Post by James Gilmore on Jan 27, 2019 0:30:46 GMT
”MRS. ROBINSON - PART II"
“Now I know...you must have heard that word from someone in this school.”
I was in deep trouble.
Here I was, sittin’ in the vice-principal’s office, watchin’ as Mrs. Robinson entered data onto an ancient Apple Macintosh computer that sat on the corner of her desk. For a strict authoritarian, she had the cutest-decorated office I had ever seen; every single wall was lined with all things related to Garfield. Even the telephone she kept was of the famous comic kitty.
Unfortunately on this day, that didn’t even matter.
Makin’ things even worse was the fact my dad satnext to me, shakin’ his head the whole time. Havin’ been called away from work at the last minute to come get me was the last thing he wanted to have on his plate, and I could tell--even in my eight-year-old mind--he wasn’t too happy about it either. Mrs. Robinson cleared her throat as she took a sip from her favorite beverage, a 20 oz. bottle of R.C.
“Tell me who you heard it from,” she said, her tone unwaverin’. “I promise you that, in light of the fact that you’ve never been referred to my office whilst I’ve been here, you only ge off with a warning.”
My lips quivered. That was all I could do at this stage as the old man poked me on the shoulder.
“Tell her the truth son,” he chided me. “She’s not gonna hurt you...all she wants to know is where you heard that word.”
“Take as much time as you want,” she chimed in after turnin' her radio to 98.7 KLUV, the premiere Oldies Station in DFW! “But you really need to think carefully.”
Some men were Baptists, others Catholics; my father...was a Dallas Cowboys fan. Oh, he loved his work, he loved to support the Republican Party, but most of all he loved watchin’ the SIlver and Blue play on the gridiron durin’ Sundays or Mondays. Football was his home-life, his religion, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about that.
“Well, the little things you say and do make me want to be with you.
Rave on, it's a crazy feeling and I know it's got me reelin',
When you say I love you
Rave on.
The way you dance and hold me tight,
The way you kiss and say goodnight,
Rave on, it's a crazy feeling and I know it's got me reelin',
When you say I love you
Rave on...”
I let the sounds of Buddy Holly be my theme music as I sat there with my head bowed and eyes closed, thinkin’ about Mrs. Robinson’s offer. Then I remembered somethin’...in the heat of a football game, my old man would often use words that weren’t necessarily family-friendly or even PG-rated.
Even the F-dash-dash-dash word.
“Dad,” I said solemnly, remembering all those football games I watched with him. “I got that word from Dad.”
The vice-principal snorted, tryin’ to prevent herself from laughin’ her ass off. She always believed that it was quite presumptuous for a kid to rat a grown-up out on his or her follies! This time, however...somethin’ felt different.
The Old Man spoke up...and confessed...
“Well, rave on it's a crazy feeling,
And I know, it's got me reelin',
I'm so glad that you're revealin' your love for me.
Rave on, rave on and tell me, tell me not to be lonely,
Tell me, you love me only, rave on with me…”
...and it was the darndest thing I ever heard.
“Ma’am, JJ’s tellin’ the truth. I...I do cuss a lot, especially when I’m watchin’ the football games with him. I’ve done that for most of my life, and...well, I really shouldn’t use those words, especially around him.”
My dad sounded heartfelt...actually, more embarrassed than heartfelt. In the heat of battle, when Troy Aikman and Company were slackin’ off, he wove a tapestry of profanities and swearin’ that could be heard for miles on end--at least, accordin’ to this mind. He was a master of the colorful metaphor; it was his true medium.
Yet what Mrs. Robinson said next...put a shock to both our systems.
“You’ve got an amazing young son...”
Boom! Mind instantly blown away!
“Well, rave on it's a crazy feeling,
And I know, it's got me reelin',
I'm so glad that you're revealin' your love for me.
Rave on, rave on and tell me, tell me not to be lonely,
Tell me, you love me only, rave on with me…”
The facade of the disciplinarian, the mask that wielded unparalleled justice, had cracked before my eyes!
For a woman of 34 years of age, Mrs. Robinson loved comin’ to school every day. Nothin’ made her more proud except to oversee the five hundred kids that attended Farine on a daily basis, but it was an especially rare occurrence for her to show a soft side. She loved bein’ the top dog, the head honcho, the lady in charge, but there was a magical side to her few had seen before. Amidst all of the Garfield stuff that hung on her walls was a banner that had a Bible verse written in large letters on it, referencin’ a quote from the book of Proverbs.
My dad looked at that banner before gazin’ at me and her with a warm, lovin’ nod.
“I firmly believe that he is such an amazing young lad. Does he get into trouble? Sure...but it’s nothing a teacher can’t handle,” Mrs. Robinson continued as she pulled out a handful of Goldfish crackers. She was right--I did stuff most teachers would often scold kids for...chewin' gum, talkin' too loud, ya name it. “The truth is, however, when JJ grows older he’s going to discover what it feels like to be influenced by other people--not just other children. As time passes, he will learn that the people he’s with the most are going to be the ones who will steer him in a certain direction; some will have his best interests at heart whilst others will hurt him. He needs a mentor in his life, someone who can show him how to avoid moments like the one had had this afternoon...”
My dad hated lectures. He really, really did...but somethin’ made him want to listen to the vice-principal’s words on this day. He felt, perhaps, that he too was missin’ somethin’ in his own life--companionship, friendship, someone to talk to. From this day forward, Mrs. Robinson would have an impact on my life in a way I can’t even begin to describe without breakin’ down sobbin’.
“I hope me scaring the dickens out of you has taught you a very valuable lesson, young lad!”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I stood up, watchin’ as she chucked the referral sheet she had written into the trash can. I didn’t get off scot-free though; my dad got the last word and grounded me off Ninja Turtles for a couple of days, if for nothin' else except tattle-tellin' on him…’til I learned my lesson, he once said. Yet on this day, at this very moment, my view on her began changin’.
I began to like her more...and so did my old man.
He saw somethin’ in her that he truly appreciated. He saw that she had the ability to keep my wildest fantasies grounded in reality, but more importantly...he saw her as a person who could help him control his own dark impulses and, perhaps, make him into the bedrock of my life he wanted to be.
Of course, nothin’ comes easy...right?!
Eventually, I found out that her first name was Joni. She would eventually become one of the greatest mentors in my life.
And by the Fall of 1991, just as I was gettin' ready for my fourth-grade year, she would become...my stepmother.
James Gilmore will return…
“Now I know...you must have heard that word from someone in this school.”
I was in deep trouble.
Here I was, sittin’ in the vice-principal’s office, watchin’ as Mrs. Robinson entered data onto an ancient Apple Macintosh computer that sat on the corner of her desk. For a strict authoritarian, she had the cutest-decorated office I had ever seen; every single wall was lined with all things related to Garfield. Even the telephone she kept was of the famous comic kitty.
Unfortunately on this day, that didn’t even matter.
Makin’ things even worse was the fact my dad satnext to me, shakin’ his head the whole time. Havin’ been called away from work at the last minute to come get me was the last thing he wanted to have on his plate, and I could tell--even in my eight-year-old mind--he wasn’t too happy about it either. Mrs. Robinson cleared her throat as she took a sip from her favorite beverage, a 20 oz. bottle of R.C.
“Tell me who you heard it from,” she said, her tone unwaverin’. “I promise you that, in light of the fact that you’ve never been referred to my office whilst I’ve been here, you only ge off with a warning.”
My lips quivered. That was all I could do at this stage as the old man poked me on the shoulder.
“Tell her the truth son,” he chided me. “She’s not gonna hurt you...all she wants to know is where you heard that word.”
“Take as much time as you want,” she chimed in after turnin' her radio to 98.7 KLUV, the premiere Oldies Station in DFW! “But you really need to think carefully.”
Some men were Baptists, others Catholics; my father...was a Dallas Cowboys fan. Oh, he loved his work, he loved to support the Republican Party, but most of all he loved watchin’ the SIlver and Blue play on the gridiron durin’ Sundays or Mondays. Football was his home-life, his religion, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about that.
“Well, the little things you say and do make me want to be with you.
Rave on, it's a crazy feeling and I know it's got me reelin',
When you say I love you
Rave on.
The way you dance and hold me tight,
The way you kiss and say goodnight,
Rave on, it's a crazy feeling and I know it's got me reelin',
When you say I love you
Rave on...”
I let the sounds of Buddy Holly be my theme music as I sat there with my head bowed and eyes closed, thinkin’ about Mrs. Robinson’s offer. Then I remembered somethin’...in the heat of a football game, my old man would often use words that weren’t necessarily family-friendly or even PG-rated.
Even the F-dash-dash-dash word.
“Dad,” I said solemnly, remembering all those football games I watched with him. “I got that word from Dad.”
The vice-principal snorted, tryin’ to prevent herself from laughin’ her ass off. She always believed that it was quite presumptuous for a kid to rat a grown-up out on his or her follies! This time, however...somethin’ felt different.
The Old Man spoke up...and confessed...
“Well, rave on it's a crazy feeling,
And I know, it's got me reelin',
I'm so glad that you're revealin' your love for me.
Rave on, rave on and tell me, tell me not to be lonely,
Tell me, you love me only, rave on with me…”
...and it was the darndest thing I ever heard.
“Ma’am, JJ’s tellin’ the truth. I...I do cuss a lot, especially when I’m watchin’ the football games with him. I’ve done that for most of my life, and...well, I really shouldn’t use those words, especially around him.”
My dad sounded heartfelt...actually, more embarrassed than heartfelt. In the heat of battle, when Troy Aikman and Company were slackin’ off, he wove a tapestry of profanities and swearin’ that could be heard for miles on end--at least, accordin’ to this mind. He was a master of the colorful metaphor; it was his true medium.
Yet what Mrs. Robinson said next...put a shock to both our systems.
“You’ve got an amazing young son...”
Boom! Mind instantly blown away!
“Well, rave on it's a crazy feeling,
And I know, it's got me reelin',
I'm so glad that you're revealin' your love for me.
Rave on, rave on and tell me, tell me not to be lonely,
Tell me, you love me only, rave on with me…”
The facade of the disciplinarian, the mask that wielded unparalleled justice, had cracked before my eyes!
For a woman of 34 years of age, Mrs. Robinson loved comin’ to school every day. Nothin’ made her more proud except to oversee the five hundred kids that attended Farine on a daily basis, but it was an especially rare occurrence for her to show a soft side. She loved bein’ the top dog, the head honcho, the lady in charge, but there was a magical side to her few had seen before. Amidst all of the Garfield stuff that hung on her walls was a banner that had a Bible verse written in large letters on it, referencin’ a quote from the book of Proverbs.
My dad looked at that banner before gazin’ at me and her with a warm, lovin’ nod.
“I firmly believe that he is such an amazing young lad. Does he get into trouble? Sure...but it’s nothing a teacher can’t handle,” Mrs. Robinson continued as she pulled out a handful of Goldfish crackers. She was right--I did stuff most teachers would often scold kids for...chewin' gum, talkin' too loud, ya name it. “The truth is, however, when JJ grows older he’s going to discover what it feels like to be influenced by other people--not just other children. As time passes, he will learn that the people he’s with the most are going to be the ones who will steer him in a certain direction; some will have his best interests at heart whilst others will hurt him. He needs a mentor in his life, someone who can show him how to avoid moments like the one had had this afternoon...”
My dad hated lectures. He really, really did...but somethin’ made him want to listen to the vice-principal’s words on this day. He felt, perhaps, that he too was missin’ somethin’ in his own life--companionship, friendship, someone to talk to. From this day forward, Mrs. Robinson would have an impact on my life in a way I can’t even begin to describe without breakin’ down sobbin’.
“I hope me scaring the dickens out of you has taught you a very valuable lesson, young lad!”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I stood up, watchin’ as she chucked the referral sheet she had written into the trash can. I didn’t get off scot-free though; my dad got the last word and grounded me off Ninja Turtles for a couple of days, if for nothin' else except tattle-tellin' on him…’til I learned my lesson, he once said. Yet on this day, at this very moment, my view on her began changin’.
I began to like her more...and so did my old man.
He saw somethin’ in her that he truly appreciated. He saw that she had the ability to keep my wildest fantasies grounded in reality, but more importantly...he saw her as a person who could help him control his own dark impulses and, perhaps, make him into the bedrock of my life he wanted to be.
Of course, nothin’ comes easy...right?!
Eventually, I found out that her first name was Joni. She would eventually become one of the greatest mentors in my life.
And by the Fall of 1991, just as I was gettin' ready for my fourth-grade year, she would become...my stepmother.
James Gilmore will return…
Well howdy there pardner.