Dropout with Proficiency

In the beginning, there was the Word. And it was probably misspelled – if, like me, you attended a California public school circa the ’70s or ’80s. I didn’t make it far enough to gauge the quality of our state’s education for the ’90s, or subsequent decades, which I presume sucked as much as it did in 1988, when I split high school two years prior to graduation so I could write poetry and play guitar as a self-styled beatnik troubadour. This was a viable career option back in the ’80s, so long as one lived with one’s parents and subsisted on little more than donut shop coffee and clove cigarettes.