Junior High Concert

So Josh, Dr. Barry's youngest, asked me to watch him play his trombone at his school's Winter concert. Ah, the memories it brought back...

Although Wifey thinks I was ALWAYS happy and accepted (as opposed to her well documented angst filed youth) I recall Junior High (Middle School now) as a tough time. I failed Math for the first time, and encountered boys from other elementary schools with facial hair who daily threatened to kick my ass if I kept answering questions in English and History class.

The second part was my dear old Mother's fault. The Jonas Salk guidance counselor (lord --I still remember his name --Tom Mcnamee) told Mom I ought to go into the Advanced Classes. Since my sister Sue had struggled with that when SHE was in junior high, my Mother refused.

This was a sentence to me to keep me amongst the sweat hogs --Levittown's finest. In retrospect, I guess it DID toughen me up some, but it rendered 7th, 8th, and 9th grades a miserable time...

Finally, before high school, I went to the MacArthur High counselor and got myself into the Advanced classes (except in Math). I then met the smartest kids in school, and raised my hand without fear of an ass kicking at 3 pm.

And so there I was --at Indian Something or Other, listening to Josh. He's already a budding player, and a complete individualist.

Many of his classmates wore Santa hats. Josh decided to wear a yarlmuka! I don't know too many 13 year olds in secular schools with that kind of self confidence.

The band played mostly in tune, and in breaks I chatted with Scott, and Barry, and Barry's sister Phyllis. Phyllis was the first to observe that Josh, even at 6 months, had his own agenda. She was spot on!

After the performance, Barry and I chatted with the school's Assistant Principal, whose son is a basketball player for the U. I mentioned that I'd always heard that dealing with Middle Schoolers was the toughest and most dangerous job in education. Mr. Thomas replied "You have no idea."

So, we congratulated Josh, and I even found a $50 bill that fell out of his trombone and gave it to him.

I drove home, remembering those days in Levittown, as well as the Ds time at Palmetto Middle School, amazingly happy that they're days of the past.