*As in Irving Jr. High just a few blocks west of the old prison and a half block south of Sugarhouse ward where we had seminary, in SLC.

We used to sing this during gym class when forced to go outside in our hideous gym outfits to play field hockey on the asphalt.

Sung to some college song--don't remember which, but sung rousingly:

Beer, beer, beer for old Irving [Jr] High
You bring the whiskey, I'll bring the rye.
Send ol' Bronson* out for gin
and don't let a sober sophomore in.

We never stagger, we never fall,
We sober up on wood alcohol,
While the dear old faculty lies drunk on the ballroom floor.
More! More! More!

Beer beer beer (repeat.)

*Mr. Bronson was vice principle--actually a kind of jolly guy.

Miss Williams, our 8th grade gym teacher, was never amused by it.

Talking about mothers and mothers' day and reminiscing brought back these memories. When I was in Jr. High my mother was in the RS presidency and was home less than if she had a full time job. Always a luncheon, a funeral, a sick person to visit, or cutesie poodles to make out of dry cleaners plastic bags and hangars.

I got to be really good at forging her handwriting for excuse notes.