Buck, Toast and Jelly.
I'd like to imagine these were carefree times. And in many respects they were.
But in the moment, here are three guys worried about doing well in school, agonizing over girlfriends, breaking in their drivers licences and imagining how, 27 years hence, life away from parents and school and lame part time jobs will be liberating and free.
The guy in the middle sees himself in his early 40's operating something akin to Rick's Cafe American in some exotic locale like Casablanca, chatting with the piano player, bribing local officials and dealing with the occasional ex-girlfriend who walks in the door with her husband and tells the piano player to "Play it, Sam."