Pool Party
December 10, 2010, 4:00pm, PST
Location: William Friedman’s residence on a warm L.A. afternoon. The occasion is an informal meeting of the New Ridgemont High department heads: Bobbie Novak (science); Jules Longo (foreign language); John Jameson (English); Patricia Stark (mathematics); Stephen Fortunato (social studies); and Kenneth Cameron (computer science). Sal Levy is also in attendance. The meeting is taking place around Friedman’s pool.
Will: Does everyone have drinks?
Sal: Check.
Will: Ashtrays are on the side tables, for anyone who wants to smoke. Let’s get started.
Steve: [Lighting a cigarette and reclining in his chaise lounge, happily] I could get used to meetings like this.
Pat: Yes, thank you for opening your home to us, Will.
Will: It’s my pleasure. I prefer to do business as informally as possible.
Steve: [Holding up his drink] A fine policy!
Pat: So, do you want us to actually read our reports?
Will: No, put those through to my secretary. I just want to chat; hear your impressions of the semester.
Pat: Sounds good.
Will: So, how’d we do our first term?
John: Do you really need us to tell you? You’ve seen the numbers.
Will: The numbers only tell part of the story and at a pretty fair level of abstraction. I am interested in how things are going in the classroom; your personal observations of the students and their development; whether the curriculum is working; that sort of thing.
Bobbie: The students are absolutely fantastic, Will.
Jules: Hear! Hear!
Ken: A little too fantastic.
Will: What do you mean?
Ken: Oh, nothing really. I just wonder how qualified I am to teach this group. The students who work in the computer lab know more about the old hardware and programming languages than I do.
Bobbie: I think you’re in a bit of a unique situation among us, Ken. There’s been so much progress in computers in such a short time. It’s not surprising that a few teen enthusiasts know more esoterica than you do.
Will: We’re not just teaching the subject-matter, but how to learn and apply it. You are more than qualified.
Ken: I find myself saying “I don’t know” a lot.
Will: Socrates would have said that demonstrates great wisdom on your part.
Ken: Socrates didn’t have twenty-five fifteen and sixteen year olds asking him to help them write engineering software in Fortran 77.
The group breaks out in laughter.
Will: What do you think of the revised Social Studies curriculum, Steve?
Steve: Fan-fucking-tastic.
Will: Would you care to, uh, elaborate?
Steve: I think the emphasis on history since the Second World War is inspired. It really resonates with the students. The Cold War in particular: they’re starting to grasp how big an influence geopolitical bipolarity had on American culture and politics, and how its absence poses real challenges for contemporary statecraft.
Will: How about the rest of you? What do you think of the overall emphasis on modernity in the curriculum?
John: If you’re asking whether I miss spending half the semester on Beowulf and Julius Caesar, the answer is “no.” I’ll take Joyce, Faulkner, and Hemingway any day and so will the students.
Jules: They’re responding very strongly to modern French literature. We finished Robbe-Grillet’s Les Gommes this week, and the conversation was both substantial and spirited.
Bobbie: It hasn’t been that much of a change for us. There never was all that much science, pre-Newton, in the curriculum to begin with.
Pat: Same here. I wonder, though.
Will: About what?
Pat: Let me be clear, I think the curriculum is great and that the students are receiving a first-class education. I’m just not sure I get the underlying educational philosophy. My understanding was that New Ridgemont High would be modeled on a mid-1980s high school, but with the exception of computer science and shop, this is not a 1980s curriculum.
Steve: [Downs his drink and mashes out his cigarette] I was wondering about that too. I mean, students in the 1980s learned all that boring, useless stuff that we’re not teaching. I remember slogging through Beowulf and having to learn about the Ming Dynasty and all that shit.
Will: You’re both right. But, remember, New Ridgemont High is an experimental school, not a nostalgia trip. It’s not meant to be an 80s clone.
Steve: You have to admit, though, that’s the impression that people have gotten.
Sal: You know what happens when stuff gets run through the popular media meat grinder, Steve.
Will: It’s an oversimplification, of course, but not essentially an untrue one. New Ridgemont High is culturally very 1980s, and that was the main intent, from the standpoint of social immersion.
Bobbie: Well, in that sense, you’ve succeeded beyond all expectations. Being on campus and out about town is like being on an alien planet, compared with the rest of L.A. County. A very nice alien planet, I should add.
Will: The curriculum is a response to a different set of problems, having to do primarily with relevance. In order to really participate in the contemporary economy and political scene, you have to know recent history. The schools, traditionally, do exactly the opposite, emphasizing knowledge of “classics,” broadly understood, and the result is that students know more about the Anglo Saxons and the Ming Dynasty than about Watergate and Glasnost.
Steve: Which is entirely useless.
Pat: So, why the retro computer education? Why all the vo-tech?
Ken: I can see the value of learning old computer technology. It’s rare that young people learn actual programming anymore, other than at the highest levels. Computer education today is almost entirely about learning how to use already existing applications, and the kids know that already. Shit, they know it from the time they’re in elementary school.
Will: As for the vo-tech, it’s something I believe in very strongly, for a number of reasons. [Gets up and crosses over to the pool bar to pour himself another Scotch] You need a refill, Steve?
Steve: I do. Gin and tonic, with a twist.
Pat: So, what are the reasons?
Will: For one thing, not every student is college material. But within the not-college-bound population, there are quite a few who boast substantial skill, which we have as much of a responsibility to help cultivate as their academic counterparts.
Bobbie: [Raises her glass] Right on!
Will: [Hands Steve a gin and tonic and returns to his chaise lounge.] And for another, we desperately need an infusion of fresh, talented craftsmen into the trades: electricians, plumbers, carpenters, auto mechanics…
Sal: My plumber recently told me that he’d like to expand, but can’t, because there aren’t enough skilled plumbers out there for him to hire.
Will: We’re shoving everyone into the damned university. The trade school system is practically non-existent, and the community colleges are turning into cheapo colleges offering B.A. and B.S. degrees in addition to Associates’.
Pat: I just wanted a better grasp of what we’re doing and why.
Sal: You’ll have to excuse Will. He loves his shop.
Will: I do love my shop.
Pat: [Laughing] You’ll get no argument from me. Kevin Reilly and Marty Savini have my old Volvo running like a greyhound.
Will: That’s what I mean. Those boys are seriously talented. In their own way, they’re as talented as Mitch and his gang.
Steve: It’s a good point, Will. [Gestures with his drink] I mean, think about how clueless Lance Donaldson or Brian Milman would be, if they were confronted with an overheating engine. [Lights another cigarette] Given how fucked my car always is and how much it costs to take it into the shop, I’d say Kevin and Marty’s talents are more valuable.
Will: I’d say equally valuable.
Steve: I’ll drink to that. [Clinks Will’s glass and takes a long swig from his own]
Bobbie: Well, I don’t know about you people, but I’m jumping in that very inviting looking pool. [Stands up and sheds her robe, to reveal a tiger-striped bikini.]
Pat: [Looking hard at Bobbie] Okay, I am so not taking off my robe, now.
Will: [Laughs] I’m afraid Bobbie’s in a class of her own. I doubt any of us are going to win any swimsuit contests.
Steve: I’d take that class.
Bobbie: So, get in here, big shot. Put your money where your mouth is.
Steve undoes the sash around his robe. He is wearing a loose-fitting, boxer-style bathing suit, whose only remarkable quality is that it is bright, fluorescent yellow.
John: [Holding his hands up, as if to shield his eyes] Holy shit, Steve. What the fuck?!
Pat: I’m like, blinded looking at that.
Steve: [Looking very proud of himself and pointing down at the bathing suit] 1980s baby! [Jumps in the pool, with an enormous splash] C’mon, Pat. If I’m willing to bare my pasty, out of shape body, you can come in too.
Pat: [Shrugs] Alright. [Removes her robe, under which is a stylish, one-piece suit, which fits snugly on her petite frame.] Geronimo! [Does a cannonball, into the pool]
Will, Sal, and Ken join them in the pool.
Will: [To John and Jules] You guys coming in?
Jules: I prefer to watch from the sidelines.
John: I’ll keep my eye on the bar. [Pours himself another drink]
Bobbie: [Floating on her back] Mmm. This is heavenly.
Will: You haven’t said much, Jules. What’s your impression of the students?
Jules: They’re remarkably integrated. I’ve never seen so much inter-clique socializing.
Will: Chloe Gold gets a lot of the credit for that. She’s done quite a bit of ambassadorial work between the cliques.
Steve: I’m doing an independent study with Chloe on the internal politics of the Warsaw Pact. She’s brilliant and intensely interested. I was at UCLA for years and rarely encountered a student that smart…or mature, for that matter.
Bobbie: She’s an incredible girl, Will. The best student body president I’ve ever seen. You lucked out with her.
Will: You should have seen her at the Mayor’s dinner party. She made a serious impression. Congresswoman Best offered her a job after graduation.
Sal: She’s got magnetism, that’s for sure.
Bobbie: On the broader question of school culture, what you’ve accomplished is nothing short of a miracle. Athletes taking advanced foreign language courses. Computer kids dating greasers. It’s amazing.
Jules: Agreed. Sandy Kendel has become one of my best students and has decided to pursue a degree in French literature, when he goes to college. How many star athletes can you say that about?
Will: They are a fantastic group. I feel extraordinarily lucky.
Pat: [Swimming to the side of the pool and pulling herself out] We all do, Will. Working at New Ridgemont High is a teacher’s dream.
Steve: You’re getting out already?
Pat: I’m gonna’ try a dive off the board.
Steve: Yay!
Pat: Are you hitting on me, Dr. Fortunato?
Steve: I’m working up the courage.
Pat: [Standing at the edge of the diving board] You are so full of shit. [Performs an elegant swan dive]
Steve: [While Pat is still underwater] God, that woman is sexy.
John: I’d dial it back a little, Steve. She doesn’t seem like a bullshitter.
Bobbie: I think she’s loving every minute of it.
Pat: [Coming up for air at the far end of the pool] What am I loving?
Bobbie: Steve’s subtle advances.
Pat: [Laughing] With you around, I’m glad anyone’s noticed me at all.
Steve: Bobbie may have flash, Pat, but you’ve got class.
Bobbie: So, you’re saying I have no class?
Steve: Oh, no, that’s not…
Bobbie: [Narrowing her eyes] So, what are you saying, exactly?
Steve: I, uh…
Bobbie: Yes?
Steve: Well, there’s no reason to…after all…
Bobbie: [Suddenly breaking into a smile] Gotcha!
John: Oh, man, you are so burned.
Ken: She fooled me too.
Steve: Okay, I’m a total loser.
Pat: [Soothingly] It’s alright. She would’ve gotten anyone.
Will: [Climbs out of the pool and dries himself off with a towel] How about some dinner? You guys hungry?
Jules: I am. What’s on the menu?
Will: Crab cakes to start. Then spinach and artichoke quiche, with a dandelion salad.
John: Holy shit!
Jules: C’est magnifique!
Steve: Not exactly a manly meal, is it?
Bobbie: Ignore him. I didn’t know you could cook, Will.
Will: You learn these things as a bachelor. Cooking is one of my passions.
Pat: And shop.
Will: Yes.
Steve: Cooking and shop. I don’t know what to make of that.
Bobbie: It means he’s sensitive and manly, Steve. I’d call that a winning combination.
A hearty laugh goes up among the group. Will heads into the house to get the food, while the others chat animatedly.
December 10, 2010, 8:00pm, PST
Location: William Friedman’s home, after the meeting. Will, Sal, and Bobbie are hanging out in Will’s hot tub.
Bobbie: [Rummages in her bag, at the side of the tub and produces a joint] Anyone interested?
Sal: Hell, yeah!
Will: Sounds great.
Bobbie lights the joint and takes a long drag off of it. Hands it to Sal, who puffs enthusiastically.]
Sal: This is amazing weed, Bobbie. [Hands Friedman the joint]
Will: [Takes several long hits] It’s delicious. Heady.
Bobbie: [Pleased] You cook. I grow weed.
Sal: [Impressed] You grew this?
Bobbie: Yeah. I’ve got a half dozen plants in my backyard. It’s an Indica/Sativa hybrid. I call it “Bobbie’s Best.”
Sal: [Taking the joint from Will] A fine name!
Will: [Contentedly] I thought the meeting went well.
Sal: It was outstanding. The food, the conversation… everything. You’re forging a really tight group, here.
Bobbie: You’ve picked some talented teachers, Will, and cool too. Very cool. Teaching at New Ridgemont High has been a blast.
Sal: So, do you think Pat and Steve are gonna’ become a thing?
Will: [laughing] If Steve has his way. I’ve never seen him that smitten.
Bobbie: He’s perfect for her. Hilarious and a sweetheart. He’ll bring her out of her shell.
Sal: Pat did seem pretty awkward at the beginning. She rallied, though.
Bobbie: “Plain girl” syndrome. She has no idea how gorgeous she is.
Will: I’m happy for Steve. He’s had it rough, since his divorce. When I asked him to join the team, he was pretty low.
Bobbie: How long have you known him?
Will: About ten years. I was doing a visiting professorship at UCLA, while he was still there.
Bobbie: [Nods her head at Sal] And what about you two? How far do you go back?
Sal: Far.
Will: We grew up together, on Long Island. Went to Michigan together. Got separated during graduate school. He went to Caltech, and I returned to New York to study at the New School. But, we always planned on working together at some point.
Bobbie: And now, here you both are.
Will: Sal was the first person I thought of, when it came time to staff New Ridgemont High. I stole him from MIT.
Sal: He doesn’t pay as well, I can tell you that.
Will: [Brandishes the joint] But the perks, Sal.
Sal: [Laughs] Of course. The perks make up for it.
Will: [Passes the joint to Sal] What about you, Bobbie? What’s your story?
Bobbie: I’m a California beach hippie. Grew up in Santa Barbara. I was good at science and liked kids, so I became a biology teacher.
Sal: [Puffs on the joint and then hands it to her] I want to be a California beach hippie.
Will: You burn too easily.
Sal: Humph.
Bobbie: [Takes a final hit off the joint and puts it out] I think I want a drink now.
Will: I’ve got a pitcher of margaritas in the fridge. [Gets out of the hot tub and goes inside]
Bobbie: He’s really happy, isn’t he?
Sal: The happiest I’ve ever seen him.
Bobbie: It’s strange though. He’s warm and sociable; intimate, even. And yet… [she takes a cigarette from her purse and lights it. Smokes thoughtfully] …there’s a distance. It’s like he’s far away, even though he’s close.
Sal: Will’s a dreamer, Bobbie. He’s constantly thinking; imagining. The only time he’s totally engaged is when he’s with the kids.
Bobbie: [Exhales a cloud of smoke and shakes her head] I don’t think he sees them as kids.
Sal: No, he doesn’t. In fact, he’d correct me if he heard me call them that. He takes them very seriously. I mean, you don’t invest the kind of responsibility that he’s invested in Chloe, Tom, and Mitch, if you think of them as kids.
Bobbie: It’s not just that. It’s like he’s one of them, you know? [Smokes intently]
Sal: He is one of them. He may operate in our world, but his heart is in theirs.
Bobbie: Does that worry you?
Sal: Sometimes. He can get so involved that he forgets the bigger picture and crosses, like, eighteen different lines. Of course, that’s also the only reason why the whole damned thing works. [Shakes his head]
Bobbie: [Wrinkles her nose] I would say that part of the point of New Ridgemont High is to question where those lines are and to redraw them.
Sal: You and Will are kindred spirits. I’m just glad that Doubting Tom Rosen is keeping an eye on things.
Will comes out with a tray, on which is a pitcher and three glasses. He puts it down, pours two margaritas, and hands them out. Pours a third for himself and slips back into the hot tub.
Bobbie: [Sips her drink and sighs with pleasure] I see that you’re a mixologist, as well as a chef.
Sal: Let’s just say that Will is a master of all the Epicurean arts.
Will: That’s his nice way of saying I’m a hedonist.
Sal: The best kind of hedonist, of course.
Bobbie: [Raises her glass] To Hedonists!
Will and Sal: [Clinking glasses] Here! Here!
Will: So, Bobbie, any significant other?
Bobbie: No, I’m single…well, divorced.
Sal: Do tell.
Bobbie: Nothing very exciting, I’m afraid. Got married too young. I was in love, in the way that only a young hippie can be. It never occurred to me that love wasn’t enough; that there had to be a basis for growth; a purpose for the relationship once the head-over-heels part was over. We didn’t last two years.
Sal: Are you dating anyone?
Bobbie: Not at the moment. [Takes a long drag off of her cigarette.] There’s no lack of suitors, though.
Sal: Some of the other teachers have expressed interest?
Bobbie: [Laughs] Them and the students.
Will: Is that awkward for you?
Bobbie: Not at all. They’re sweet about it. Kevin Reilly has a serious crush. He gave me roses on my birthday.
Sal: Jeez, how do you handle that?
Bobbie: There’s nothing to handle. He hits on me — in creative and flattering ways, I should add — I reject him — drolly — everyone laughs. Rinse, wash, and repeat.
Sal: Seems like treacherous ground.
Bobbie: [Rolls her eyes] Please, spare me that bullshit. The boy is eighteen years old and has a healthy libido. I can’t get all hyped up about him hitting on me, and he can take the rejection.
Will: I like your attitude.
Sal: You resemble her attitude.
Will: She’s right, Sal. People his age and a couple of years older won the Second World War. Don’t buy into this week’s panic.
Sal: I’m not buying into anything; just pointing out the realities.
Will: We all know the realities. The point is to try and change them. Otherwise, what the hell are we doing?
Sal: You know that I agree with you, in principle. Just don’t forget that the people outside of the NRH universe don’t.
Will: [To Bobbie] He gives this sermon every Sunday. The last time I heard it was when I refused to bust the students for drinking at the Celebration Ball.
Sal: Refused to bust them? You cheered them on and got them all taxis. I’m starting to wonder whether you would have spiked the punch if they hadn’t thought of it first.
Bobbie: I heard about that. Fucking awesome!
Will: I’m not re-litigating this, Sal. Suffice it to say that I don’t subscribe to the “We all had fun, now you don’t get to have any” school of thought.
Sal: I hate when you play the hypocrite card.
Will: That’s just because you know I’m right.
Sal: Humph.
Bobbie: [Laughing] Do you two always go around and around like this?
Sal: Always.
Will: It’s part of his job description: “Save Will Friedman from himself.” You’ll find it in his contract, between teaching physics and sponsoring the chess team.
Bobbie: The chess team?
Sal: I’m a nerd, okay? So, sue me.
The three laugh, and Will pours another round of margaritas.
