Have you ever felt the color red? You know what I mean the crimson heat of embarrassment! I have! I had set myself up for the impending circumstance by wearing a green plaid sport coat with brown vertically striped trousers. To top it off, my feet boasted tan wing-tips with white suede inserts. At this point it should be obvious that I need not stand on my head to gain any one's attention.
That is the way I entered ASHS one cool spring morning in 1960. I went directly to my locker, removed my overcoat, selected my books for the morning's classes and proudly strutted off in the direction of my homeroom. It was a long distance to homeroom from the locker. A lengthy hallway had to be navigated, and a flight of stairs had to be scaled.
Along the way I met several friends. By then they were familiar with my usual loud dressing habits; however, my choice of clothing that day was unusually obtuse. They cajoled me in fun and the girls seemed to blush empathetically at my clashing colors. Their blushing made me feel uneasy. But I was noticed and that was all I wanted anyway, so I continued strutting the final steps to the homeroom.
I entered the room and greeted the teacher She blushed too! Was my clothing that bright? I shrugged off a transient impulse to go home and change. I placed my book on the desk top and sat down. As I sat I glanced at my lap.
I felt the blood rush to my face, beads of perspiration burst from my forehead. I felt the crimson heat of total embarrassment; the red horror that made this a moment in life that I would never forget. The tail of my shirt was staring at me from an unzipped fly.
That was one of the most indelible moments in my life. I am saving how I corrected the situation for a later speech.