Hide and Seek…..

Love(d) this game. Who needed athletic prowess? Ingenuity was all it took. Mebbe notta sole on the planet who hasn’t partaken in some fashion of Hide and Seek….. Hide and Seek is about “the day”… “the who”… “the where”…”the age’”.. “the fun.” Long after the dinner bell, the whiffle ball games, church (Victor, you never went to church as a kid).. Bite me!… the chores……..YIPPEE! Time for Hide and Seek!

God Bless growing up next door to the Flanigans (9 kids). Hell, if only half of ‘em wanted to play – still, a decent game. Certain we all have the rosters of yesteryear tucked away proudly in our brain… Strangely, the black and white pics from back then are so colorful now…

Different versions.. different rules.. same special memories…….

Will never forget my son’s first game of hide & seek, indoors – right around age 4. Mebbe 5 of his cousins over… first time he hid, he knelt by the sofa, placed a blanket over the top of his head… hehe.. WELL! He couldn’t see THEM!..

Do kids play hide and seek nowadays? I don’t see ‘em outside. Too bad. Victor, that sounded old. That I am. But, ne’er too old for a great game of Hide and Seek. I think I mentioned not long ago… here in cubicle world at work, you can normally hear about 8-10 folks nearby on the phone. One day…

(Sorry, that paragraph was getting long… I’m old, weird.. figured time to start anew).. One day at work, I overhear my very good friend Mary T speaking into the phone “Oh yes, that would be a question for Vic Schultze… hang on justa second, I’ll go ask him”.. YIPPEEE! I getta play hide and seek again! Under my desk I went… All two hunnerd pounds ‘mostly’ tucked up under… soon… giggles is all I hear.. HA! I won I won! Victor, will you ever grow up? Nope, nada, no. Never.

Bar with outtta town cousin, here in my stomping grounds. A rare happening (so, being together was wonderful, truly. ) Walked in, first thing “Victor, where’s the women’s restroom?” Huh? “Yeah, THAT’S where you sit.” So, another twist to the game of Hide and Seek, grumpy ole single men style.

There’s also, at work, some immature idiot that likes to shoot rubber bands over the tops of the cubicle walls in hope of shock value. He’s got quite a collection of rubber bands, and if he runs out, all he’s gotta do it walk up to the Document Control Window (we’re paperless now too, btw) and ask for anudder handful! One day, this dude shot one at his supervisor – and shortly after doing so, ducked, ran out to smoke. Hide and seek.

When I got back from my smoke… er.. I mean when this immature idiot got back from his smoke, he got back on task, which meant left hand on coffee cup, right hand on mouse. Mouse wasn’t cooperating. No arrow. No clicky. Plugged in? Yep. Power? Yep. Dust in it? Dunno, lemme turn it over. A one inch by one inch note “April Fools” taped up under. I loved it. Late fitties, still enjoying Hide and Seek.

Hanging on to yesterday for fear of today/tomorrow? I don’t give a rats. Color me A Christmas Story, The Breakfast Club, Stand By Me, Ferris Buehler’s Day Off, American Grafitti.. Hide and seek until the day I keel.

Ally ally in free. Love, Victurd.

Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.

There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy.

Love truly is a many splendored thing. I’ve heard of a family, over the years, they never dared uttering “the L word” amongst each other. I understand there IS love within, just baby trouble expressing so. Kinda sad.

There's nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you
in time - It's easy.

I’m a huge fan of the word love. And I don’t just mean the “oh baby oh baby” kinda love. I mean daily love. Love of people, love of animals, love of life, work, events, and all within. Sure, ‘tis cool to scoff at rose colored glasses – I don’t care. Smiling gets me thru the day.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
All you need is love, all you need is love,

Article in the paper yesterday.. some guy didn’t like the way another guy looked at him, so he pulled out his Exacto and sliced him a few times. Geez. I think he missed having love in his life – or – wouldn’t allow it in. No comprende constant anger. Persistent bickering. Having 55 happy minutes every hour, and bemoaning the crappy five.

All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.

Victor, so you’re this highfalutin marvel who does everything perfectly eh? Borrowing from my fun stepson “Not no’s, but hells no’s”.. I DO love people. I DO love life. Being an old single fart ain’t the easiest part in the comedy of life – thus, I very very much try to focus on love… insteada hate, anger, loud, prejudice, partisan, that stuff.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
All you need is love (all together now)
All you need is love (everybody)
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.

Life ain’t perfect – that we all know. I’m in love with it though. Bumps in the road no matta what you drive. I love my family. I love my job (I have work at fun). I love my friends. (Ok, admittedly not real fond of Gladys Cravats next door, so I try not to thinka her, unless I’m shooting darts).. I love you…. and you…. and that… and this… and those.. .and them.. (Here’s the part where Victor tells you “I ain’t preaching.. I write to myself.. hitchhikers welcome”) I encourage usage of the word love. To family, sure. To friends, absolutely. To the weather. To the situation. To the outlook. All you need is love, love, love is all you need. Love, Victurd.

I don’t repeat gossip….. so listen close the first time…

Yes, all ears perked. We’ve all been there… “Did you hear about so-and –so?”… And, apologies Father, I’ve admittedly been there too. Color me guilty as charged too. In fact, just yesterday, emailed two’a my bestest buds about “the latest” trials, tribulations of a common friend – and, (Victor, are you gonna try to JUSTIFY gossiping?) this friend perty much ‘earned’ our right to gossip about said friend. (Mebbe.)

Wiki, I understand, is “by we, the people”, so, therefore, it bears fault. I was perty astonished though as I read portions where it kinda-sorta praised gossip: “Helps individuals learn social information about other individuals in the organization (often without even having to meet the other individual)… Inform individuals as to what is considered socially acceptable behavior within the organization…Builds social networks of individuals by bonding co-workers together and affiliating people with each other.” REALLY?? In Wiki defense – it did list cancerous examples of gossip too…

Thought fun, another example of gossip I found online.. “One manager I know decided she was going to stamp out gossip. She called a meeting and scolded the group, “I won’t tolerate this constant gossiping,” she said. “If I catch anyone gossiping they are going to have to answer to me.” All the team members sat around the table and no one spoke. As soon as the meeting was adjourned, they all went back to their desks and started sending emails to each other about the meeting; some talked in the rest room and others in the break room. In other words, the manager didn’t wipe out gossip—she just drove it deeper underground. And she gave them something new to gossip about!” After the meeting the manager prolly whispered into the ears of the assistant manager “there, that oughta stop the lil’ bastards.” HA!

Whilst I have been guilty – gossip does tend to make me uncomfy. It makes ya think “hmmm.. if that person is talking about that other person… then I wonder if they talk about me too when I ain’t around?” Who gossips with you will gossip of you.

There’s that situation where you walk around the corner, or, in our glorious now-cubicle-world, you walk into the cubicle… two are talking (purposely) SO low that only their ears can hear. YUCK! UNCOMFY. STOP-IT-DAMNIT! Even worse if they suddenly DO stop talking. Uh oh, it’s about me!

Gossip helps entertain us as we await the long lines of Piggly Wiggly. For whatever reason, we’re enthralled with “the latest scoop” on celebs – and thankfully, we take it “for whatever it’s worth.” Many a rich magazine mogel though..

I, personally, love men’s restrooms in dirty old, skanky bars. Hehe. I DO! I won’t repeat anything here though (I now have young relatives as friends on FB… DAMNIT!.. [no, not damnit they’re my friends…. it’s just that now I have to tone down my gossi… er.. wording].)

The old classroom experiment where the teacher has all the kids seated in a circle.. she whispers a three sentence long statement into the ears of the first kid… who then tries to repeat/whisper it to the one sitting next to them – and so on, so forth, around the circle until the final kiddo stands up to repeat what (gossip?) was handed down – and it’s always remarkably different from the beginning statement. I reckon same goes for gossip. So-and-so slept with so-and-so turns into “yeah… they’ve had 12 kids together.. hadn’t you heard?”

Personal vendetta gossip. To me, hearing this go on is about as exciting as watching the weather channel. It’s reinforcement for the teller, and music to go to sleep by for me. Patooey. Clam-it biotch (with apologies to my young relatives who are now my FB friends…. Uncle Victor is really a nice old man, and normally that sumbitch rarely cusses.)

I will now go… listen… expect.. happens… Gossip, apparently, has it’s place in this world. If it didn’t, it’d be shelved like Fonzie, Rubik’s cube, Gumby, the Ouija board, and Betty Boop.

Time to leave.. Go take on the day. Say? Did you hear what that creepy Dr. Laura did? Ohhh… nevermind.. (Thankfully, there’s a POSITIVE form of gossip too… where you say “Did you hear about so-and-so?” And then follow with the good deed, job well done, atta boy/girl thingy they’ve accomplished… YAY!)

Will Rogers even once chimed in on gossip… “Live that you wouldn’t be ashamed to sell the family parrot to the town gossip.” Happy day, love Victurd.

Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.

I keep hearing you're concerned about my trips to The Dish
All that thought you're giving me is really kinda the pits...
If I were walking in your shoes, I wouldn't fret a bit..
While you/your friends worry 'bout me, I smoke, laugh, drink and sit..

Counting flowers on the wall,
That don't bother me at all.
Playing Solitaire till dawn,
With a deck of fifty-one.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now, don't tell me I've nothing to do.

Last night I dressed in jeans and t-shirt, I was on the town.
As long as I can walk, you'll never slow this codger down.
So please don't give a thought to me, I'm really doing well.
You can usually find me there, right around the dinner bell.

Counting flowers on the wall,
That don't bother me at all.
Playing Solitaire till dawn,
With a deck of fifty-one.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now, don't tell me I've nothing to do.

Well, it's good to see you, you must know, and I know I look a sight..
Anyway it’s my selection, my direction, and also simply my right..
I hurt no one, mean no harm, if I talk about you I’m discrete.
So I must go back to my abode and make my day complete.

Counting flowers on the wall,
That don't bother me at all.
Playing Solitaire till dawn,
With a deck of fifty-one.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.

Now, counting flowers on the wall,
That don't bother me at all.
Playing Solitaire till dawn,
With a deck of fifty-one.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now, don't tell me I've nothing to do.

Don't tell me I've nothing to do.

Igneous, Sedimentary, Metamorphic…..

Victor, you’ve got rocks in your head. Crazy/nuts. A blog about rocks? They’ll be sleeping in no time. Don’t care. Me likes rocks. All kinds.

Yes, types of rock. I love rock. Not only the actual physical thingy of rock – so, so beautiful – so Godlike.. The marvel of a place like Marvel. The wonder of the Grand Canyon… Gibraltar.. Alcatraz.. So so many and vibrant colors.. a peaceful stream with rocks that have rounded over time.. sands of the ocean – particles of hard broken rock… . "Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church"--Gospel According to Matthew

Rock. As in rock and roll.. Like many of us, from the 60’s.. Like many of us, our beginnings were formed in the 40’s and 50’s.. rhythm & blues, country, folk, classical… Extended into folk rock, soft rock, hard rock, progressive rock, punk rock. Even further, alternative rock, indie rock. I love rock and roll, so put another dime in the jukebox baby. Do we/are we pay(ing) now for rocking so much then? Don’t care, nuttin’ like the rockin’ 60’s, and there never will be. Rock and roll hall of fame decade.

The days of the poor bassmaster in his small aluminum hulled jon are virtually gone. Bigger is better. Super-sized (Thanks Ray Crock).. Hummer-like. Bigass boats rule our lakes, oblivious to their rocking the boats around them. Having the boat rocked is hell upon the stomach. Eerie, unsafe feel. To rock the boat - Don't rock the boat baby - Rock the boat - Don't tip the boat over - Rock the boat - Don't rock the boat baby - Rock the boat.

Rocking the boat also brings us kids that get in trouble at school… Marrieds who find themselves in courtrooms.. Workers banished, unemployed.. .. Friends, unfriended. Criminals jailed.

Rock is a descriptor. You rock. That rocks. Like a rock. He’s a rock in our community, a pillar. We had a great time, it literally rocked. I love this descriptor as it truly feels as if it comes from the heart. What better to hear than “she rocks”, “you rock”, “it rocked, we had a great time.” Memories formed.

Steady. Like a rock, I was strong as I could be..
Like a rock, nothin' ever got to me… Like a rock, I was something to see.. Like a rock… Turn on your light.. and stay with me awhile.. and ease your worried mind.. turn on your light now baby.. and stay with me awhile.. and rock steady yeah…

Chuckin’ rocks as a kid. Skimmin’ the water – who can get the most skips? Rock candy. Colory, yummy. Rock/crackheads. No thanks.

Quartz, pebbles (and Bam Bam, the Flintstones.. Bedrock).. Slate, Coal, Scoria, white marble, gravel, granite, limestone, chalk, flint, all gems.

That’s it. Just a brief rock query before I get back to task, start the day at the rock quarry. Victor, you’ve got rocks in your head. Crazy/nuts. A blog about rocks? They’ll be sleeping in no time. Don’t care. Me likes rocks. All kinds.

Rock, paper, scissors anyone? Rock on….. Love, Victurd

Occupied.

Very interesting word. Today, for me, it meant traversing thru the life and times of Hank Williams on youtube and wiki. Sad. Such talent, taken too soon. Spina bifida ‘helped him’ occupy much of his time with alcohol and drugs.

Reserved. Engaged. At work, when I phone companies and vendors across the land.. I get the infamous “Who’s calling please?”… This, is the determent of whether or not the other end is ‘occupied’. I’ve used: Al Gore.. Tom Cruise… Bob Dylan.. Lynyrd Skynyrd. Works. Suddenly they come to the phone, mostly with certain S-eatin’ grin wondering just whointhehell it is on the other end. Me no likey when folks are judgmental about whether or not anuther is worthy of their time. The disdain of it all occupies too mucha my time when making those calls.

Friend… Somewhere around July 4th, recently returned from mission in an ‘occupied’ country wrote “It is so good to be home, I will never take water, no soldiers with machine guns on the streets everywhere, and freedom for granted. This 4th of July will have extra meaning.” Very nice Kay. Me thinks we don’t occupy enough of our own time realizing just how damn good we got it here.

Life happens. Would love to have been onea the ones to emulate/follow the path of my parents/grandparents.. Boo-koo years, same mate, same bed, occupied by same person all those years. Oh well. Can’t let that sit on the brain to stew. Then, for fun… other day, grabbed a piecea paper and started writing all the names of those that at one time or anuther “occupied the passenger seat” throughout my lifetime.. Still, woulda loved the first way, but.. after looking at the list (and it’s unfortunate length) I thought to myself “S and shinola.. in a way, that’s pretty cool.”

The grass to be mowed, clothes to be washed, the blower fan on my car that ain’t working .. them things I should be tending to – yet – occupy my time here. Stressy, ain’t getting stressy about it. Thank you youtube, Facebook, Wiki, Sudoku, The Dish, Corner, work (I love my occupation), friends, family, MU, Royals, Chiefs, Liberty, KCFX, KMBC… lot that occupies me..

Friday night. Computer "terminal". Oh shit. NOW WHAT? How do I occupy my time? WalMart. El cheapass emachine brand (don’t care… long as it gets dot-com). Yessir, I’ll have to getya one from the back. Ten minutes later, kind young man comes back, nuttin’ occupying his arms “I’m very sorry sir.. we have to get a manager to come open the electronics cage.. it’s kind of a game.” Bastard was occupied I guess. Finally, twenty minutes surpassed. Hard for me to demonstrate onea those “arm on hip, elbow extended, lookin’ down over the toppa my glasses LISTEN TO ME DAMNIT” looks.. but did.. at Customer Service Counter. Older lady, very nice.. Filled (occupied?) with Customer Service... immediately walked back, opened cage. Did make me wonder what was occupying the time of the original manager they tried to fetch.

Saturday… sweat.. cigs.. several hours of trying to get online to no avail occupied my time.. Finally, called AT&T. (“Please call technical support”).. Did. The next five minutes occupied taking to very smart machine that recorded my name, address, phone number, account number, last 4 of Social, and I think mebbe that list of all them women that rode shotgun.. can’t remember..

Then, got warm body on other end. “This is so and so with AT&T, how may I help you today?” YES! YES!. Explained “new computer, won’t lemme access internet (oh, and that I was behind on my bill, got that crap caught up) and that it’s SO GOOD to finally have a warm body on the other end. ”What message are you getting?.. Give me a moment.. I’ll try to help.” Then, I think she musta went on a date with that first WalMart manager that was beckoned ‘cause (sorry to my relatives for my language) the bitch never came back to the phone.

Five more minutes.. time occupied by ashtray almost overflowing.. scrabble (thanks to cheapass emachines freebies).. “This is so and so with AT&T, how may I help you today?” WHAT? I gotta do this allover again? (not very good at “arm on hip, elbow extended, lookin’ down over the toppa my glasses LISTEN TO ME DAMNIT”). Lady was a jewel. Occupied with me for ten minutes, reset modem/password… FINALLY… YEAH! CONNECTED!

I’m a customer service freak. Occupies my time, LOVE seeing/giving good customer service. HATE when it goes the other way.

Turning, I’ve been labeled to exhibit “avoidance behavior”, and si, I love being old, stingy, doing whatinthehell I want wheneverIwanna. Occupied sometimes without getting on task, doing things needing done (“The grass to be mowed, clothes to be washed, the blower fan on my car that ain’t working”)…

Love the word occupied. Love what occupies my life. Sure, wish passenger seat was occupied, but ain’t gonna let that occupy all my time. Stingy I am. Have fun occupying whatever you’re occupying. Love, Victurd.

Population 8909... Small town.....

Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Prob'ly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities

Well, not wholly true.. Was born in a big town (St. Louie).. 19 homes by age 9, when finally landed here, in this hometown, small town. Father chased every better paying job. Announced shortly thereafter “here we go again.” Sister, entrenched in HS as a Soph in this small town, thankfully, pitched hissy. Been here ever since.

All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity

I love Liberty, my small town. Close enough to The Big City, employment to be had. Fun/culture to find. Serenity upon return. The City of trees. Turn of the century homes. One way streets leading from West edge, to East side, the beautiful Liberal Arts college - and back to the West. Good, good people 'tween.

Educated in a small town
Taught to fear Jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another born romantic that's me

I can’t imagine NYNY.. LA.. Phoenix.. Chicago.. Going to the Piggly Wiggly with no hope of seeing anyone you know. Small town getting bigger. Usedta wave at approximately every third car. Nuh uh, not now - yet, it’s somehow kept it’s small town charm.


But I've seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an L.A. doll and brought her to this small town
Now she's small town just like me

Again, not wholly true. Got me one from Independence. She took off for a bigger town, prolly had nuttin’ to do with me huh? Ha! Second one. Same small town.. Well, you know small towns.. We now reside one on the Southa enda this small town, one on the North. Hope she still enjoys this small town.

No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be

So, so many wonderful people over the years. The ones we grew up with.. The ones I went to college with that came for four years (Ok, some of us more) and loved our small town too during that time.

Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look who's in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and that's good enough for me

Small town is comfy. Familiar. You know what you’ll get, day in, day out. Good people (not that there ain’t good people in big towns.. It’s just a camaraderie kinda thing that I’ve grown to love.).. You can run onta one ya ain’t seen in twenty years, and presto, it’s 1965 again. Smiles. Laughs. Sharing. Indulging. Enjoying. Yesteryear is with us daily in the backa our minds - so mebbe, kinda keeps us young. (Fear of aging/being nomadic, or enjoyment of living/remembering the wonderful past, will let you decide.)

Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And that's prob'ly where they'll bury me

Again, mostly true. Burn me though. A bitta ashes on the City Park ballfield - so, so, so, so many small town memories there (and, thank the Good Lord at age fitty-seven), continuing to make ‘em. Mebbe a sprinkle at the college.. The yarda that place I grew up in. Mebbe a pinch in the old cemetary, many a fun hour there walking hounds.. I’m all about this small town. Finish dumping the bottle at the old High School.

Sure, wonder what life woulda been like some out there from our small town that’ve wandered to CA, Illinois, TX, AZ, WA, Central/Eastern MO, you name it. Me, I still love this small town. Hindrance to growth? Thankyouverymuch, but, this small town has given me so much laughter, fun, trust me, I’ve grown hella DEEP arcs from the corners of my mouth that arc up toward the nose. (Big town technical name for that is “Nasolabial Folds”, I much prefer to call it small town fun that I’ve had. Small town growth. Gonna die in the small town. My choice. Thank you Vanda for throwing that baby hizzy back in 1961.

Give me Liberty or give me…….. never mind. Think I’ll stay here awhile. Good Lord willin’.
Happy town to you, no matta the size, Love, Victurdsimpleton.

Friday the 13th.................. Jason

Jason was a full head taller than all of his first grade classmates. It was fairly obvious, observing his dress, his family didn’t have a lot of money. I ain’t real sure why I said that because it didn’t/doesn’t matter to me, just trying to give you an eyeball of the kid.

Redheaded with freckles. <- Now if you get judgmental on that one I’LL be pissed because I’M READHEADED WITH FRECKLES!

I taught Elementary PE back in the dinosaur days. Twas before the days children were overanalyzed and Ritalin was the answer for everything. “We don’t know, but give him that and he won’t disrupt anymore.”

Many days Jason forgot to take his meds, and he was a holy terror. He’d pick and pull a kid’s shirt/belt/pants/shoestrings just to try to get a rise. The smart kids learned to ignore him - the weak ones were brought to tears.

I was pretty proud to finally have my degree, to follow in the footsteps of many of my life role models and become a teacher/coach. All that money, all that studying (Ok, an ordinate amount of partying too) I’d finally made it. “Mr. Schultze, we’d like to offer you the position of Elementary PE teacher.” YES, YES, YES. “I have to do WHAT? RECESS DUTY?”

Yes, recess duty. Turned out to be fun. The classroom with it’s stringent rules can stymie folks. There’s learning to be had at recess too. Social interaction, being a teammate, how to be a friend, and how to make a friend.

Then there was Jason. Not a great combination. A kid that got his name called 42 times daily for many degrees of “no-no” types of behavior --- and me, the wet behind the ears “howinthehell do I manage all these kids at once” guy.

Jason had me figured out. I couldn’t ignore his behaviors like his smart classmates for I was responsible for everyone’s behavior and everyone’s safety. I will never forget the time I had allowed Jason to push me to the brink of “whatinthehell was I thinking, I shoulda gone into Horticulture.” The 7th time I’d called his name that day at recess, he refused my demand to
“C-MERE!” Why you little turd….. I’m gonna get you… and I started to chase (NO, you didn’t? Yes, sadly I did) the little bastard.

Jason made it inside the school’s door before I could catch him… He’d managed to grab the long bar across the middle of the door, and there I was on the outside looking in having a tugging match with a first-grader (NO, you really weren’t were you? Yes, sadly I was.) He’d gotten the best of me - and he had done that to me and tons of others fairly routinely.

About my third month in my position, I was finally getting it down. If they didn’t come into my “classroom” (the gym) quietly and in a line, find their little X on the floor to mark their designated seat…… then they’d go back outside the gym and do it allover again - thus taking away precious “run like crazy, have a blast” minutes of PE class.

As I awaited Jason’s class to enter - I’d made up my mind I wasn’t going to penalize this specific entire class for Jason’s antics --- they had suffered through that too many times. Here they come. Nice…. Quiet… in line… now all safely seated on “their spot.” Jason’s spot was right in front of me.

AND, I’d finally learned Jason pretty much just wanted attention. Yes, I read into that his home life wasn’t good - but that too was pretty judgmental, and I hate being that. So, short of burning the damn school down - I WASN’T GOING TO GIVE JASON THE PLEASURE OF ADMONISHMENT. NO MATTA WHAT HE DOES/SAYS, huh uh. I ain't gonna highlight you Jason, give you your stage. Quiet it was. Seated Indian-style on their little X's they were.

As I stepped up to tell of that day's game plan, all-of-a-sudden I hear this hideous shrieking “AAAARRRRRRRRERRRRRRRR, ARRRRROOWWWWWW.”…. I ignored it. Yes, pretty sure it was Jason. And again, AAAAARRRREEEEEERRRRAARRRRRROOOOOAAAARRRRR.” and again, and again. I prided myself in continuing to speak to what our class plans were that day.

“ARRRRRREEEEEEEAAAARRRRR, AAAARRRRRROOOOAAARRRRR.” "HA! What, you think I’m stupid? I’ve gotya this time Jason" I thought to myself as I totally ignored Jason/his shrieking.

Finally little Beth, a full head shorter than the kids that were a full head shorter than Jason, raised her hand. Jason’s hideous shrieking was still going on in the foreground.

“Yes Beth?”……. “Ah, Mr Schultze, you’re stepping on Jason’s finger.” Shit. She was right, I was and I felt like crap. “Jason, I am so-so sorry.” Tears ran down his eyes - he knew I hadn’t done it with intent, and I think he actually kinda enjoyed the fact someone was concerned for him as I doted over his now swollen pinky.

Until the day comes I pee my pants uncontrollably and forget my name, I shall not forget this day.