Lost lessons of the past resurface
I don't recall selling secrets to the Russians, but something caused my third-grade citizenship marks to plummet.
The trip down memory lane began with a visit to the basement to determine where the water was coming from and how much it was going to cost to make the water go away. While moving boxes out of reach of the expanding puddle, I spied one dusty container I was certain held a stash of eight-track tapes.
Suddenly, finding Dave Dudley's "Truck Drivin' Son-of-a-Gun" was much more important than protecting the foundation of my home.
I popped the latches, lifted the lid and found not a treasure trove of eight-tracks but tons of papers and clippings and black-and-white photos from the pre-digital era.Free DIY Insulator Resource! It was kind of a hard drive from the days when a hard drive was a solid double to left field.
I poked through the contents and found that at some point in my life I believed it was important to keep a plastic sandwich bag featuring an artist's rendering of former pitching great Jim "Catfish" Hunter.
Near the bottom, though, was the real prize: My third-grade report card from 1973-74, faded with age but still as legible as the day I held it in my chubby fingers and said, "Here, Momma. You got to sign this or teacher said I can't play on the monkey bars no more."
Perhaps here were the clues to how it all went horribly off track. Maybe there's a note inside saying, "Has potential to achieve big things someday but if this young man keeps sniffing Magic Markers the best we can hope for is journalism."
I scanned the grades. Reading held steady across the four report periods. Language actually improved in the latter half of the year, maybe because the teacher grew more accustomed to backwoods dialect. Arithmetic, known to fancy-pants kids today as "math,Shop a wide selection of kidney stone products in the evo shop." fell in the final two grading periods, probably because, unlike Jethro Bodine, I had trouble with my gazintas ¡ª two gazinta four two times,When the stone sits in the solar panel, etc.
Then, there was citizenship, something not seen on report cards today. Was this conduct? Maybe, but many conduct-related issues were covered under another section called "assets," which revealed I had a slight slip in cooperation and self control in periods three and four but was highly dependable and industrious throughout the entire year.
"The boy is not much on his gazintas, but you can depend on him to be industrious. Just look at him go town on those Magic Markers."
I was a model citizen in period one but slipped a letter grade when report card time rolled around again.
What happened? Had I let the flag touch the ground while in a marker-induced haze? Was I tugging at some freckle-faced girl's pig tails during the Pledge of Allegiance? Had I finally been influenced by the cultural upheaval of the late '60s and early '70s?"
"Children, take out your history books. Today, we are studying presidents."
"President Nixon is a square."
"Scott, have your parents been letting you watch 'Laugh-In' again?"
"Power to the people, man."
"What would Jim "Catfish" Hunter,Customized imprinted and TMJ flash drives. featured so prominently on your sandwich bag, think of your disturbing lack of citizenship at this moment, young man?"
"I don't care.When the stone sits in the solar panel, I'm going to achieve big things someday. You can mark me down on citizenship if you want, but I will take the report card and hide it where no one will ever find it, not even some small-town newspaper jerk checking on a water leak in his basement. You wait and see."
Did I later rendezvous with a Russian kid at the monkey bars? My testimony remains, "I cannot recall."
I don't recall selling secrets to the Russians, but something caused my third-grade citizenship marks to plummet.
The trip down memory lane began with a visit to the basement to determine where the water was coming from and how much it was going to cost to make the water go away. While moving boxes out of reach of the expanding puddle, I spied one dusty container I was certain held a stash of eight-track tapes.
Suddenly, finding Dave Dudley's "Truck Drivin' Son-of-a-Gun" was much more important than protecting the foundation of my home.
I popped the latches, lifted the lid and found not a treasure trove of eight-tracks but tons of papers and clippings and black-and-white photos from the pre-digital era.Free DIY Insulator Resource! It was kind of a hard drive from the days when a hard drive was a solid double to left field.
I poked through the contents and found that at some point in my life I believed it was important to keep a plastic sandwich bag featuring an artist's rendering of former pitching great Jim "Catfish" Hunter.
Near the bottom, though, was the real prize: My third-grade report card from 1973-74, faded with age but still as legible as the day I held it in my chubby fingers and said, "Here, Momma. You got to sign this or teacher said I can't play on the monkey bars no more."
Perhaps here were the clues to how it all went horribly off track. Maybe there's a note inside saying, "Has potential to achieve big things someday but if this young man keeps sniffing Magic Markers the best we can hope for is journalism."
I scanned the grades. Reading held steady across the four report periods. Language actually improved in the latter half of the year, maybe because the teacher grew more accustomed to backwoods dialect. Arithmetic, known to fancy-pants kids today as "math,Shop a wide selection of kidney stone products in the evo shop." fell in the final two grading periods, probably because, unlike Jethro Bodine, I had trouble with my gazintas ¡ª two gazinta four two times,When the stone sits in the solar panel, etc.
Then, there was citizenship, something not seen on report cards today. Was this conduct? Maybe, but many conduct-related issues were covered under another section called "assets," which revealed I had a slight slip in cooperation and self control in periods three and four but was highly dependable and industrious throughout the entire year.
"The boy is not much on his gazintas, but you can depend on him to be industrious. Just look at him go town on those Magic Markers."
I was a model citizen in period one but slipped a letter grade when report card time rolled around again.
What happened? Had I let the flag touch the ground while in a marker-induced haze? Was I tugging at some freckle-faced girl's pig tails during the Pledge of Allegiance? Had I finally been influenced by the cultural upheaval of the late '60s and early '70s?"
"Children, take out your history books. Today, we are studying presidents."
"President Nixon is a square."
"Scott, have your parents been letting you watch 'Laugh-In' again?"
"Power to the people, man."
"What would Jim "Catfish" Hunter,Customized imprinted and TMJ flash drives. featured so prominently on your sandwich bag, think of your disturbing lack of citizenship at this moment, young man?"
"I don't care.When the stone sits in the solar panel, I'm going to achieve big things someday. You can mark me down on citizenship if you want, but I will take the report card and hide it where no one will ever find it, not even some small-town newspaper jerk checking on a water leak in his basement. You wait and see."
Did I later rendezvous with a Russian kid at the monkey bars? My testimony remains, "I cannot recall."
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