As the 1971-72 president of the Meadowdale High School Letterwomen, it was my job to oversee the fall homecoming dance. That included everything from decorating the gym, to the crowning the King and Queen, to procuring the band.
There were lots of hands on deck when it came time to decorate. We picked the almost impossible task of making “half-footballs” from chicken wire to hang on the walls. Then we stuffed the wire holes with light blue and white paper napkins with the number of each player displayed on the individual decorations.
The election of King and Queen was handled by our faculty advisor, and a select few would tally the votes at the end of the week for the Coronation during the dance.
What was causing me fits was trying to find a live band to play for the dance. It was looking an awful lot like we’d be resorting to using a record player (remember those?), when Dave, the Senior Class Vice-President, got a line on a Seattle-based group that might be available.
So there we were, poster paper spread throughout the school hallways, paintbrushes literally in hand, creating the posters advertising ticket prices for the dance when the call finally came in. We had a band!
Dave relayed the information to me, I relayed it to the poster-painters, they got busy finishing up the signs, and all was well.
Or so I thought until I was called into the principal’s office the next morning. “The faculty has decided to veto your band,” he said. “We find the name of it politically inappropriate.”
“Huh?” I glanced around at the other teachers and students in the room. Dave shrugged, palms up, with a ‘search me’ look on his face.
“Come with me,” the principal said.
We walked down the main corridor to the front of the multi-purpose room. There, across the entrance was a huge banner advertising our dance. “Homecoming 1971” it read in big, bold letters. “Dance to the music of Reuben and the Orange Jews.”
The principal reached up and dramatically tore the paper from the wall. Dave was doubled over, laughing so hard I thought he might throw up.
“What’s so funny?” demanded the principal.
“The band’s name—“ Dave managed to wheeze out, “Isn’t ‘Reuben and the Orange Jews,’ it’s ‘Reuben and the Orange JUICE’!”
We quickly replaced the sign, and the band played on…