Recently I was back home for a family gathering. We got to looking through old family photos and found some true gems, like the one above. Note the puffy face and barely open eyes on what appears to be an exhibit at a wax museum or a person who’s just been embalmed. This is what happens when your mom schedules a professional photo to be taken at 8am on a Saturday, failing to realize that in High School Friday nights are boys night out. Staring at the photo, I could still feel that hangover.
But the photos that really got the stories going were the ones of middle school. I loved Middle School. It was the coolest because that’s where the crusty hard-asses always seemed to end up. It’s like being a minor league baseball player–you’re almost good enough for high school but not quite. These guys were usually ex-military and demanded discipline and respect, yet they ended up teaching the demographic least likely to be disciplined and respectful. It’s all quite karmic.
I had a grizzled, old-school Shop teacher who wore black and favored combat boots. On Day One he looked out at a group of kids sitting near power drills and planers and said “These machines can kill you.” While he recounted in gory detail an incident involving a girl’s long hair and a power drill I sat in my little chair and thought “this is exactly why we have those big box stores.” My wife won the debate over who had the best Shop instructor because her teacher was missing half of one thumb.
But the best picture involved Mr Hanjin. He was another ornery old guy teaching at the school, but he had a distinguishing feature that made him the coolest middle school teacher EVER — he had no butt. His backside was completely flat. And the story that floated around was that he had lost his butt in the war.
I know it sounds weird, but I really miss being in Middle School.
I love the stories kids tell to explain things like missing butts.
We didn’t have middle school. We had elementary school up to the eighth grade, then we went right to four years of high school.
Seventh and eighth graders were the school delinquents, of course, especially the eighth graders, who were able to boss the other kids around. Surviving more than seven years in a Catholic school toughened you and earned you some kind of grudging respect.
As a ninth grader, you were a high school freshman. If you were in an all-girl school, like I was, you were expected to behave yourself during school hours, and as a freshman you were at the bottom again.
That was my middle school!
Hey Tom, that photo is upside down. You’re welcome!
Bill Y, you think this picture is upside down? Who has been at the pubs?
Billy knows when he’s been bettered by better people and can only thumbs up this massively. Well done folks, we’ll done. lol