Hello again, Loyal Readers!
In case you didn't notice, I haven't posted in almost a month. I would list a litany of reasons why I haven't done so, but, as a regular reader, I know you won't buy any of them, so I'll let it lie.
So the Summer is over. The kids are back in school. This time of year always reminds me of the school days of my youth.
Oh, how I hated school! I always remember the dread I felt on the day after Labor Day, the clock ticking down on my precious moments of freedom until I had to return to the horrors of academia.
Why did I hate school so? The list I could write would fill volumes, but, as I know time is precious to you, dear reader, I'll just hit the highlights of my problems with my formal education:
• GETTING UP: This is a problem I still struggle with today. I have an easier time rising from my slumber if I'm going to do something fun, like say, visit Disneyland, but getting up to do math problems makes leaving the Land of Nod all the more difficult.
• I WAS MISSING TELEVISION: Sure, I had seen every rerun of "Here's Lucy" several times over, but I was also missing new episodes of "Let's Make a Deal!" and "Match Game" and all the other shows I watched when I should have "been out in the fresh air", during the Summer. What if "Dialing for Dollars" called when I was at school?!
• MY FELLOW STUDENTS: This may come as a shock to you, but as an inept athlete-TAB swilling-chorus member-drama club president, I was sometimes the target of some of my peers' abuse. The bus in particular was a Dickensian nightmare. Oh, how I can (not so fondly) recall the shouted remarks questioning my sexuality, as well as whatever objects that were handy being hurled at the back of my head! Always followed by moronic laughter.
• THE BUS ITSELF: In my elementary school days, our bus driver was a kindly old gent, who kept good control of the rowdies and dressed like Santa during the Holidays. From Junior High on, however, I rode a bus driven by a crusty old broad who drove like a maniac. She had a schedule to keep, and she did so by whizzing through the small back roads of our town at Autoban speeds. Twice she ran over a dog and then loudly proclaimed, "Well, it shouldn't have been out on the street!", then drove away without stopping, while all the girls on the bus sobbed. A great way to start the day!
• THE CAFETERIA CUISINE: Back in my day, a school lunch cost 25ç. You might think a 25ç lunch might be tasty & nutritious. You couldn't be more wrong. It is difficult for me to really nominate the most odious dish served up by cranky old gals with various hairs growing out of various places. Was it the pizza with the ketchup-based sauce served on a crust that tasted like cardboard, or the "sloppy joe"served over an ice-cold lump of instant mashed potatoes?
No, I think the most noxious menu item had to be a regional speciality: "Rice ala Scituate". This side dish, named in honor of our hometown, was a gelatinous scoop of over-cooked rice served
with a pat of what appeared to be someone's idea of what butter/margerine/lard might look/taste like. Just the thought of this dish has set off my gag reflex. You hear all kinds of stories in the media about how kids aren't eating right nowadays. These reports are written by people who never ate "Rice ala Scituate". I would rather my children eat an entire bag of Cheetos for lunch than take one bite of "RAS".
• GYM: Attendance at Gym Class is mandatory in this neck of the woods. What a wonderful way for unathletic kids to demonstrate their ineptitude in front of their entire class! Dodgeball in particular was a wonderful opportunity for the jocks in the class to vent all their frustrations on the small & weak. The Presidential Physical Fitness Test was also fun for those of us who couldn't pass one of the tests.
I could go on and on, but as you may have surmised, I didn't enjoy school too much. The good news? We all survive it, and later we realize that adulthood is exactly the same as school, but with (hopefully) a paycheck.
And for all you kids who are discouraged by this post, remember: Education is like a flaming sword: hold it high and guard it well.
Or see if your Mom will let you be home schooled.