RDC 4 lyfe

It was high school when the Robot Death Crew first banned together. My participation in this group I believe helped save me from the horrors of a disillusioned preparatory school experience. Unlike the students around us we were not overtly wealthy and had at least the idea that beyond these affluent school walls there was a “real world” that was all in all different from the BMW and Mercedes strewn student parking lot. I can’t really recall how exactly the group was formed or how many members it held in its heyday. Most of us were scattered in different grades mine being the second to last generation of the crew.  Unlike most teens of our time we did not have the common ground of music for some of us were punk and hardcore fans whilst others were only into electronic music. This I think worked to our advantage because everyone in the crew leaned an appreciation of the others music and many bands were formed back then and some even exist today. I can however with a distinctness remember that the binding agent in this group was none other than bring ruckus and distraction to all those around us.

 Our dress was part of this ethos even though a strict dress code was enacted upon us we felt the need to push it to its limits. I can remember Trav wearing a skirt one day claiming that it was indeed in the dress code. One thing that all members had in common was the use of aviator style sunglasses both indoors and out. When wearing them in a class room setting often times the instructor would ask us to remove the glasses if they were not prescription. Common response was that I was suffering from “rental alopecia”, and this merited no further inquiries.

 A common theme amongst our pranks and lunch room ruckus was vomiting. This was especially grotesque in the lunch room I can recall with a preciseness Benny P being dared to eat his own regurgitated split pea soup. None of us let alone any of the forced lunch room audience thought he would do it; Benny proved us wrong. These antics often times carried over into the weekends. The whole crew gathered in roads to try and drink a gallon of milk in an hour a feat that to this day I’ve only seen Jack Quack accomplish. The crew was also fond of boxing, and every year we would get together and have rivaled fights. After these matches though everything in the crew returned to a relative calm. It does seem odd that all this was put to an effort to pad me somehow from the cold institution of private school. I still do believe that without the Robot Death Crew 
preparatory school would have been a worse experience