Classical High School - Classic Myths Yearbook (Worcester, MA)

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CLASS Jerry Morse bequeathes his giant sweater collection To an unknown teacher in Room Five. To Mr. Foley we leave one and a half- Of everything, And to Mrs. Greene, we leave to memorize The following verses before her eyes: By the rude launching pad, chewing her cud, Her tail to April's breeze unfurled, A cow in an Atlas missile stood, To become the first herd shot 'round the world. To Mr. jack Bent, we leave the cow. Gale Thurston, gracious Class V.P., Loyal supporter of the G.O.P.! Bequeathes to Mr. Yoffe threescore buttons Bearing the name and picture of Barry Goldwater, May he rest in peace. A genuine, used only once, plaster-of-Paris leg cast Is left by Sylvia Thamel, the courageous girl with the crutch! And Paula Kotseas, girl without a crutch, Sadly leaves her most valued possession, her prized hairbrush. Michael Backer, Senior Class Treasurer, Leaves with more money than when he came, And Noah, dauntless Noah leaves in mourn- ing Upon the death of Classical's sacred and holy name. WI lContinuedl Paula Bergin and Joel Rosen, Argui editors, Leave an infinite net of rationality, Wlmatever that is. And Charlie Andreson leaves his captain- and presidencies to the Class of '66. Thus we, the Class of 1965, do hereby sign seal, publish, and declare the foregoing in- strument as and for our Last Will and Testament, in our presence and in the pres- ence of each of us, and in the presence of witnesses, in their presence and in the pres- ence of each of them, and as Shakespeare always said, Exeunt omnes, or, We all have to go sometime. Lawrence joseph, Testator The following great humanitarians were given positions as witnesses, because they all have, in one way or another, joined the ranks of the unemployed during the past year: Dean Burch Charles fSonnyj Liston Nguyen Khanh Nikita Khrushchev

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CLASS WILL-1965 LAWRENCE JOSEPH We, the Class of 1965 of Classical High School, of the City and County of Worcester and the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, being in sound health of body, mostly from hiking up and down Salitube's awesome and ancient stairs, and our minds as brilliant as always, and mindful of the uncertainty of graduation, and intending to dispose of all our property of whatsoever kind and nature upon our scheduled departure, do hereby make, publish, and declare this to be our Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking, of course, all former wills or codicils by us at any time made, of which there have been many. The Class of 1965 bequeathes the follow- ing conglomeration of itemized bequests in the form of poor puns, meretriciously syn- thetic metaphors, unmistakably free verse, and obviously forced rhyme: To our Faculty, amidst a shower of tears, We leave, besides the same thanks and ap- preciation Bequeathed by classes for one hundred twenty years, The services of a merchant of photographa- tion To take new pictures of them for Clamif Myths of future years. I To the Faculty also, we leave the junior Class, And to the junior Class, the Faculty, wishing Lots of luck to both. They will surely need it. To Mr. Charbonneau, noble teacher of French, A photo of France's favorite pin-up: Charles DeGaulle, Plus a written guarantee that he is not A famous seventeenth century French author, Who, at age fifty-one, was destined to fall. To-Miss Shaughnessy, mentor of Room Four, We leave a pair of tickets to her favorite movie-Lam' farm, Not to mention auotgraphs of the vaudeville Team of Guidencrantz and gentle Rosen- stern. Or is it Rosencrantz and gentle Guilden- stern? To Mr. Weed, magnanimous teacher of Bi- ology, Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blindworm's sting, Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing. Linda Davidson leaves her memories Of happy days at Chandler junior High, And Room Two leaves to Mr. Brooks A clock which always reads 8:05. To Mr. Koki we leave an of course, or three or six. I5

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CLASS ORATION JAMES LAUR113 AN AGE OF IRONY How much, I wonder, in three years at Classical High School have you learned about the Drupe Fruits . . . I mean in par- ticular the PEACH? I am referring to Pruus Persica, both clingstone and freestone. If you were to engage in picking peaches you might come across that variety . . . big, fat, round, ripe, and fleshy. But upon probing beneath the fuzzy yellow covering, as chance would have it, you might find that this particular drupe had been dropped, leaving its innards badly bruised and blackened, yet you would swear you had picked a real El- berta, a real peach! IRONIC ISN'T IT? The best-looking fruit is not necessarily the best. All is not as it appears. There is, too, a grim irony about the decade of the twentieth century, about this age in which we live. The age is surely one of amazing advancement, yet despite our pro- gress and the outward appearance of pros- perity within the corporate life of America, the inner life of our human family is bruised by a blackening moral and spiritual decay. Certainly our technilogical advancement is startling. NW e look toward new horizons of scientific progress in our attempts to control the heavens yet, at the same time, we falter in our efforts to hold firm the reins of things terrestrial. We toss a 200 million dollar tin can and a few cameras at the moon and the thrilling venture prospers us all. Economic- ally no people has ever known such prosper- ity. Yet, we remain dissatisfied, ill at ease, lacking in confidence, spiritually chilled and hungry. We live in what John Kenneth Galbraith calls the Affluent Society and still remain unsatisfied. Clearly he who said that Man does not live by bread alone was never more correct. Our great task of the future is to synchro- nize our ever-increasing material growth with a moral and spiritual code similarly well advanced. It is not difficult to see our so- ciety, greatly lagging in moral and spiritual effort. We are given evidence: noxious growth of juvenile delinquency, student violence on and off campus, racial strife both North and South, callous indifference to crime as too many find themselves cow- ardly passive witnesses to corruption and even murder, apathy and corruption rampant in public office, and the softness of our generation content to seek no more in life than what is euphemistically called leisure. We are too often reminded that we over- play, over-drink, over-eat, that we are over- entertained, over-sexed and under-exercised. Our new password for life is non-involve- ment. We are content to live in a world of fantasy and cringe at the thought of becom- ing personally involved with anything. Like the bruised peach we seem just to be too thin skinned and much too fat, over ripe and juicy.