Three words
Aug. 20th, 2006 01:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hotelbearsfThe Sunday Comical arrived with more than the usual slew of inserts. These always go immediately into the recycling bin without a look but today I happened to see a peek of one of them screaming the three words I dreaded as a child: back to school.
Until I started high school, I hated, really detested school. Between Kindergarten and 8th grade I only had one teacher I liked and who not only enjoyed teaching children but how to communicate with them and make education a breeze. That was the only year I wasn't the class clown and Iwasn't sent to the Principal's office once. Before they had speed dial, I think he had my parents phone numbers memorized.
The other day I was talking to a childhood friend, Kenny, who has a son about 9 years old. "He reminds me a lot of you" he said. "Not big on rules". We were laughing about the pranks I pulled in school. Some of them were hilarious enough to share here:
Thank goodness I didn't pro-create and have a mini Mark. I don't think I could tolerate it! Sometimes I don't know how my parents did, either. But they did. And when I got to high school and matriculated to college, all I could say was that I had a great experience with terrific teachers and I really enjoyed the entire process.
Until I started high school, I hated, really detested school. Between Kindergarten and 8th grade I only had one teacher I liked and who not only enjoyed teaching children but how to communicate with them and make education a breeze. That was the only year I wasn't the class clown and Iwasn't sent to the Principal's office once. Before they had speed dial, I think he had my parents phone numbers memorized.
The other day I was talking to a childhood friend, Kenny, who has a son about 9 years old. "He reminds me a lot of you" he said. "Not big on rules". We were laughing about the pranks I pulled in school. Some of them were hilarious enough to share here:
- Tommy Passione, the school bully of the 2nd grade threw me off the lunch bench. I cracked my head open and had to be taken to the hospital for stitches. About a week later I got a hold of Tommy's bicycle from the school yard (we didn't lock our bikes in those days) and threw it into the roadway just as a McKendrick cement truck was coming by and smashed it into pieces.
- Bobby Williams, the asshole terror of our neighborhood hit my best friend and gave him a bloody nose and then sped away on his bike as we were walking to school. The next day I got a lock and chain from the hardware store, locked up his bike at school and threw the key down the gutter.
- Miss Jennings, our fourth grade teacher was a total bitch. She assigned reams of homework and woe be the person who didn't turn it in on time. Stricter than a nun going through menopause, it was her way or the highway. One the last day of school, my friend Kenny and I placed a mouse in her unlocked car and left the window open a bit so the mouse wouldn't suffocate. At 2:30 all the kids were dismissed but Kenny and I wanted to see her reaction so we hid out in some bushes that would provide a quick getaway yet give us a great view of the parking lot. Finally at 3pm Mrs. Williams got into her car, backed out of the space, was driving around the circle to the road when all of a sudden she stopped the car and got out screaming at the top of her lungs. It was worth the wait. We snuck out and laughed our heads off. She never did figure out who did it.
- In middle school, my pranks got larger. The best was the strike in 8th grade. Our asshole principal, Mr. Larder took the "pal" out of principal; he was more like a Dictator. When he decided to pull out the soda vending machines and cancel hot dog day because he was tired of the trash. A bunch of us went in to complain but he wouldn't budge. So instead, I got four pals together and we organized the first ever school strike. At 1:25 (the middle of fifth period) 400 kids got up out of their chairs and walked out. More like ran out. I'll never forget it: teachers screaming at us to come back and 400 kids whooping and hollering as we ran out the door of the school and home. Of course one of the little smarmy students finked on us (which we expected) and sure enough when we got to school the next day there was an all student assembly in place of first period. Larder was furious, yeling at the students. I made the crack to a bunch of friends that he looked like a stuffed turkey. We all laughed which made things worst. Before it ended he called out a bunch of names of people who had to stay after. Mine was at the top of the list. He marched us into his office, ordered us to sit down and then he launched into his diatribe - he was furious. "Do you realize that what you did was against the law? I'm thinking about hauling you into truancy court!" He went on and on. And even worst, he pointed at me, I was the son of the President of the PTA. Did I realize how much I would embarass my Mother when she finds out that I was one of the culprits of this escapade?
I retorted back by stating "you're already in enough trouble in our house, Mr. Larder because you cancelled Hot Dog Day without consulting my Mom and that's a major fundraiser for the PTA. You've got some explaining to do yourself."
The phone rang. Mr. Larder picked it up, put the caller on hold and sent us back to class. Apparently Mother was the call he put on hold. When I came home from school I was put on house arrest. Each day after school I had to park myself in my room with breaks for meals and the bathroom. No telephone, no television, no stereo. But they didn't say no socializing so my friends came over in the afternoon by way of my bedroom window and we played cards and board games until the 2 weeks were up
When it came time for graduation, Larder was up on stage My Mother as President of the PTA stood next to him handing out the diplomas as Mr. Larder shook each student's hand. As he shook mine he turned to my Mom and said in a low voice "he's the reason I have all the gray hair and a heart condition."
I turned to him, smiled sweetly and said in an equally low voice, "have a vicious death, Mr. Larder. You've made these last three years hell."
There was nothing he could do and when we got home that night I got another lecture from my parents about being kind to other people even if I didn't like them. There was no use arguing; summer was ahead and I had the distinct feeling of never having to set foot on that awful middle school campus again. And I never did.
- Bobby Williams, the asshole terror of our neighborhood hit my best friend and gave him a bloody nose and then sped away on his bike as we were walking to school. The next day I got a lock and chain from the hardware store, locked up his bike at school and threw the key down the gutter.
- Miss Jennings, our fourth grade teacher was a total bitch. She assigned reams of homework and woe be the person who didn't turn it in on time. Stricter than a nun going through menopause, it was her way or the highway. One the last day of school, my friend Kenny and I placed a mouse in her unlocked car and left the window open a bit so the mouse wouldn't suffocate. At 2:30 all the kids were dismissed but Kenny and I wanted to see her reaction so we hid out in some bushes that would provide a quick getaway yet give us a great view of the parking lot. Finally at 3pm Mrs. Williams got into her car, backed out of the space, was driving around the circle to the road when all of a sudden she stopped the car and got out screaming at the top of her lungs. It was worth the wait. We snuck out and laughed our heads off. She never did figure out who did it.
- In middle school, my pranks got larger. The best was the strike in 8th grade. Our asshole principal, Mr. Larder took the "pal" out of principal; he was more like a Dictator. When he decided to pull out the soda vending machines and cancel hot dog day because he was tired of the trash. A bunch of us went in to complain but he wouldn't budge. So instead, I got four pals together and we organized the first ever school strike. At 1:25 (the middle of fifth period) 400 kids got up out of their chairs and walked out. More like ran out. I'll never forget it: teachers screaming at us to come back and 400 kids whooping and hollering as we ran out the door of the school and home. Of course one of the little smarmy students finked on us (which we expected) and sure enough when we got to school the next day there was an all student assembly in place of first period. Larder was furious, yeling at the students. I made the crack to a bunch of friends that he looked like a stuffed turkey. We all laughed which made things worst. Before it ended he called out a bunch of names of people who had to stay after. Mine was at the top of the list. He marched us into his office, ordered us to sit down and then he launched into his diatribe - he was furious. "Do you realize that what you did was against the law? I'm thinking about hauling you into truancy court!" He went on and on. And even worst, he pointed at me, I was the son of the President of the PTA. Did I realize how much I would embarass my Mother when she finds out that I was one of the culprits of this escapade?
I retorted back by stating "you're already in enough trouble in our house, Mr. Larder because you cancelled Hot Dog Day without consulting my Mom and that's a major fundraiser for the PTA. You've got some explaining to do yourself."
The phone rang. Mr. Larder picked it up, put the caller on hold and sent us back to class. Apparently Mother was the call he put on hold. When I came home from school I was put on house arrest. Each day after school I had to park myself in my room with breaks for meals and the bathroom. No telephone, no television, no stereo. But they didn't say no socializing so my friends came over in the afternoon by way of my bedroom window and we played cards and board games until the 2 weeks were up
When it came time for graduation, Larder was up on stage My Mother as President of the PTA stood next to him handing out the diplomas as Mr. Larder shook each student's hand. As he shook mine he turned to my Mom and said in a low voice "he's the reason I have all the gray hair and a heart condition."
I turned to him, smiled sweetly and said in an equally low voice, "have a vicious death, Mr. Larder. You've made these last three years hell."
There was nothing he could do and when we got home that night I got another lecture from my parents about being kind to other people even if I didn't like them. There was no use arguing; summer was ahead and I had the distinct feeling of never having to set foot on that awful middle school campus again. And I never did.
Thank goodness I didn't pro-create and have a mini Mark. I don't think I could tolerate it! Sometimes I don't know how my parents did, either. But they did. And when I got to high school and matriculated to college, all I could say was that I had a great experience with terrific teachers and I really enjoyed the entire process.
