

You see - back then "true" patriots knew that everyone with long hair was out to destroy America... Yes - hippies were all morally corrupt what with the sex and drugs and protesting the war and blowing up ROTC buildings and all that satanic music. (Just look at Charles Manson)... There was absolutely no doubt that it was all a communist plot... And needless to say - Tyler was full of patriots :-)

Yeah - I guess I could have gotten a haircut and some Levis and everything would have been cool - but I just didn't feel like I should have to... It's not like I was much of a threat... OK - I was not an evangelical Christian like everyone else in town but I wasn't a two-faced hypocrite either :-) But the main issue is that I just didn't have the slightest urge to look and act like everyone else.

You know - I'm trying hard not to be overly judgmental here. After all - I'd had the benefit of spending my entire life surrounded by conflicts and dichotomies, different philosophies, religions, languages and cultures. Critical thought was second nature to me - it was essential for my survival... But that was not the case for most people who grew up in Tyler... It'd be convenient to dismiss them as stupid but I don't think that's fair. They just didn't know any different...

Reality set in during my second week at John Tyler High:
It was before my first class of the day (English) and I was leaning up against the wall at the corner of the indoor "quad" just minding my own business. I happened to be standing right below the outer edge of an upstairs walkway and after a minute some kids at the railing above me started dropping things on my head.
I tried to just ignore it. That had worked at other schools ... but it didn't at John Tyler.
I finally remember asking them "Why am I not allowed to stand here?" And they said "Because we said so!" Well - I didn't move and that's when they started asking every guy who walked past to "beat the sh*t" out of me. I totally thought they were kidding. They weren't...
Finally - one of them pegged me on top the head with a penny. It hit edge first and gave me that sensation of blood in my mouth when there wasn't any... That's when I stepped out into the quad and asked them (in rather choice words) exactly what their malfunction was.
By then a crown had gathered (lots of FFA jackets) and one of them attacked me. He was about 6'4" and at least 50 lbs heavier than me. I didn't stand a chance... He caught me in the face with a solid right and I went down... That's when he proceeded to kick the ever-loving snot out of me with his pointy toed cowboy boots... Luckily, I covered my face (his initial target) with my arm but that left my rib cage exposed so he shifted his attention there...

When the kicking finally stopped I hopped up, said "It's over..." and walked away... You should have seen the look on the guy's face - he was clearly shocked that I wasn't badly hurt.
But I was... The left side of my face was a swollen mess. I couldn't see out of that eye. My upper left arm and mid-section were a solid mass of bruises... Nothing was broken (I don't break easy) but I'd had yet another concussion...
I do recall that a couple of girls in my home room who witnessed the whole thing were incredibly sympathetic and apologetic... It was nice to know that not everyone there was a total a$$hole - even though it felt that way sometimes :-) And here's the punchline:
When I got to class the teacher gave me a lecture about not fighting and threatened to send me to the office... I remember standing there thinking "OMG - are you freaking serious??" :-)

I went through the entire school day all banged up and when I got home mom was ready to go ballistic. I convinced her not to to go to the school - it really wouldn't have accomplished anything.
I skipped the next 3 days and fantasized about getting hold of a rifle and going "hunting"... I wasn't really serious - at least I don't think I was :-) But I came really close to dropping out completely... Going back was one of the hardest things I've ever done.