Elementary, Watson

Fule for Thought

 

I just turned 52 on Monday the 16th. I felt pretty good until I realized that’s the age Shakespeare was when he died! People didn’t live as long then (crazy Black Plague)!  The day made me think back to “yesteryear” when I was a young lad in Elementary. I was about to learn life lessons unexpectedly!

When I was a kid in Canmore Elementary, recess was a huge deal. This was true for every kid, except for “Timmy” (fake name). Well, recess was good for him too, except for a few strange days.  

Each day, the bell would ring, and out would race the throngs on kids to hit recess, and hit it HARD! Timmy was like the rest of us, but he was also a cool kid, who played hockey. I mention this, to show that embarrassment can hit anyone, at any time. It is very difficult to describe the coming events delicately, but I will try.  

On the tarmac at recess for just a few short days, Timmy faced his nemesis … a mutt of a dog. This dog had taken it in its head that he REALLY liked Timmy. He would run through the mass of kids, and find him. Why he chose Timmy, we never knew, however, we WERE glad that he did.  

When he did track down Timmy, he would happily jump him! I’m sorry, Readers (all 12 of you!) but it is hard to be “delicate” here. This mutt would jump Timmy and show just how much he REALLY liked him! That’s it kids, this dog would hump Timmy’s leg!  

It would “have its way with” Timmy … and we’d scatter so we wouldn’t be next! I know, you’re probably asking “how could you leave a pal,” but hey … it’s like when the chopper arrives in war, there’s only room for so many soldiers, and Timmy’s too badly wounded … we had to leave him behind!   

As soon as he could, Timmy would break away, and run to the doors. It got so that he’d lost his love for recess … he wouldn’t go out. We had no choice, we HAD to convince Timmy to come out anyway … we NEEDED him out there! Three different mornings this would happen, and then suddenly the dog stopped coming to school. Timmy was relieved, until every now and then someone would do his best dog “bark” and we’d see Timmy flinch!

My Hungarian dad was very “old School” when it came to teaching me life lessons. One evening, when I was about 10, he noticed me watching intently as he smoked. As a loving father, he must’ve been worried that I’d try it. So, he went to the kitchen cupboard and brought out a small package.  

“Here, if you want to smoke, try one.”  

I was surprised, but I did what he said. Cool, I’d see what the fuss is about, and be more grown-up! However, my dad’s teaching method involved giving me an old, dry Hungarian cigarette. I did not know this as he lit it up for me. It was strange how so few puffs could cause so much damage! It was horrible! I couldn’t breathe right … I couldn’t seem to shake the horrible taste from my mouth. It tasted like feet mixed with manure! I looked to him for help, his answer was laughter. Wow, how could he have done this to me … wasn’t I his youngest son, aren’t you supposed to be able to trust your dad? Of course these thoughts hit me as I was sprinting to the bathroom!  

I thought I was going to die, and maybe for a split second I did (I know I saw a bright light … I wanted to go to it)! Before I knew it, I was doubled over the toilet heaving and retching! Everything seemed to come out of every part of me … how could a few puffs of one LOUSY cigarette have so much power? I never smoked again … of course it was also hard to trust dad again! Thank God, he didn’t try to teach me to swim!

There’s nothing better for Elementary aged boys than a lesson on etiquette! Our teacher was teaching us the proper way to pick up a girl’s pencil from the floor, if we were in a desk.  

“You get up, and carefully walk to the pencil, retrieve it, return it, then quietly sit back down,” she said as she pointed to me! Yeah right, I thought, as she placed the pencil just beside my desk. I had my own idea, and I casually sweeped my arm down and to the pencil. The next thing I saw, was the ceiling, and then laughing faces, as I flipped myself out of my desk and onto the floor! It was almost like Gymnastics! I thought the teacher would join in, but no, she told me to get off the floor, back into my desk, and do it right this time!  

When you’re a kid met with laughter, I always found it was better to join, than get upset. The lesson I DID learn that day was not to take short cuts, and that you will make mistakes, so don’t take things too seriously! Who knew the teacher would help me learn THAT lesson! Isn’t school great?! Recess, dads, and teachers … helping us learn life lessons! Wow.

 

(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that will appear in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)