If my family reads this post, I'm sure they're salivating over what they expect to read here - I'll get to my sixth grade spelling bee a little later - for now, a happier time, and a happier story.
Due to all the reading I did (see "The Flower"), I was a pretty good speller. I only remember one spelling bee in first grade - and this is a story about that event.
Schools used to prepare you for the real world a little better than they do now. If you failed, you knew it and so did everybody else. We moved all the desks to the side, and sat down on the floor one behind the other. You stood up to spell your word and success meant sitting back down in your spot. A misspelled word meant the walk of shame. You had to walk past all the sitting kids and watch the rest of the bee from your desk. I did not want to lose, and fortune was on my side.
Three people were left, I remember one of them was Brent Blair, I don't remember number two, and I was the third. We were all spelling the easy words alright, and I think that either the teachers were tired of the bee, or we were coming up on lunch or recess, so they decided to pull out the tricky words. Much to my delight, they pulled out the word "alphabet" -- "How could that be good news?", you might ask?.
Flashback --
Earlier in the week, I was in the library and saw a word that I thought was spelled wrong, so I asked about it. It was elephant. I asked Mr. Dunkley about it, and he educated me about the wonders of the "ph" combination making the "f" sound - as an aside, he mentioned that "alphabet" was another word that was spelled that way.
Unflashback --
I won.
It's funny, how fate and a serendipitous conversation with a librarian can change how others view you and how you view yourself. If it hadn't been for this shot of confidence, there may not even be a sixth grade spelling bee story. Stupid fate. Stupid serendipity.
Soccer is cool!
Monday, September 29, 2008
The Yard Sale
Yard sales?? Really?
Luckily, I love Julie more than I despise yard sales.
Soccer is cool!
Luckily, I love Julie more than I despise yard sales.
Soccer is cool!
Monday, September 22, 2008
The Flower
We're staying in first grade for this one. Mom -- if you can find a picture of this event, send it to me, and I'll add it to give a bit more color to my description.
In order to get us excited about reading, we had a contest to see who could read the most over a month's time frame or so. I'm going to give an account the way my 6-7 year-old brain remembers it, and if I find evidence that I'm exaggerating or understating anything, I'll add a footnote.
I was a good reader (once my mom reads this, she may make me add my first footnote for that statement alone) -- I was stoked to show everybody, too. I had to count the number of books I read, and I remember my mom keeping track of them on a 5" x 8" (or so)notepad, and the way I remember it, you would get credit for a book for every ten pages you read.
I specifically remember reading a book about marine life, and one about some gargoyles and pizza (my favorite book back then, but I can't even remember the title now). All in all, I read over 600 books -- since this seems unlikely, I now believe it may have been over 600 pages. Again, Mom, if you have the certificate -- scan it and I'll be really sad when I have to revise my story down to "just over 60 pages".
They had a big awards assembly where we had to wear our best suit -- problem being that this was the mid-seventies, so there weren't even any good suits. Forest green polyester - far out, man -- sold! We also had to walk arm in arm with one of those soft people (girls). I wasn't really excited about that, but it was still my big night. The governor was going to be there (could have been a city council member who was also the father of one of the kids), and I was pretty sure that the media would be covering the event.
I remember being nervous about hand placement. I was supposed to put my hand over my belly button, and the girl would put her arm through the hole in my arm. I took this VERY seriously, and didn't want to screw it up. I can actually see a manifestation of my thoughts and feelings in the way my nephew, Andrew, currently handles important situations like this one. Serious as a heart-attack and stiff as a board.
I don't remember how they paired up the boys and girls, but I do remember hitting the jackpot -- Tracy Hooton. Dark hair, fair-skinned, and wore a light green dress that would go well with the pimp-daddy polyester I was wearing. She was the belle of the ball and I was the red-headed, freckle-faced, hyper-active and crew-cut date on the end of her arm. I'm sure we both felt pretty lucky.
She was also wearing a flower and -- get this -- perfume. All the boys were suddenly a little hipper to the positive aspects of the soft people. They were lining up to smell her flower - clearly a front to get a little closer, but still be cool.
Not a shabby night. I remember telling people for years that I set a record for the number of books read, and I believed it. In hindsight, 60 pages ain't bad!
Soccer is cool!
In order to get us excited about reading, we had a contest to see who could read the most over a month's time frame or so. I'm going to give an account the way my 6-7 year-old brain remembers it, and if I find evidence that I'm exaggerating or understating anything, I'll add a footnote.
I was a good reader (once my mom reads this, she may make me add my first footnote for that statement alone) -- I was stoked to show everybody, too. I had to count the number of books I read, and I remember my mom keeping track of them on a 5" x 8" (or so)notepad, and the way I remember it, you would get credit for a book for every ten pages you read.
I specifically remember reading a book about marine life, and one about some gargoyles and pizza (my favorite book back then, but I can't even remember the title now). All in all, I read over 600 books -- since this seems unlikely, I now believe it may have been over 600 pages. Again, Mom, if you have the certificate -- scan it and I'll be really sad when I have to revise my story down to "just over 60 pages".
They had a big awards assembly where we had to wear our best suit -- problem being that this was the mid-seventies, so there weren't even any good suits. Forest green polyester - far out, man -- sold! We also had to walk arm in arm with one of those soft people (girls). I wasn't really excited about that, but it was still my big night. The governor was going to be there (could have been a city council member who was also the father of one of the kids), and I was pretty sure that the media would be covering the event.
I remember being nervous about hand placement. I was supposed to put my hand over my belly button, and the girl would put her arm through the hole in my arm. I took this VERY seriously, and didn't want to screw it up. I can actually see a manifestation of my thoughts and feelings in the way my nephew, Andrew, currently handles important situations like this one. Serious as a heart-attack and stiff as a board.
I don't remember how they paired up the boys and girls, but I do remember hitting the jackpot -- Tracy Hooton. Dark hair, fair-skinned, and wore a light green dress that would go well with the pimp-daddy polyester I was wearing. She was the belle of the ball and I was the red-headed, freckle-faced, hyper-active and crew-cut date on the end of her arm. I'm sure we both felt pretty lucky.
She was also wearing a flower and -- get this -- perfume. All the boys were suddenly a little hipper to the positive aspects of the soft people. They were lining up to smell her flower - clearly a front to get a little closer, but still be cool.
Not a shabby night. I remember telling people for years that I set a record for the number of books read, and I believed it. In hindsight, 60 pages ain't bad!
Soccer is cool!
Sunday, September 21, 2008
The Contest
I'm a Seinfeld fan. You should know that. Because of that, I have decided to change my blog entry naming convention to match that of Seinfeld episodes. So from now on, the blog will be named "The [something]".
I've decided to make the next few entries about the most memorable experiences in my elementary school years. If you are a fan of the show, you may enjoy the irony inherent in the fact that "The Contest" is about a first grade experience.
I can't remember what key learning we were supposed to take away from this fall activity, but I'll bullet point my thoughts once I'm done. This is the way "The Contest" went down from my first grade viewpoint.
The assignment was:
Catch a bug
Make sure that it's a really good, fast bug
All bugs will be put into the middle of a circle, the first bug out of the circle wins
Lucky for me we had a grasshopper farm in our neighborhood. It wasn't too far a walk either, as it was located between the back of our house and the back fence and was bordered by the two side fences. Some of the best and fastest bugs in the state were found here -- I was pretty sure I was going to win. The hunt was exhausting, and many hoppers were caught and summarily dismissed upon closer examination when they fell short of my size, speed, and/or spunk requirements. I finally found the winner. It wasn't the best I'd seen, but I figured it was good enough to win against the chump bug-catchers in my class.
I put him in the requisite mason jar with the grass/weeds for food (pretty much Wheaties for bugs) and the holes in the lid. I remember being very concerned that there would be controversy when my bug won, and some other kid claimed that it was actually his bug. Something had to be done. I'd love to give credit where it's due, but I can't remember whether it was Mom or Dad that came up with the idea to put fingernail polish on the abdomen (the last part of the bug along with the head and thorax -- I think I just figured out what we were supposed to be learning). The fingernail polish was somewhere between red and hot pink -- very distinctive, problem solved.
The inspecting of the athletes took place outside the doors to our classrooms before school started. There are two memories of note here. First, there was a group of guys playing catch with a football. At first this may seem benign, but to my hyper-competitive mind, these guys were CLEARLY not taking things seriously enough. No pep talks, no checking out the competition, no last minute strategy adjustments -- very good news.
Secondly, there was Curtis Adkins. I didn't know Curtis very well, but his reputation as a very smart kid preceded him. It was this reputation that really had me questioning my strategy when I saw what he brought. He had a red, cylindrical container (kind of looked like a flashlight body), and his competitor was right there in the bottom. You had to look really hard to see him, though, because he was an ANT. I thought I had clearly missed the boat, because the smart kid brought a freakin' ANT -- what was I missing?!?! Turns out that either Curtis was no where near as smart as people thought, just forgot about the assignment and caught the first thing he saw on the way to school, or was so much smarter than I was because he saw the humor in bringing an ant. I'll never know, Curtis moved before we hit second grade.
So Curtis didn't win. Sean didn't win either - devastating, but I learned some pretty important things:
Catch your bug on the day of an event - they lose a lot of their spunk overnight
Mark your bug (I still think it was a smart move!)
Not everybody sees everything as a competition - and they'll probably live longer
Soccer is cool!
I've decided to make the next few entries about the most memorable experiences in my elementary school years. If you are a fan of the show, you may enjoy the irony inherent in the fact that "The Contest" is about a first grade experience.
I can't remember what key learning we were supposed to take away from this fall activity, but I'll bullet point my thoughts once I'm done. This is the way "The Contest" went down from my first grade viewpoint.
The assignment was:
Catch a bug
Make sure that it's a really good, fast bug
All bugs will be put into the middle of a circle, the first bug out of the circle wins
Lucky for me we had a grasshopper farm in our neighborhood. It wasn't too far a walk either, as it was located between the back of our house and the back fence and was bordered by the two side fences. Some of the best and fastest bugs in the state were found here -- I was pretty sure I was going to win. The hunt was exhausting, and many hoppers were caught and summarily dismissed upon closer examination when they fell short of my size, speed, and/or spunk requirements. I finally found the winner. It wasn't the best I'd seen, but I figured it was good enough to win against the chump bug-catchers in my class.
I put him in the requisite mason jar with the grass/weeds for food (pretty much Wheaties for bugs) and the holes in the lid. I remember being very concerned that there would be controversy when my bug won, and some other kid claimed that it was actually his bug. Something had to be done. I'd love to give credit where it's due, but I can't remember whether it was Mom or Dad that came up with the idea to put fingernail polish on the abdomen (the last part of the bug along with the head and thorax -- I think I just figured out what we were supposed to be learning). The fingernail polish was somewhere between red and hot pink -- very distinctive, problem solved.
The inspecting of the athletes took place outside the doors to our classrooms before school started. There are two memories of note here. First, there was a group of guys playing catch with a football. At first this may seem benign, but to my hyper-competitive mind, these guys were CLEARLY not taking things seriously enough. No pep talks, no checking out the competition, no last minute strategy adjustments -- very good news.
Secondly, there was Curtis Adkins. I didn't know Curtis very well, but his reputation as a very smart kid preceded him. It was this reputation that really had me questioning my strategy when I saw what he brought. He had a red, cylindrical container (kind of looked like a flashlight body), and his competitor was right there in the bottom. You had to look really hard to see him, though, because he was an ANT. I thought I had clearly missed the boat, because the smart kid brought a freakin' ANT -- what was I missing?!?! Turns out that either Curtis was no where near as smart as people thought, just forgot about the assignment and caught the first thing he saw on the way to school, or was so much smarter than I was because he saw the humor in bringing an ant. I'll never know, Curtis moved before we hit second grade.
So Curtis didn't win. Sean didn't win either - devastating, but I learned some pretty important things:
Catch your bug on the day of an event - they lose a lot of their spunk overnight
Mark your bug (I still think it was a smart move!)
Not everybody sees everything as a competition - and they'll probably live longer
Soccer is cool!
Monday, September 15, 2008
Thing 3
When I was in kindergarten, I very distinctly remember one event (and my cute teacher Mrs. Coil).
We had to stand outside until the teachers would let us in the building. (Yeah, kids used to have to stand out in the cold -- we all lived through it, too.) I thought it would be pretty impressive if I was able to climb the little fence that separated the evergreen bushes from the little cement step in front of the glass doors. Can you imagine? A kid who can climb a 3 foot fence!?! Now that is something that is sure to impress the fellas, and that the girls would like to see.
As it turns out, it might have been a lot more impressive if I had actually cleared the obstacle. I got to the top and caught the crotch part of my pants on the sharp "Y" that used to exist on the top of chain-link fences. I lost my balance, fell over the other side, and the fabric of my pants ripped from the crotch area all the way down my leg.
On the one hand:
Sharp metal stuck into my pants at the CROTCH, ripped all the way down my leg -- nary a scratch. I was very, very lucky.
On the other hand:
The best pants-fixing technology available at the school was a stapler and masking tape that had to be applied by the aforementioned cute teacher to my kindergarten crotch area. Not great.
The moral of the story:
If it is ever claimed that I am unimpressive, maybe that's because I learned my lesson on a cold winter day in my kindergarten year. Good night and God bless.
Soccer is cool!
We had to stand outside until the teachers would let us in the building. (Yeah, kids used to have to stand out in the cold -- we all lived through it, too.) I thought it would be pretty impressive if I was able to climb the little fence that separated the evergreen bushes from the little cement step in front of the glass doors. Can you imagine? A kid who can climb a 3 foot fence!?! Now that is something that is sure to impress the fellas, and that the girls would like to see.
As it turns out, it might have been a lot more impressive if I had actually cleared the obstacle. I got to the top and caught the crotch part of my pants on the sharp "Y" that used to exist on the top of chain-link fences. I lost my balance, fell over the other side, and the fabric of my pants ripped from the crotch area all the way down my leg.
On the one hand:
Sharp metal stuck into my pants at the CROTCH, ripped all the way down my leg -- nary a scratch. I was very, very lucky.
On the other hand:
The best pants-fixing technology available at the school was a stapler and masking tape that had to be applied by the aforementioned cute teacher to my kindergarten crotch area. Not great.
The moral of the story:
If it is ever claimed that I am unimpressive, maybe that's because I learned my lesson on a cold winter day in my kindergarten year. Good night and God bless.
Soccer is cool!
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