COLUMN: The Homecoming float and paper napkin crisis

It used to be tradition for each class at Preston High School to construct a float for the annual Homecoming parade. Down Main Street the line would snake with lots of cheers and school spirit. 1972 was the senior year for my older brother, Scott. Being the social butterfly that he was, our farm shed out back was selected as the construction site for the class of ‘72’s entry. The guys and gals gathered there with lots of laughing, flirting and fun. I made my usual attempts at lingering and hanging out on the sidelines as the pesky little brother only to be eventually chased off so as not to “cramp his style.”

I am almost sure that the opponent that year for PHS was the Snake River Panthers. I remember a float built on a hay trailer with a chicken wire frame whereby paper napkins would be stuffed in each hole in the wire; then spray painted in school colors of blue, white and gold. This gave it a puffy appearance and was actually quite eye-popping. The main feature of this float was the A & W PaPa figure “borrowed” from the roof of the popular drive-in restaurant. A fabricated Panther draped over the burger he held high to show our anticipated and expected dominance on the football field.

After the parade, the float was towed back to the shed for the deconstruction party scheduled for the following day. Enter stage left: mother Connie Jean. Not only was she the travel agent for guilt trips but the Queen of Frugality, A to Z, tiara and all.

I was still an obedient 11 year old who followed her command to accompany her to the shed, with black plastic garbage bags in tow. She and I commenced to pull every one of those “blankity blank” paper napkins out of the chicken wire holes and fill up those bags. It didn’t matter that some had paint on them and some did not. She was not about to let those kids, “just rip this apart and throw away perfectly good napkins!”

Her next task, which did not include me, (thank goodness) was to spend hour upon hour at the ironing board (with her favorite soap opera on TV) methodically straightening and pressing flat each individual napkin. I am not kidding! This is the absolute truth! Her strategy was to then stack them vertically inside the tall paper collection bags that the Deseret Industries used to distribute to homes for clothing drives. Once this was accomplished, the DI bags were stored in the garage and rotated as needed to a spot near the mudroom back porch entrance. This made it convenient for mopping up mud tracked in from the farm, kitchen spills, or squishing that scary spider. A quick clean up in the bathrooms used by the male members of the household was another use (you catch my drift). I remember more than one Sunday pot roast, corn, mashed potatoes with brown gravy (my absolute favorite) dinner where the napkins next to each place setting had a corner or two of Preston Indian blue or gold, her way of fancy table decorations.

These napkins lasted close to the arrival of my own graduation eight years later. Needless to say, I did not offer the shed out back for the class of 1980 to build a float!

I have not checked the price of paper napkins at Stokes lately. I never buy them anyway as I just spill on my shirt regardless of the presence of a napkin, so why bother? But, I venture at 1972 prices, Connie Jean probably saved enough money to purchase one or two pieces of that “expensive Tupperware.” Maybe that explains why the leftover filled cottage cheese containers and Styrofoam malt cups from Polar Bear finally disappeared from our fridge?!

I am just teasing you Mom, thanks for the example of “making do with what you’re given” and for your tireless work ethic. Yet another character trait of that greatest generation that we all can learn from….JOB WELL DONE!

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