EIGHT MORE RATHER LONG INCREDIBLY DULL FACTS ABOUT ME (THE “ELEMENTARY SCHOOL” EDITION) My love for stormy weather came from an incident in third grade. The skies turned black and we were all hiding under out desks during a tornado warning. Everyone was freaking out and crying and I was just glad that we weren’t having to learn anything and that there was pandemonium in the classroom. Basically storms today signify that normalcy has to be put on hold and uncertainty takes over for a short amount of time. I like that feeling. In the second grade, Rick Snyder and I were admiring a new display the teacher had made on the wall. I noticed a small piece of paper on the ground and bent over to pick it up. Rick’s fingernail somehow made it into my eye, slicing the white of my eye. Doctors said if it had been a fraction of an inch closer to my eyeball I would have been blinded. I had to wear an eye patch and have cream put into my eye for weeks. Randy Hardin was my first official fight. He wanted to fight me after school and on the walk home he said it was time. I pushed him down and sat on his chest until he cried “uncle”. He never messed with me again but I felt awful about it. For Halloween in the fourth grade, my mother dressed me up like a woman. Wig, mini skirt, thigh high boots, makeup, etc. I still wonder what she could have possibly been thinking sending me off to school like that. In the third grade, each classroom had its own “library” that we could check books out of. I checked out a book about Bats and promptly lost it. Fearing jail time, I somehow devised a plan on getting into the index card file, finding the card that had my name and the book name on it and removed it, thus removing any evidence of me ever checking it out. I was pretty proud of myself until somebody found the book in the town square and turned it into the teacher. Nobody ever questioned me on my skullduggery. Also in the third grade, we were assigned to write a poem. I wrote one called “Short and Sweet”. All I remember were the first two lines “Short and sweet that’s what she is. Boy, is she pretty.” It went on and on about my love for this girl. On parent’s night, my teacher showed it to my mother who openly wept over my love for her expressed in poetry. I had actually written it for our student teacher who I had a major crush on. But I never told Mom any different because she really showered me with love after that. I went to an odd school in fifth grade (Dodson Chapel) where we weren’t in traditional class surroundings, we wandered around and chose cards that had a brief story on one side, then three questions which we would have to answer on our papers. The actual answers were all printed on the other side of the cards. I learned quickly you didn’t even have to read the story … you just dropped the card on the floor, looked at the three answers and just write those down. I did this with every card in the school. The teachers were either onto my scam and never said anything or must have thought I was the clumsiest kid ever. At that same school, the school staff was asked to pick five exemplary students to be interviewed for a radio show about current events. I was one of the five. We all gathered in a small room and a man with his tape recorder. He started to ask us about Vietnam and I had no idea what Vietnam was all about or what was going on there. When the radio guy asked my opinion on Vietnam, I replied “It’s bad”. I don’t recall being asked any more questions after that.
Posted on: Sun, 11 Aug 2013 22:35:01 +0000
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