Hoping All Your Consequences Are Happy Ones

My Mom always strived (or is it strove, I'm sure my sister knows the correct word) to get me what I wanted for Christmas. If I was clear she would definitely have what I wanted wrapped up or under the tree. Now if I wasn't clear, it might be "close, but no cigar." This picture from second grade reminds me of a few things. The first thing is, like every boy, I wanted one of those cool three quarter length sleeve football jerseys. The material was a very thick/hot polyester. I wanted a Dallas Cowboys #12 jersey, for obvious reasons; it was my hero Roger Staubach's number. What I got was a Pittsburg Steelers, #32 Franco Harris jersey. Yuk! (Johnny Bob is wearing his Miami Dolphins, #12 Bob Griese jersey on the back row) But as Dad would say, "don't look a gift horse in the mouth," so I proudly wore it every other day to school... until the sleeves fell off of it.

The next thing this picture reminds me of is the trouble I got into for wearing it on picture day. Mom was very mad when we got the pictures back several months later and saw I had "wore that tacky jersey for pictures," and for Goodness sake, I "didn't even tuck it in!" (If Johnny Bob jumped of a cliff would you?) I had no clue. But I have to admit, 35 years later it brings back many more memories than if I had been dressed in all red as Shawn Stamps who is next to me did, or that cool turtle-neck Don Jackson's mother made him wear.

The last thing this picture reminds me of is what a trouble-maker Chuck Sanchez was when I sat next to him in that two-seater second grade desk. He would routinely get into trouble and have to go stand behind the chalk board. The chalk boards at Bell would lift up and expose the coat rack. When some kid got in trouble, they would have to go stand behind the chalk board, with only their feet and legs showing, which was at least half of second grade for Chuck. One time Chuck loudly passed gas and had to go stand under the chalk board. Ms. Way made me go get the Lysol spray and fumigate the area. During the time I sat next to Chuck, I always got a "B" in weekly Deportment. (She graded us weekly in our spiral notebooks.) This always angered my Dad, because while he didn't expect me to get an "A" in Language Arts or Social Studies, he dang sure expected me to get an "A" in how I conducted myself. My punishment was not getting to watch my two favorite TV shows, "Gomer Pyle, USMC" and "Truth or Consequences." I didn't know how to explain to him it was that darn Chuck. And I never appreciated Ms. Way for not sorting that out until after I moved to another desk. I missed a lot of go-o-o-lly's, shazam's and lemon meringue pies to the face while sitting next to Chuck.