Back to School

Hello All:

When I was a kid on summer break I used to hate it when I’d see the first sign of school about to resume. This usually came as an ad in the newspaper with the heading, “Back to School!” Or maybe I’d be at the store with my mother where we’d pass an aisle that had a large sign hanging from the ceiling that read, “Back to School!” A glance down the aisle revealed those God-awful school supplies that the teacher would expect us to use in the upcoming school year.

Well, it’s August which means summer vacation will end in a few weeks for all the kids. As a parent, I now like to tease my youngest daughter by pointing out these unpleasant back-to-school reminders. I might chime the words, “Back to School!” while holding up a Walmart ad with a “Back to School” sale.

***

Hopefully your kids won’t have a teacher like the main character in today’s featured writing. Have a great weekend. Enjoy it while it lasts… before the kids go back to school!

Back to School

There are two recesses at Valley Grammar School. Well, actually in the kids' world, there are three if you count arriving at school for the day and playing on the playground before class begins. Then the kids must endure a couple hours of sitting in their desks and learning lessons from the teacher who stands at the chalkboard. At ten o'clock they are permitted to eat a small snack at their desks in an allotted time frame of five minutes before morning recess begins. Then the kids rush out for ten minutes for some much needed play.

It was a Tuesday morning around quarter to eleven, about a half hour after recess. Every morning at this time, Mrs. Lynch's first grade class did an exercise of reading a short story from the reading text book. Each student was to take a turn reading out loud—maybe a few sentences or so from the book—until the story was complete.

"Come-on Brian, pronounce the word!" demanded Mrs. Lynch. She was growing impatient with students like him. He was slow with poor reading skills.

"S... S... So... W... W... W... H...O" Bryan struggled through every word.

"Bryan, is that all you can do?" complained Mrs. Lynch. "You can't even read a simple phrase, 'so who...?'" Then she mocked poor Bryan in such a way to make him appear to be a stupid retard. "This is you! S... S... O.... Uh... Hu... S." She was sure to make a dopey look on her face. "I mean what's so hard about it?"

Mrs. Lynch nosily exhaled and ordered little Susan to continue.

"so who took the cookie from the cookie jar?" Susan read. Although read perfectly, little Susan was shy and bashful. She was terribly soft-spoken and it was difficult to hear her.

Mrs. Lynch proceeded to mock Susan. "You sound like a little mouse on its dying breath." Then she whispered softly like little Susan, "so who took the cookie from the cookie jar?" While doing so, she made a sad face which clearly exhibited the way Susan read.

The entire classroom laughed.

Heather, perhaps the smartest kid in class and seemingly the teacher's pet chimed in, "I like it when you imitate people. It keeps everyone laughing."

"Oh really?" challenged Mrs. Lynch. "Here let me impersonate you." Mrs. Lynch proceeded to skip across the front of the room over to the teacher's desk. "Good morning Mrs. Lynch." She used an exaggerated voice in a somewhat cruel tone which was aimed to mock Heather. "You have a nice dress today. You look nice. Can I be your special student... your teacher’s pet?"

All the kids in the class laughed, including Heather who clearly didn't have a problem with laughing at herself.

"You like that, huh Heather?" asked Mrs. Lynch.

Heather nodded in affirmation as her laughter calmed down.

"Well what about me?" encouraged Mrs. Lynch. "Doesn't anyone want to impersonate me?"

Heather immediately offered, "I will!" She stood up from her desk and scurried over to the blackboard where she picked up a piece of chalk. "Okay boys and girls, we need to learn how to pronounce letters correctly." Heather drew the letter R on the blackboard.

Mrs. Lynch stood some distance away and observed in silence.

"And so boys and girls, what is this letter?" asked Heather who was acting out Mrs. Lynch.

"R!" answered the entire class.

"Good!" congratulated Heather who, for some reason, was able to imitate Mrs. Lynch's voice quite well. "And how do you pronounce it?"

"RRRRRR!" answered the class. This was certainly a fun game. Mrs. Lynch wasn't such a bad teacher after all.

Heather was able to impersonate Mrs. Lynch so well that she even stretched her neck out while partly bowing to correct the students. "URRRRRRRRRR!" she answered in correction.

All the kids in the classroom laughed. Heather sounded just like Mrs. Lynch. She even exhibited the same gestures and body motion while pretending to teach the class.

But unlike the kids in the class, Mrs. Lynch was not laughing. She grew all the more silently outraged until finally speaking, "Wow, Heather! That's good! How did you learn how to do that?"

Heather smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"It looks like you've had a lot practice." pointed Mrs. Lynch. "Is this what you do during recess? You go out to the playground and mock me with all of your friends?"

The smile on Heather's face immediately went away. Now she stood at the front of the class while trying to defend herself. "But Mrs. Lynch, I was only playing. You told me to do that. I thought we were playing a fun game."

"After all that I've done for you!" shouted Mrs. Lynch. "You ungrateful, little brat!"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Lynch!" apologized Heather. "Please don't be mad."

"You really hurt my feelings by doing all of that!" explained Mrs. Lynch. "And you know what? I don't think I want you in my class anymore."

"Mrs. Lynch, no!" Heather pleaded.

"That's right! You can get out of my class and move next door to Mrs. White's class. Gather up all of your books, pencils, crayons, glue, paper—everything—from your desk."

Heather's shoulders sunk. Reluctantly, she approached her desk and opened the top.

"Take it all out!" ordered Mrs. Lynch.

In two minutes, Heather gathered everything up from her desk and stacked all of her books on top of one another. Then she placed all the supplies on top.

"Now pick all of that up and carry it over to the corner near the door." ordered Mrs. Lynch. "You can stand there and wait. I just need to talk to Mrs. White so she can find you a desk."

It was quite a lot of weight for child in first grade to carry. Heather struggled to maintain her balance while not allowing anything to fall. When finally making it to the door, Heather was ordered to turn around and face the class.

"So you don't like me, huh?" asked Mrs. Lynch.

"That's not true." sadly answered Heather.

But Mrs. Lynch wasn't buying it. "So tell me when you started to hate me so much?"

"But I don't hate you Mrs. Lynch." insisted Heather.

"Is it my dress? Don't you like my dress? Maybe you don't like my hairstyle? Or maybe my teeth aren't white enough for you?"

"You look fine." whispered Heather. Then she asked, "Mrs. Lynch?"

"What????" sharply asked Mrs. Lynch. "What do you want?????"

"Could I put my books down? These are getting really heavy and I'm getting tired."

"What, are you some kind of weakling?" charged Mrs. Lynch. "You can't hold up books for a couple of minutes. You're pathetic, Heather.—you know that? I could stand there for an hour and hold those books without any problem. So I guess I'm better than you. And you're going to make fun of me?"

By now, Heather's arms were shaking. She aimed her face to the ceiling in some effort to summon the strength to keep holding the stack of books and supplies. Remember, this was a child in first grade and she was given a terribly difficult task... actually a cruel punishment to endure.

"You disgust me!" declared Mrs. Lynch. "I'm going next door to talk to Mrs. White so I can get you out of here.

As Mrs. Lynch left the room, poor Heather began to cry. Despite how cruel her teacher was, Heather was actually fond of Mrs. Lynch. And there was just something about being evicted from her class in the middle of the year that didn't sit right with her. Aside from that, the kids in Mrs. White's class were weird. They were the losers who could never do anything right.

As always, the kids in Mrs. Lynch's class began to chatter once the teacher left the room. Would this time be real? There were a few occasions of when Mrs. Lynch became disappointed with a student and threatened to send him or her next door. But it never happened. Well this time Mrs. Lynch looked really angry. Maybe this time it would actually happen.

A minute later, Mrs. Lynch returned and sighed. "Well, Heather, I guess put your books and supplies back in your desk. Mrs. White doesn't have an empty desk for you to sit at.

Relieved, Heather walked back to her desk and nearly dropped everything onto the seat.

While Heather waited for the blood to rush back to her hands, Mrs. Lynch added a final remark, "Remember, Heather: the only reason why you are not next door is because Mrs. White doesn't have a desk. I'm really serious when I say that I don't want you in my class anymore. From now on, things are going to be different between you and me. Understand?"

"Yes..." sadly answered Heather.

And that's what happens when someone mocks Mrs. Lynch, the first grade teacher at Valley Grammar School.

The End!

Killing Yourself to Live

Hello All:

I’ve mentioned before of how much I love the premium subscription to Spotifiy. Any time a song is in my head, I can look for it on Spotify and give a listen. Last night I was cleaning the kitchen and suddenly had an urge to listen to the song, “killing yourself to live” by English rock band, Black Sabbath. It just popped into my head and I had to give a listen.

Halfway through the song, I realized that it is truly a masterpiece. The music is colorful, vibrant and alive. The message from the lyrics is important, reminding us that sometimes in life we kill ourselves trying to fulfill our expectations. I’m not sure I agree with another message in the song that we should “smoke it and get high”. But I suppose that’s how the songwriter attempted to relay that we should relax and not worry about anything.

Be sure to give the song a listen if you never heard it. I provide the You Tube video, below. Then read today’s new short story, a new tale out of the Cableman series.

Killing Yourself to Live

Sometimes being the Cableman isn't easy, especially on those days when he is given an impossible route of installs to complete. It seems the boss doesn't understand how long it takes to complete installs as well as answer service calls. There's only so much that a cable man can do in one day.  And how the Cableman hates it when the boss gives him that “your days are numbered around here” sort of look when walking past the office after 5:00.

Days like this require a special sort of after-hours therapy which involves going home after his workout and cracking open a couple of beers while playing one of his favorite Black Sabbath CDs, Volume 4. The album is ideal for drowning one's sorrows out in rock and roll. The same can be said of many songs by Black Sabbath or simply Ozzy Osbourne.

The Cableman listened to most of the songs on the album: "wheels of confusion", "tomorrow's dream", "supernaut"... he skipped the mellow songs like "changes" and "Laguna sunrise". While listening, he reflected on his crappy day and let the bluesy sound of Black Sabbath drown all of his sorrows away. He even thought about all of his women problems: Tina who broke up with him because of her parents, Melissa who left him for another man, and Jenny Robin who really messed with his mind. He buried it all in rock and roll, one of the best medicines for a troubled mind.

Before ending his session, the Cableman went back to the first song of the album, "wheels of confusion" and played it one more time just to make sure he heard the important message. Ozzy stated at the conclusion of the song,

“So I found that life is just a game.

But you know there's never been a winner.

Try your hardest just to be a loser.

The world will still be turning when you've gone...

Yeah, when you've gone."

"Amen to that!" exclaimed the Cableman. "Why try so hard at everything?" And that was the end of the Cableman's session of drowning his sorrows in rock and roll music. He felt one hundred percent better, and forgot everything. By then he was ready for dinner, and went to the refrigerator for a nice juicy steak to put on the grill.

***

Across town, however was a different story. Unemployed twenty-eight-year-old Larry who lived with his grandmother spoke on the telephone with his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.

"I mean you're just not going anywhere in life." explained Larry's girlfriend, Michelle. "You don't have a job and you have no inhibitions.”

"But I love you." reminded Larry.

"That's great." answered Michelle. "But you put too much of a drain on my life. I don't want to sound mean when saying this, but you're kind of a loser. I really hoped you could at least get a job and get yourself back on your feet."

"Michelle, I've been through so much!" yelled Larry.

In the family room, Grandma listened to the one side of the conversation. She knew what this phone call was about, and shook her head in sadness. If only Larry could get his life together.

"I struggle every day to finally pull out of this." continued Larry. "You're the only thing left in this world that gives me hope."

"I understand that." answered Michelle. "But for now, I'm afraid I'm going to have to break up with you."

"No!" yelled Larry. "Please don't! Michelle, if you break up with me, I'm going to kill myself!"

"See what I mean!" pointed Michelle. "See how you bring me down? I can't take this sort of thing anymore." With that, she hung up the phone.

Larry slammed the phone down, stormed off into his bedroom and closed the door. Immediately he rummaged his collection of old records that were kept in the record case of the retro 1970s stereo. The old appliance was picked up at a garage sale when he was still in high school.

It was the album Sabbath Bloody Sabbath which caught Larry's attention, probably because he remembered the opening song, "killing yourself to live". Larry loaded the record and dropped the needle on the first track. Immediately the opening riff from the song played.

Now it should be mentioned that the opening song to Sabbath Bloody Sabbath is more of a motivational piece. It aims to remind people that we try so hard in life to gain wealth and success, only to end up killing ourselves in the process. Think of the health issues that people get after so many decades of chasing the horizon of material happiness. They die early, hence the meaning of the message, "killing yourself to live". The song was not intended to encourage people to commit suicide.

Larry, however, had a different interpretation. He reached up to the top shelf of his bedroom closet for a shotgun. It was already loaded in case ever needed. "So she wants to break up with me? Well I guess I have nothing left."

Through the speakers, Ozzy tried to reason with Larry:

"Just take a look around you what do you see

Pain, suffering, and misery

It's not the way that the world was meant

It's a pity you don't understand

Killing yourself to live...

Killing yourself to live..."

Larry turned the volume of the 1970s stereo up, and sat on the ground against the speaker. He just sat there for a while with the shotgun in hand. And whenever needed, Larry would reach over and pick up the needle to play the song over again. Eventually, he hoped, the song would give him the necessary motivation to finally pull the trigger.

By 11:30 in the evening, Larry had yet to commit suicide. But the song "killing yourself to live" continued to play over and over again.

Grandma really wanted to go to bed for the night, and couldn't sleep with all that racket coming from Larry's bedroom. She had to be up early the following morning to have someone from the cable company come over and look at her TV picture. "Larry!" she called out. "Larry, turn that noise down! It's time for bed!" She knocked and pounded; even tried to open the door herself, but it was locked.

Inside, Larry sat on the floor with the barrel of the shotgun pointed in his mouth. It would only be a matter of time before he finally pulled the trigger.

Frustrated, Grandma groaned and head off to bed for the evening. She would put the pillows over her head and try to drown out the noise from Larry's bedroom. It wasn't until 3:30 AM that she managed to fall asleep.

***

By 7:30 the following morning, Grandma woke up and could hear that the noise continued from Larry's bedroom. By now, she was able to recognize a pattern and realize that he was playing the same song over and over again.

"What in the world is wrong with him?" asked Grandma out loud. “Did he lose his mind?" She stormed down the hallway and over to Larry's bedroom door where she pounded it with her fists. "Larry!" she yelled. "Come on, now! That's enough! What happened? Did your girlfriend break up with you? That's okay, life has to go on."

The guitars screamed in answer. Larry wasn't ready to come out.

"Come-on Larry!" yelled Grandma. "I have the cable company coming in a half an hour. You're not going to make all that racket while they're here, are you?"

There was still no answer from Larry. All poor Grandma could do was change into a fresh pair of clothes, put her dentures in and wait by the door for the cable company to arrive.

By 8:15 AM, a cable van pulled up near the house and parked by curb. It was the Cableman who exited. Grandma watched as he put a safety cone out in the street and then clicked his way up the driveway in his steel-toed work boots. He was actually a handsome man. Too bad Larry couldn't be more like him.

"Well hello!" shouted Grandma upon opening the screen door.

"Hi, I'm here to answer a call for poor picture quality?" shouted the Cableman in return.

As the Cableman stood in the foyer, Grandma apologized, "I'm so sorry for all that racket. My grandson just broke up with his girlfriend, and he's been playing that all night. It's the same song over and over again. I can't get him to come out.

The Cableman immediately recognized the song. "Well that's 'killing yourself to live' by Black Sabbath."

"You mean to tell me you know that song?" asked Grandma so surprised.

"Yes I do." affirmed the Cableman. "And he's been playing it all night long?"

"Yes." answered Grandma. "I tried to go in his room, but the door is locked.”

The Cableman continued to probe, "And you say your grandson broke up with his girlfriend?"

"Yesterday afternoon." informed Grandma.

"Well, Ma'am, I don't like the sound of that." declared the Cableman. "Would you like me to go in there and check on him?"

"Oh, please do!" encouraged Grandma.

The Cableman walked over to Larry's bedroom door and knocked. "Hello??? This is the cable company!" He tried to turn the knob; but just as Grandma mentioned, the door was locked.

Grandma was standing nearby. Because of this the Cableman warned, "Ma'am, you might want to look away. This might not be pretty."

Once Grandma walked into the other room, the Cableman executed a powerful sidekick to the bedroom door which tore the frame as the door swung open.

There on the floor sat emotionally distraught Larry against the speaker of the stereo with the barrel of the shotgun pointed in his mouth. His body was shaking tremendously. The trigger of the shotgun was about halfway pulled.

"Hey, man!" shouted the Cableman while rushing in. "What are you doing?"

The lyrics from Ozzy screamed through the speakers,

“I'm telling you

Believe in me

Nobody else will tell you”

The Cableman kicked the butt-end of the shot gun to the side which caused the trigger to finally pull. The barrel exploded and out projected a massive bullet which blasted a hole in the bedroom wall.

Larry's head and face were still intact. The bullet missed him. It was a close call, indeed!

Immediately, the Cableman turned the volume down—relief for Grandma. "Are you stupid or something?" nagged the Cableman. "What's wrong with you?"

Larry just sat on the floor and continued to shake.

"Man, you're all messed up. You need help." He called out to Grandma in the other room, "Ma'am, your grandson is okay. But you might want to call the paramedics."

While waiting for rescue to arrive, the Cableman thought he would use the opportunity to talk some sense into Larry. "Look, I understand that you're girlfriend broke up with you. But this isn't the way to handle it. Suicide is never the answer. Did you know that someone once did the very thing that you attempted? He played "killing yourself to live" by Black Sabbath—over and over again—after his girlfriend broke up with him. After some hours he pulled the trigger of the shotgun; but chickened out at the last second, and managed to escape any serious damage from the bullet. But he now walks through life with a shotgun hole in his face. Is that how you want to end up?

Larry finally spoke up, "That's how I got the idea."

The End!