This week in sweet revenge

Progressive Gold found a great story from Colorado about a high school senior yearbook editor who sprung a little surprise on the community when this year's book was published.

The yearbook for the high school in this mountain town near Denver published photos of students smoking marijuana and drinking beer, drawing the ire of parents and administrators.

Hannah Fredrickson, the senior who served as yearbook editor, said she regrets not balancing the yearbook pictures of teenagers smoking pot with pictures of non-drug users. She also said she is sorry about not warning her principal.

But she said people need to know what is going on.

“The point of the yearbook entirely is to cover what happens in the year,” she told KCNC TV. “You’d be surprised at how many children at Conifer High School smoke pot. I wanted to push more for a deeper side of Conifer, which, for a lot of students, is drugs and alcohol,”

I don't really care whether this was some principled stand or a blind stab at revenge, and I'm willing to suspend my disbelief at how this managed to get through the faculty supervisor (if there was one.) My hat's off to her. It takes a lot of fortitude, and a great deal of youthful naivete, to take on the pristine illusion of suburban/small-town American that "all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above-average, especially mine."

Palau has said everything else in her post that I might have imagined saying, but this reminded me of Robert Lipsyte's March column about college basketball players and how it would only take one team standing out to upend the whole racket.

Six years ago, Sonny Vaccaro said to me, ''The kids these days know what's going on. They also know they're the only ones not getting big dough. If the kids had a plan, they could cut themselves in. All you need is one kid who can rouse the posse.''

That seemed like an invitation to tell him my longtime Final Four fantasy: Just before the title game, the opposing captains demand $50,000 per player from the TV producer. No cash, no game.

The devil chortled at my innocence.

''Almost been there,'' he said. ''Some years ago, one of the Final Four teams had T-shirts and statements ready. The team leader was a terrific spokesman -- he's playing pro now -- but they were upset in the semifinals. But that's their story to tell, not mine."