|Me as a young man|
When I was younger I used to hold court in class. Back then I would blurt out stuff to get a laugh and the teacher would say, "If you don't stop it I'll make you sit with the girls."
That was like putting the fox in the hen house. I spent more time in the girls' section of the class which is right where I wanted to be.
I'm a lover not a fighter...
Here's that report card.
All the As are in Gym.
Also take a look, there are numbers around the bad grades. Here's what the numbers mean. 9-Is frequently inattentive. 14-Shows little effort. 12-Displays poor conduct in classroom. 13-Has poor work habits.
All a result of me just trying to get a laugh in class.
Those grades drove my parents crazy.
Let me say this, it's harder being a parent than being a kid. As a kid you have no idea that your parents worry about you all the time.
Kids don't know it but that's their future. The old joke about having children and apologizing to your folks? Funny and true.
I got older and that P.E. thing helped me to no end. I was the size I am now, albeit thinner, at 15 and everyone wanted to make me a lineman for the football team. Heck with that, I wanted to be a running back but I was the only one who felt that way.
That led me to a sport I never knew, wrestling, and that was where I got my two letters and a county championship.
But back to 7th Grade.
Remembering that far back makes my head hurt. It's like looking at objects through a vinyl shower curtain.
Here are a few head hurting memories...
The bell would ring and we would run through the halls to our next class. Don't know why, we just did.
One time I was stapling things to a bulletin board and was up on a counter top. I didn't notice the stapler was open and as I was getting down I put my hand on the open stapler and stapled my palm. The staple went right into the skin.
Another time we had a track and field day and the whole school was outside to watch it. All the classes were competing against each other. In one race as the runners came around the track a bunch of girls cheered for this guy who was leading the race. He grinned, waved, stumbled, and promptly fell flat on his face.
During my whole time in school I never liked math or science classes. In those you were either right or wrong, not a lot of wiggle room. I liked wiggle room. So civics, geography, history, those classes I gravitated towards. The kind you could b.s. your way through.
That I could do.
But I was always the class clown, the cutup.
Sitting with the girls.
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