I got a text from Geilfuss last night at about 2:30. In it Geilfuss informed me that Howard from the infamous Get Bent Lounge was screaming that Barack Hussein Obama is not black. And I chuckled about that. For one, I know Howard and when Howard gets going about something, he can be pretty loud and pretty adamant. For another, Howard is a black guy and I'm guessing he doesn't want to be associated in any way, shape, or form with a spectacular failure like Barry.
Back in the halcyon days of early fall 1982, I started school at a place called Northland Academy. For anyone who doesn't know, it was a school located on Cleveland Avenue, just south of Dublin-Granville Rd, about a mile on the right. The school has long been defunct. I think it went under in the late 80s. If you drive by the building today, I'm not sure what you'd see. I know at one point it headquartered some kind of Penny Saver type circular during the 90s. Anyway, the first day I went into the place to be educated, I wasn't nervous or anything like that. I'd describe my attitude as ambivalent. I made my way to the basement part of the building and found the classroom for what the school called 6A. There were 2 6th grade classes. The other was 6B. I quickly figured out that if you were in 6B, the school was basically telling you that you were an idiot. When I met the kids of 6B during recess and then over the course of the next few weeks, it became clear that something wasn't right with most of them. I wasn't aware of it at the time, but I learned later that the school divided the 6th graders into classes based on IQ scores. And I'm basically a moron, but I do test well. If you just look at test results on paper, you'd easily be fooled into thinking that I have a lot going for me mentally. So, as I'm sitting there in 6A that first morning, waiting for the teacher to start in, I kind of looked around me and studied the class for babes. And I can report that there were maybe 2 or 3 girls that you could argue were babes. I walked up to the babe sitting nearest me (a blonde girl whose name I couldn't tell you for the life of me, but who favorably resembled a younger Cheryl Ladd) and said something that must have upset her because within 45 seconds I was asked, by my brand new teacher, Mrs. Crisman, to go to the Principal's office. I have to be the only kid in the history of schools to be sent to the Principal's office before a single class has started. So, I make my way back out of 6A and walk up a couple flights of stairs looking for the Principal's office. I had to ask several folks where the office was. Once I found it, located up on the 3rd floor, I got to meet the Principal, Mr Femia. Now, I assumed that Mr Femia would have no idea who the hell I was or why I'd been sent to his office before the first class on the first day of school. But I was wrong about that. As I got just outside his door, it was like Mr Femia had been expecting me. He said, "Young man, I heard all about you already." I said, "Okay." Mr Femia did not get upset at my sarcasm. Instead of getting upset, he laughed. What ended up happening is that Mr Femia and I had a nice conversation about the respectable way to approach 11 year old girls, and we talked about sports. Mr Femia heard that I might be good at hoops (who told him this, I still am not sure). And Mr Femia liked sports. We ended up becoming buddies. Over the 3 years that I attended Northland Academy, I got sent up to Mr Femia's office pretty often. All we ever did is talk about sports for awhile. Mr Femia would say, "Do you think it's been long enough for Mrs. So And So to calm down?" I'd say. "I sure hope so." Then Mr Femia would say, "Go back to class. And _____, don't be a little prick to Mrs. So And So again today." I'd say, "Gotcha, Mr Femia. I'm golden." Then I'd go back to class, walk in, and whatever teacher had sent me to the office inevitably had an alarming look on her face when she realized that I hadn't been disciplined in the least by Mr Femia. Mr Femia and I used to play hoops at lunch time against 2 other kids from the NA Wildcat hoops squad, Lance Orr & Sanjeev Sant. Lance Orr was our point guard - the kid could distribute the rock, and Sanjeev was our center - he towered over all of us by 3 or 4 inches. The 4 of us would play 2 on 2 from time to time. Always Mr Femia & me against Lance & Sanjeev. The only reason I bring this up is this: one lunch, during a game, I went up for a rebound at the same time Mr Femia did and swung my elbow in such a way that I broke Mr Femia's nose. That's right, I might be the only kid to not only get sent to the Principal's office before I had a single class at a school, I'm also probably the only kid to break the Principal's nose and not get in any trouble for it. Mr Femia wasn't the least bit angry because we beat Lance & Sanjeev that day. It was always a battle when the 2 teams faced off. Lots of close games. But remember, I could drain it. And as we all know in this life, when you can shoot, all sins are forgiven. Some of you might be wondering what it was exactly that I said to that blonde girl that first morning of 6th grade, the remark that got me sent to Mr Femia's office for the 1st time. I'll tell you. What I said to her was this: "Hi. I'm _____. And I can tell you're excited to have me in class with you. The way I can tell is by all the pussy juice running down your thighs."
I mentioned Lance and Sanjeev above. And that got me to thinking about what the hell ever became of the 2 of them. We all went to different schools after 8th grade. I just googled them. Lance is an officer in the US Air Force, which makes sense what with Lance being a point guard and all. And Sanjeev is Dean of Admissions for some law school or something. As far as Mr Femia goes, he'd have to be about 70 now. When you google him, an address does pop up in Columbus on some politics web site. Maybe he's still playing hoops. Who knows? It's interesting because Lance and Sanjeev are pretty successful contributors to our society. And their old hoops teammate, the kid who never saw a shot he didn't like, or take, the kid typing this stupid blog post right this moment, what became of him? It's hard to say exactly. But he's certainly not a positive contributor to our society. I guess 2 out of 3 isn't bad...
Everybody look at you hands
I am out - TBFH
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