ORIGIN OF THE STUDY HALL GANG

My wife and I were tired and stressed. We were social, but we had somehow become isolated. We worked during the day, burying our faces in computers and smartphones, and when the workday was over, there was the gym or TV, dinner, and bedtime. There was Facebook of course, which up to that point allowed us to reconnect with childhood friendships and reminisce, but in the end, we used it mostly to watch people pass us by, content in our own separate, older faces. Gone even were the friendships developed through our kids - the parents of their friends, trapped (like us) on the same train of little league, soccer, and cub scouts. The kids were older now, and those friendships, forced as they were, had evaporated. We were long-standing members of the community but had no idea who our neighbors were. It had to stop.

In April 2015, I discovered one of the Montclair Community pages on Facebook, Montclair Watercooler Connections. Most towns have them, massive discussion forums where folks from town share contractor references, recommend restaurants, or rant about school issues. At the time, the Watercooler had about 4,000 members. I jumped on as a joker, looking for much needed social interaction and attention. My first post inquired where in town I might “lay down the boogie.” The response was immediate and positive, but more than that: I somehow felt in the glib and snappy responses a sigh of relief - a realization (or spark of hope?) in those people that there might in fact be something fun and entertaining in their midst that they had somehow overlooked. They were looking for the same thing I was. 

A month later, on May 30, 2015, I drew a line in the sand, insisting spontaneously to my wife one weekend that we get out for a drink. Once at the bar, we scrolled through our phone contacts in search of someone who might be willing and able to join us. Coming up empty handed, phone in hand, I was struck with an epiphany. Why not post an open invitation on the Montclair Watercooler? Of the 4,000 people on the site, surely one would come out and meet us for a drink. Beth was unimpressed, but deferred to my optimism. I played it off as a lark, secretly hoping for a massive showing. I posted, and we waited. 

Nothing. 

The next week, I tried again. A few Facebook pokes, but nothing. 

I became more aggressive, targeting specific people, strangers who had responded positively to my past jokes, offering to buy them drinks with secret passwords. I hyped up the funny, becoming more and more creative in my invitations, more outrageous. Still nothing. 

On the sixth week, my wife asked me to stop. “You're embarrassing us,” she said. “No one is coming out to meet us. Time to give up.” And that’s when it happened. That night, July 17, 2015, Martin Schwartz walked into the bar, introduced himself, sat down, and had a drink with us. 

The Study Hall Gang was born.