My Eighth Grade Journal:

The Spring Musical

Wednesday, March 23 1988

Today, they posted signin sheets for the spring musical, Up Your Wall. Turns out I'm doing it this year, but only because Matt switched the signup titles and I thought I was entering the Dungeons and Dragons Gamers Club. When I went to the first meeting, I said I wanted to be a wizard, and Mrs. Royce said, Well, that's nice, but you're going to be playing the part of Randall, the Concerned Citizen. She gave me the script and I saw I was in a musical and I said this was bullshit. Royce got mad and told me if I didn't show some appreciation for culture and the arts, she'd make me the Flatulent Male Cheerleader instead. When I got home I told my mom what happened, and she said Listen, buster, if your grades are as bad as they were last semester, you won't be doing any musical at all. Then she saw my face, and said, No, I mean if your grades don't pick up, you will be doing that musical! Then I got all confused and she told me to go away. My brother laughed at me when I told him and said I couldn't sing for shit. Then I called Matt and yelled at him, and he laughed at me and said he wanted my autograph. I'm going to get revenge on them all.

Tuesday, March 29 1988

We had our first practice today. Royce asked if I could make a falsetto note, and I said no, but my grandfather has a falsetto teeth. Then she sent me out of the room for a minute. When I came back in, we were learning steps to a number called "Video Game Fever." Andy Richter got to dance with Lori Bundt, who's totally hot, and the whole time he was doing it, he was smirking at me and twirling her around so I could see up her dress. That part I didn't mind so much. But then Royce gave me my first line for the number, and told me I was supposed to say it strong and loud. So I went, "What's wrong with kids today?" Then she told me to do it with more feeling. So I tried, "So what's wrong with kids today?" and she said no, my rhythm is all off. So I went "So what's wrong with kids today?" and she said no, you're not passionate enough. I said that was because I wasn't dancing with Lori, but then Lori heard me and blushed, and everyone else started laughing at me. Royce had to send me home so she could get everyone calmed down again. I swear I'm going to get revenge on them all.

Monday, April 3 1988

Oh God. Got demoted to background chatter today. How humiliating. Instead of taking front stage and projecting something about something being wrong with whoever these days, now I have to stand in the background with that loser Jacob, shake his hand during the big number and watch Andy dance with Lori. Royce said, don't worry about it, this is much less pressure for you. I said I can take pressure. She said Really? and made a sudden motion towards me, and I squealed and hid behind Jacob. She said, Okay, calm down, and then she sent me to go try on my costume. My costume is stupid. It's a Hawaiian shirt with a tan jacket. Who wears those shirts? I look like a geek. One of Lori's friends, Katrina, came up to me and told me Lori liked me. I said Really? and the girl squealed and ran back to her friends and said Oh my God, he believed it! Tomorrow I'll find Katrina's lunch and spike her sandwich with sugar from the cafeteria floor.

Tuesday, April 4 1988

Had to serve a detention today. Principal Johnston caught me in Katrina's lunch. Apparently she's diabetic. I tried to tell him what happened, but I don't think he was listening. When I finished the story he said, Well that's nice, and Who are you again? and Mmmm. Sandwiches. His eyes looked glazed. When I got home, before I could open my mouth, Mom told me she didn't even want to hear about it.

Thursday, April 6 1988

Two days until opening night. I now have a total of three lines: "Kids today"; "That sounds like a plan!" ; and "I've got homework to do." I told Mom and Dad about the show and Mom said, We'll be there. Dad said, How long will it last? and Mom said for him to encourage me. Dad ruffled my hair and said, Good job, kid, I'm proud of you. Mom said, He hasn't done the show yet! and Dad said, Well now's my only chance to feel proud before it actually happens. Mom said, Have a little more faith in him, but I think Dad is onto something. I still can't remember all my lines.

Friday, April 7 1988

At lunch today, Royce asked me if I could say any of my lines. I made it as far as "That sounds like kids today!" and she rolled her eyes and told me to report to the choir room for practice. We drilled the lines for half an hour, but all I could come up with was "I've got a plan for kids" and "Homework today!" Royce said, If you flub this performance, I'll slap you silly. I said What's the big deal? and she said This musical is my ticket out of this dump. George Abbot will be in the crowd tonight and once he sees my talent, good-bye junior high nincompoops. I said, Like me? She said, No. Other nincompoops. I would get revenge on her, but I think the musical will take care of that by itself.

Saturday, April 8 1988

The show started at 7, but we finished early. At 7:35. Royce watched me mouth "Kids...today?" before she yanked me off stage and gave my lines to Russell, the Drama Queen. Andy got caught making out with Jacob backstage, and the two of them got sent home, so I had to take Jacob's part. Which meant I had to shake hands with myself. I thought I'd get to dance with Lori, but she was all like, Eeew, and I told her to stick a cork in it, so I got in trouble again. Every time I was on stage, Matt kept holding up signs from the middle row saying "DOUCHEBAG," and I kept losing my place after I saw it. Mom caught him doing it once and smacked him on the head. Dad kept looking at his watch. After the second act, I went backstage to do my homework so I could get better grades and not have to go through all this again in the fall play. I later found out that George Abbot thought our production of "Up Your Wall" was "somewhat more tolerable than a vasectomy with no anesthesia" so I guess Royce will be at school on Monday. I have to go finish my math now. My test is Monday and Mom is still whaling on Matt downstairs.

My Most Inspirational Teacher Nomination from Last Year

He didn't get it. But he should have. For posterity:

My most inspirational teacher was

…Gustaf Van Cromphout. I had him for Early American and Romantic Literature. He spoke five languages. Threw gobbets around the way I would Simpsons quotes. Could trace a word’s etymology two millennia back without breaking a sweat. But all of this was secondary to his real tool: passion. He made you care. And he cared about his students. He remembered me almost a decade after I had him as an undergraduate. Van Cromphout died three years ago, but before he did, he’d made it clear that death was the only thing that would keep him from teaching.

Pages Ripped from my Old Notebooks: Spring Break 1996

Setting: Cumberland Island, Georgia, on a weeklong camping trip

Todd had been missing for two days, and when we finally found him, he was huddled next to a tree, covering himself with mulch to stay warm. “You could have just slept in the tent last night, you know,” Tso told him.

“Yeah, you’d like that,” Todd hissed through shivering teeth. “I don’t trust you. You’re too handsey when it’s dark. Now get me back to camp before I freeze to death.”

“Fine,” said Tso, pouting over the prospect of a sleeping bag alone. “But now you’re on kitchen duty for the rest of the trip.”

Todd cursed and tried to crawl away so he could freeze to death peacefully instead, but Tso hoisted him up on his back and carried him back. Todd fought valiantly, but when he realized he was stuck doing pots and pans, he gave up and wept bitterly.

I myself had managed to put together a rather impressive still in the woods, and after we imbibed a few pints of my home brew (made from rubbing alcohol, toadstools and flavored lemonade stolen from the trip leaders), I proposed a hiking trip through the wetlands. For much of the journey, I amused myself pummeling Tso in the back of the head with rocks I'd picked up along the way. Tso rolled cigarettes, and Todd smoked and rolled more cigarettes. I threw rocks. Tso threatened me, which hurt my feelings, so I cried and threw more rocks at him. Ah, sweet bird of youth. Nothing like your early friendships.

Ten minutes down the path, we spotted an alligator lying ahead of us. Todd immediately squealed like a six-year-old told she just got free tickets to a Hanson concert and jumped into Tso’s arms. Tso tried not to look pleased at this.

“Maybe we should go around it,” Tso said. “You don't mess with those things.”

I laughed at him since he was an idiot and continued pelting him with rocks. “Nah, if we throw something sharp at it and yell in its ear, the dumb thing will run away and leave us alone. Just watch where you step around him.”

“No kidding, genius,” snarled Todd, stomping off, tripping over the alligator’s tail and breaking three of his teeth. Tso, upon seeing the great beast lift its head, shrieked like a six-year-old girl finding out that the Hanson concert had actually been cancelled because they’d all married a seven-year-old rival, sprawled to the ground and began covering himself with leaves.

(Meanwhile, 1,114 miles away, Dale Carlson sat up on his couch, watching illegally downloaded pornography. “I’m getting a feeling my friends are in danger,” he said to himself. “Like they’re going to get eaten ... Eating. That reminds me. I'm hungry.”)

The F-book post I've been dying for for nineteen years!

"Hi there! I still remember that day long ago when you called for a date and I acted like an idiot. Maybe I can make it up to you now? Be my friend? :)

Yes! Yesss! My moment has come!

"Hi. How you been?"

Ha! Revenge is sweet!

Wait...that's not cutting and cathartic at all...

Dammit!

Vignette # 1216: Florida trip

It's 1998. I'm a first-year teacher on holiday break, traveling to Florida to visit, among other things/people, my aunt and uncle. We've been driving steadily for fourteen hours; Tso has adamantly refused to let me behind the wheel, so I've been whiling the time away grading papers, reading a novel, chainsmoking Marlboros and arguing heatedly about the quality of the upcoming Star Wars prequel. Tso, meanwhile, finds his serenity chainsmoking my Marlboros and dismissing the paperwork I'm currently grading as "not worth a tin shit."

We're both exhausted, but there's no other way to do these goddam trips besides driving straight on through till the morning. The poets call it an experience that will expand your perspective. I call it an experience that makes your ass feel like a piece of granite. This, in fact, will be my last trip to Florida for years, possibly ever. Driving south through the Midwest in winter sucks. Getting into the south, however, is encouraging: the air grows warmer, you start to see palm trees, and suddenly you remember that you're about to see sandy beaches and drink My Tais in outdoor bars while getting chatted up by other tourist pleasure-seekers. Not a bad way to spend your spare time. Oh, there are better ways, to be sure, but we take our comfort where we can find it.

A little after eight in the morning, we pulled into my aunt and uncle's. I haven't seen either of them since they moved down here a year or two ago, and the house immediately impresses me. A mile away from the beach, scrubland surrounding it. Fritz, an expert landscape gardener, has been at work here, and it shows. Later in the day, they will walk us through the surrounding area, showing us where they walk, where they socialize. Another year in the future, Fritz will install an outdoor shower that my grandmother will use, describing the experience as "unique."

"I'm beat," I complain to Tso as he hauls our bags out of the bed of his truck. "How are we going to handle this?"

He shrugs. "They're your family. You tell me."

"Let's just tell them we need to sleep for a while, and that there's a dinner in it for them. I don't think they'll be too bad with that."

"Let's hope so."

We walk up to the front door, and knock. A moment later, my aunt answers us. Visibly pleased. Hugging me. Shaking Tso's hand. She's steady. She's articulate. She looks like she could go teach class herself. Behind her, my uncle walks over. His smile is amiable; his grip is firm. He looks like a man enjoying his retirement immensely.

We spend some time talking about the drive down, but all of us realize this is only banter. The words, "I need to crash for a while; do you mind?" are on my lips when my uncle slaps his hands together.

"What can I get you to drink? We've got several kinds of liquor. Perk you right up."

Tso and I exchanged glances. Well, I think, we are on vacation...

Many drinks later, we're carrying on like it's New Year's Eve. Which it almost is, anyway, and besides, the hell with it, it's a New Year somewhere in the universe, right? No one is outrageously drunk; there's a palpable feel-good atmosphere in the air, and I desperately wish to take some of it and bottle it for the long, cold drive home and the long, cold months of winter ahead. But all of that is in the future, and for now, the present is something I'm wallowing in.

That was the last time I saw my uncle, who passed away yesterday. I wish I could see him one more time. Many more times. I wish I'd made the damn trip down south like I'd always intended to. I wish I wish I wish. Lesson in there, I suppose. Learned too late for my uncle, but at least it was learned.

Here's what happens when you're home on a Saturday night: I found my old elementary school notebook. I've culled a typical week's worth of writing, the kind of pre-blogger fourth grade nothings that make you wince even as you grin. Textual scholars need not read any further:

The Flannel Diaries 1984

September, 1984

Monday, September 2

Today was the first day of school. My teacher is Mrs. Strand. She kept looking at me when she called all our names. I don’t know why. The book I read during class was A Wrinkle in Time. I liked it. Mrs. Strand said not to read during class, so I got in trouble. At lunch, Dave dared me to snort milk up my nose. I dared him back and he did it, but then he choked and almost died. It was funny. Then Mr. Kelley came over and said something mean that we didn’t hear, so we all got in trouble. Then Dave said I was a pussy because I didn’t snort the milk, and he was crying a little, so I left to go read my book.

Tuesday, September 3
Today Mrs. Strand took my book away and said I was supposed to be working on math. I didn’t get the math, so I started to write weird sentences because I was bored. I came up with “My very educated mother just served us nine pimples,” and I showed it to Matt and he started laughing really loud. Then Mrs. Strand yelled at us and we both got in trouble for not doing our math. When I got home, I told my mom what happened, and she said I needed to do math better if I wanted to get full bright, whatever that means.

Wednesday, September 4
Today was my brother’s birthday. He got a bunch of cool GI Joes. He let me play with them while the cheerleaders for his football team came over. They went into his room and played while I got to play with the GI Joes. I can’t believe he just let me keep them like that. What a loser. Matt came over later and we went exploring out in the woods. Mom said not to get our shoes muddy, but we did, so she got mad. Matt swears a lot.

Thursday, September 5
Mrs. Strand got mad at me again today because I was reading another book during Social Studies. She sent me to the back corner of the room for me to cool off, but I said I wasn’t angry and she said, No, not you. I don’t get it. She came back and said, Are you going to start paying attention? I said, Okay. She said, are you even listening to me right now? and I said okay. Then she said, have you been sniffing glue from the art supplies when you were back here, and I said Okay. Mrs. Strand looks red when she gets mad.

Friday, September 6
Fridays are fun because you don’t have to go to bed on time. My brother and I stayed up late watching World Wrestling Federation. My brother said all the wrestling was fake, but it’s cool anyway because all the wrestlers are all buff and can throw eachother around a lot and that’s cool. My brother says he’s going to start lifting weights so he can look as big as a wrestler. I said I wasn’t going to do that because I want to be a ninja and ninjas aren’t that big or they can’t sneak into fortresses and stuff like that. My brother said girls like it when guys are big like that, and I said, but then I couldn’t be a ninja. Then my brother rolled his eyes. I’ve seen him doing that a lot lately.

Sunday, September 8
My mom and my dad made me do homework today. My brother started at ten in the morning and finished before noon, and then he went to go watch the football game. I started at noon and finished at twelve fifteen. I told them I was really smart and that was why I finished it so quick, and then they wanted to see it. My dad said, what’s a fifth of twelve, and I got confused because I thought a fifth was a bottle of bourbon. I said so, and my dad said, don’t get smart with me, mister, I pay the bills around here. Then I said I thought the Bills were a football team, and everyone rolled their eyes like my brother does. Mom made me finish my math homework, and then we all watched King Kong on TV. I don’t think they made any more King Kong movies after that, and I think I want to write one of my own. I want to make King Kong come to our town and trash my school. That would be cool.

Monday, September 9
Mrs. Strand said we were going to be making an insect collection for science class. We have to find twenty different insects, kill them and mount them on a piece of cardboard. Mom made me start when I got home from school, so I went out in the field with a butterfly net and caught insects. Then I killed them. Then I left them on the kitchen table and forgot to put them on the cardboard, so I got in trouble. Matt said he’s going to get his insects from the windowsill. Today, Andy Richter said if I gave him my milk money he wouldn’t punch me in the face. Matt said for me to punch him first, but I gave him the money. I don’t like milk anyway. Mrs. Strand took my glue away from me.

Tuesday, September 10
I got four more dead bugs today and put them in an envelope because I forgot my cardboard. It was gross. Andy told me to give him my money again today, but he didn’t say he wouldn’t hit me, so I didn’t. Then he hit me. Mrs. Strand yelled at him and pulled his ear and made him apologize to me. Then Chris Freeman said Mrs. Strand beat him up and I didn’t, and everybody laughed. So I took my dead bugs and threw them in Chris’s lunch and he cried. That made me feel better. But then I didn’t have any more dead bugs after school so I had to go out and get more.

Thursday, September 12
I got my last dead bugs today. I put them on the cardboard and wrote names underneath them all. My dad saw the project and asked me if I was supposed to put their scientific names under them. I said I thought I was supposed to name them, and that I named them all after the dumb kids at school like Dave, Andy and Chris. My dad said he liked that better. My mom said, don’t encourage him. My brother did seventy pushups today, and I drank three Cokes.

Friday, September 13
Mrs. Strand gave me a D on my insect project. She said I didn’t label them according to kingdom, phylum and class, and I wasn’t supposed to give them people names. I said I didn’t use people names, I used Chris Freeman’s and Andy Richter’s names, and she smiled a little and changed my grade to a C. My mom said it was a dumb project anyway, and that John Steinbeck probably never had to do one either but he turned out okay. We went out to dinner at Port Barrington and my brother and I got a bunch of quarters to play Donkey Kong Junior with while Mom and Dad stayed at the table with the neighbors. I went to go eat the chips on the table, but they turned out to be cigarette butts. It was gross. My brother laughed and I hit him, but I didn’t get in trouble because he didn’t notice.

Except for Matt, who is shameless anyway, all proper names have been changed. Weird how I never refer to my brother by name, isn't it?