The ever important first blog post has finally come after weeks of preparation. After being warned numerous times by a certain, AP Literature teacher that the Lurker Alert was in full effect, I had to simply wait for the right topic to come along. Funny how father and son seem to make use of a collaborative effort. This display of photographic savvy, captured by Aaron Brandt, timelessly displays the night that was Senior Homecoming '08, a Rendezvous in Paris.

Oh and what a fun-filled night it was. Don't be alarmed or even fooled, this look of collection should not be mistaken for the exhaustion factor from dancing one too many 90s wedding staples, the Hustle, Cotton Eye Joe or the Macarena. No, not even a lenient Ms. Haupt, walkie-talkie in hand, Cranking dat Souljah Boy, could have kept me at this dance. Which explains, the look. Dancing my one and only, with my once, one and only, to the musical selection, "L is for the Way You Look at Me" only confirmed the next necessary course of action.

In what was a terrible day from the beginning, it looked like Paris and I, would share but a short fling. Having in mind to leave the dance after my duties as a jester in the Homecoming Court, I decided upon arrival I would look to the good doctor for a bit of advice to cure my problems. "Dr. Buuck, I know you did not attend your Senior Prom, any regrets?" "Not for a second." Well this put it over the edge for me, as I decided to follow our esteemed leader's footsteps. Pictures taken, poses uncomfortably maintained, and smiles forced, I was ready to leave the dance. After making a quick exit I was met by opposition at the door once, twice, nay thrice. The likes of Mr. G, Ms. Haupt, and Mr. Reincke all decided to have a word with the young delinquent, who leaving the dance before 8:00 p.m. must have been to no good. Yet when all was said and done, I fanagled my way out of the parking lot, buckled my seatbelt, slithered off that paisley tie, and settled down to a night of college football, alone.

Questioning whether or not I had made the right choice, as I lay in bed, I decided time will soon tell. I haven't been squirming yet, and now wish just in the slightest that I could have been kicked out of Homecoming, like a whole herd of Mustangs were, to ensure I won't be tempted to attend the next Lutheran High North dance. The following Monday, my hope was reassured as Dr. Buuck pounded his chest and rallied my spirits with a supportive "No regrets!" Absolutely doctor, I now realize, I couldn't agree more.