Suicide Dialogue

 

A woman named Clarice sits at the gravestone of Jez Franklin, a friend who died from self hanging recently. She is sad and weeping as she remembers her friend.

Clarice: Why? I Still don’t understand why, even six months later.

Jez appears behind her as she weeps in silence. He looks like he is pondering how to play a joke, but then thinks better of it and shrugs.

Jez: Has it been that long?

Clarice whips around and sees her friend. She is shocked and horrified.

Clarice: Jez! What-how-are you really here?

Jez: You can see me, right?

Clarice: Yes…but can I touch you?

Jez: Well, that would be a first.

Clarice reaches out, but cannot feel his mortal self.

Clarice(sadly): No, I guess you are a ghost.

Jez: Boo.

Clarice (turning angry): That is NOT funny!

Jez: Depends on your perspective! You’re the first person to visit my gravestone since I killed myself, so I think a little humor with my first visitor is rather…ceremonial.

Clarice: If you say so.

(silence for a long moment)

Jez: Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be shoving off for…wherever!

Clarice: Wait! Are you an angel?

Jez: I…don’t think so.

Clarice: Are you a demon from hell?

Jez(laughing): That’s what my brother Mark used to call me! So maybe yeah.

Clarice: That’s what they say at church, that if you kill yourself you go to hell!

Jez: I would say that’s a preconceived notion…completely bullshit.

Clarice: Then what are you?

Jez: I’m really not sure…I’m in what used to be called Limbo, I think….kind of a waiting place.

Clarice: What’s it like?

Jez(looking around): Like here, I guess, when the light of day hits me. Mostly it’s darkness.

Clarice: How often does light hit you?

Jez: Today’s the first. I think it’s because of you.

Clarice: Why do you say that?

Jez: Not sure, but as far as I can tell, you’re the first to visit my grave since I…left. Speaking of which, you were asking a cold lifeless slab of rock why I did leave.

Clarice: Yes.

Jez: How about asking me?

Clarice: I thought I was.

Jez: No, you were asking a gravestone. My dad’s didn’t answer me, either, when he left, so it stands to reason gravestone technology hasn’t advanced much except weather-proofing.

Clarice: So…why?

Jez: It seemed…the right thing to do.

Clarice (angry): That makes NO sense at all! Since when is hanging yourself right?

Jez: Well, I did ponder wrist-slashing…but since I am…WAS…scared of blood, that wouldn’t have worked. We had no guns in the house, so death by gunshot wasn’t likely. Yet, there was a LOT of rope in the garage…the lack of air and the neck-snapping were instantaneous and…painless.

Clarice: No no NO!! I’m not talking about your mode of transportation, I’m talking about ‘the right thing to do’! Suicide is NEVER the right answer!

Jez: But it was…for me.

Clarice: I refuse to believe that!

Jez: Why?

Clarice: Because you loved life so much.

Jez (guffawing): Loved life so much! You silly blind fool! How long had you known me?

Clarice: Since the third grade.

Jez (annoyed): Eight years. What exactly told you that I loved life so damn much?!

Clarice: Well…you were always joking, making others, including me, laugh…you were always riding your bike around…you just seemed like you had it together.

Jez: Yep, that was me, the clown on a bicycle. Where did you get the happiness angle?

Clarice: Well…it just looked that way to me.

Jez (nodding): It looked that way to a lot of people, I suppose. In fact, I looked so fucking happy that nobody really ever asked me how I was doing, more like what I was doing, if I could tell a joke, if they could borrow a pencil from me. I think everyone just assumed I had it all together.

Clarice: OK, so maybe you had a few problems, but-

Jez: A FEW problems! Holy fucking mackerel! You have NO idea about me! Were you at the funeral?

Clarice (looking down in guilt): No, I couldn’t handle it.

Jez: I know, I saw.

Clarice: You were there?

Jez: I was standing right next to that sanctimonious bishop, Father O’Keefe. Listening as he spoke of the horrible tragedy that was my death, the altogether-too-short life of Jezra Franklin, how if I could have gotten some help I might have overcome whatever had struck me! Was I able, I would have taken the noose to HIS damn neck! Would have done that so-called church a lot of good!

Clarice: What’s wrong with Father O’Keefe?

Jez (furious): That son of a bitch laid his hands on me so many times…laid them everywhere!  And not just on me! Oh no! That little shit had his way with so many of us…us boys…on those weekend retreats my mom made me go on!

Clarice: What?!

Jez: And it’s not like nobody knows…just that nobody talks. I could see them in the audience…all those other boys who were ‘counseled’ by him…all with a blank look on their faces. And all those other self-righteous jerks who go every Sunday, playing right into his hands…those fucking hands!

Clarice: No! No! This can’t…

Jez: Can’t what?

Clarice (shocked contemplation): He’s been there for years…nobody knew.

Jez: Oh, NOBODY knew! Right! Those boys know, and they, like me, decided to clam up and let it keep happening, because they’re ‘good Catholic boys’ who don’t want any trouble. (looking down) If that were my only trouble, I wouldn’t be here…wouldn’t not be here to better put it.

Clarice: Then…what else…I don’t know.

Jez: Nobody did. (shrugs) I could have handled it, or at least buried it better, if that had been it. (looks at his Dad’s gravestone nearby) You know, these graves aren’t as cold and lifeless as I made them out to be…they tell.

Clarice: Tell what?

Jez: Who came to visit. My stone says you’re number one…after the burial service, anyway. Now, my dad has just a few more than that. I account for at least two. My mom never did come. (thinking, then turns back to Clarice) You’ve never come to my house, have you?

Clarice: I was never invited.

Jez: Well, you didn’t miss much. In 5^th grade my dad died, cancer. I think after that was when the joking Jez emerged. Everyone probably thought it was puberty. You know, jokes coming with the hairy balls. Just my way of coping.

Clarice: His death hit you pretty hard?

Jez: No. He was a pretty vicious bastard. Hit ME pretty hard, but laid into my brother more than me, though. Loved his scotch and loved his stogies…and loved the brutal power it gave him over his family. For some reason he didn’t touch my mom, though. Like she was the holiest of all.

Clarice: Was she?

Jez: No. Just another blind congregation member, truly blind. I tried to tell her about O’Keefe but she and her new husband sent me to a therapist…a therapist set up by the damn church of all places. You can probably see where that went.

Clarice: Told you to talk to Father O’Keefe?

Jez (laughing): Oh no! He told me it was all my fault, that O’Keefe was a good man and I somehow made him do it…if I was telling the truth, though I think he knew I was asking for honest help. No, this guy told me to keep my mouth shut if I truly believed in God…you know, God loves the meek and silent the best!

Clarice: It’s strange, you say it like you should be angry…but you’re not.

Jez: That’s a perk of death, I guess. The emotions that got me to where I was seemed to have died when my neck snapped.

Clarice: Why didn’t you…ask anyone else for help?

Jez: Who? The school counselor? A teacher? The police? One thing I’ve noticed is that nobody really listens. Most people talk while pushing their screen, they don’t absorb anything that’s not typed out for them in electronic shorthand.

Clarice: What about me?

Jez: What about you?

Clarice: You could have talked to me.

Jez (tilting his head in thought): That’s interesting you say that. I don’t suppose you remember me asking you to any of the dances in 7^th grade? 8^th? I asked you to a movie once or twice, just as a friend. Any of this ring a bell?

Clarice: Well…yeah…but you know, there was always some guy I was going with.

Jez: And going somewhere with the class clown wouldn’t help your ‘image’ whatever that was.

Clarice: Now wait-

Jez (holding up a hand): Oh it’s ok. I’m not angry…I’m not anything really. But you coming here is peculiar for you. Why today?

Clarice (crying): I…missed you today!

Jez: After 6 months? It doesn’t matter, nothing does to me anymore. It’s a strange feeling to be free after dying.

Clarice(growing angry again): Did you think of anyone else when you killed yourself? When you wanted this freedom, did you consider ANYONE ELSE’S feelings?

Jez: Quite honestly…no. I had pain. The pain of being me. My mom and stepdad didn’t get it, my real dad certainly got nothing except scraped knuckles from his title bouts with us. The church turned a cold but knowing eye. The teachers, especially after 5^th grade, couldn’t have cared less, they just can’t wait until the bell rings to get ready for the next class to repeat it.

Clarice: Hey, Mrs Gerhart was cool, she liked all of us!

Jez (shrugging): Maybe. One good one among the apathetic crowd didn’t stand out for me. But…what led me to finally do it? Finally end my pain? Any idea?

Clarice: No, I don’t have any idea anymore about anything.

Jez: Oh please! Quit the pathetic self reflection. My death had nothing to do with you. It had nothing to do with our friends, it had nothing to do with ANYONE….except me. There was no last straw, it had just built up for years. I was done. Done with going through the motions. Done with giving out cheap laughs for an uncaring crowd, done with sitting in a church on Sunday with a family in their own ignorant world.

Clarice: Please stop this! I DID care!

Jez: Maybe you did. But there’s the problem…lots of people ‘care’…that’s an interesting and empty word: care. You want to listen and help…but you don’t know how. I can’t say whether I was giving out help signals or not, but nobody’s really tuned in to anyone anymore. (looks as if he hears something). I think I need to go now.

Clarice: Why?

Jez: I’m not sure. Something is calling me. To where I don’t know. Thanks for listening, Clarice. You know it’s funny, I was feeling some anger earlier, but it’s like the more I talk, the more it just let itself go. I think I AM free now. For the first time you really did hear me…and it’s also the last.

Clarice (smiling a little): I’m sorry for that. What’s calling? Don’t tell me a white light!

Jez: No, just…something…a new home is my guess. Be good.

(Jez walks off. Clarice stares after the direction he went, then smiles at his grave.)

Clarice: Thanks for clearing it up.

Mission Ain't Happenin!

 Once in a while I pop in a CD of a favorite comedian from my collection on my drive to work. Humor gets me going just as well as music.

One of my favorite comedians is clean-cut stammering Bob Newhart. He doesn't pump his routines full of FUCK and SHIT, in fact I don't think I've ever heard him utter anything except damn and hell. His style is so low key and often the premise is being part of one side of a real or phone conversation. That said, he makes me laugh. He also inspires me to think like him to make my own routine. I came up with one a few years ago called 'Santa's Agent'. Rehearing him this week, I have thought of another one.

A favorite classic show of mine is 'Mission Impossible.' In this show, Peter Graves always listens to a tape giving him and his team a tough mission involving intelligence, terrorism, subterfuge, and stuntwork. Now suppose that tape player were to malfunction and Graves as Mr Phelps had to call in for instructions. I think the conversation might go comething like this after he goes through all the red tape.

Hello, Mr Secretary? Oh! MS Secretary, my apologies. 

No, I wasn't insinuating anything by that, I just didn't know. 

No, I guess it doesn't really matter, all I know about you is I've just been listening to a tape all these years saying you'll disembowel me and my team if any of us get caught or killed.

Dis-em-bowel, right. I thought that was a bit violent as a consequence....oh! Dis-AVOW! Hahaha, yes, that IS a bit different. I've been thinking disembowel all these years.

Well, the reason I'm calling is that the damn tape player ate the tape...that's right, ATE the tape. 

You know, when you people get so cheap and buy an off brand player and tapes, this will tend to happen.

Yes, I do understand you have people to answer to for your budget, I just think a few extra bucks will give you better quality and I wouldn't have to call in like this.

No, Ms Secretary, I'm not calling to complain per se, I just want to know what the mission is.

You-you don't know...so you just disembowel-I mean DISAVOW us.

How did I find you? Well, the paychecks had an address and phone number. I'm not always the brightest guy in the world, but I can put 2 and 2 together.

You'll have to get a new set of checks? Fine. So, who can I talk to so we can perform this mission, whatever it is?

You-you can't tell me. Uh huh, so should I wait for another cheap tape?

You don't know, you just disavow us. I see. How-how long have you been working at this disavowing gig?

This is your second day? Oh, Bob retired. I didn't know that. Um...who's Bob? The previous secretary.

Well, since my team and I are disavowed we tend not to be invited to retirement parties.

No. You see, we didn't exactly fill out applications or come in for interviews.

No, we didn't go through an orientation on how to fill out our health benefit forms, either. 

No, we're not what you'd call standard employees, we're more like contractors that do special projects.

No, no, no, not like painters or cabinet makers. More like, well, oh, secret problem solvers.

You need your house painted. I see. Well, I think there are government employees who are avowable who can do that better than we can.

Well, I am a good organizer. One of our team, Paris, is a master of disguise and a magician. Willy is our strongman, Barney is our mechanical expert. Cinnamon is a model and actress.

Hahaha, yes it does sound a bit like a talent show, doesn't it? Ahhh, maybe I didn't phrase it right, though I wouldn't really know how to phrase it on the phone.

Yes, I do understand it's only your second day and there's a lot in the job description. 

There's a big fat trainig manual? Is there an index? There is, good. Look up IMF. 

There isn't? Is there something labeled impossible?

There is not...ok.

No, I doubt the table of contents will be of help.

Well, seeing we don't have a mission, what color did you have in mind?

Fletch and the Tiresome Book Reviewer

   I have been writing something or other for about 40 years, excluding crap that was assigned to me. In fact, I often feel like a hypocrite as a teacher when I assign a writing project, since I abhorred pretty much every assignment I was given as a student...of course, nobody ever assigned me to write a script, something I might have run away with creatively.

   In the late 1980s,  inspired by the mystery soap opera "The Edge of Night" , I proceeded to write some mystery novels. I was actually on and off with that genre for 20 something years, and even recently have been on and off with novel number 8 in the past year. The problem with me is that I am by self confession the least disciplined writer I know. There is no set time when I sit and try to crank out dialogue and description, dialogue being the most fun. ANother problem there is that I do not have a particularly good place to write. My computer has been in either the master bedroom or the family/living room in either apartment or house. There is a small window of opportunity in the morning to get thoughts down, though morning is generally not my most creative time. It is the afternoon (like now) or evening when the juices warm up and by then the earlier solitude is long gone.

   I was introduced to the concept of blogs in my master's program at Lesley (motto: "Any business office suite can be made into a college campus if you remove the cubicles"). The blog, unlike novel writing, can be written in anything between thirty minutes and two hours, depending on what needs to get down. In this format, I can much more easily sit down at any time of day and write whatever crap is infecting my brain. In my blog entries, I have written song lyrics, short stories, and, for which I am cursed by many, the infernal book review.

   Why book reviews? Well, quite simply, I enjoy reading, often REreading books, whether they are travelogues like my recent acquisition about the Lincoln Highway or a good old mystery novel. After I read, I need an outlet for my thoughts. You're welcome!

   I have previously written about  Fletch (1974), the novel that inspired the 1985 Chevy Chase vehicle. A sequel was made 4 years later based on no novel at all.Personally, I feel that Chevy Chase was too old to be playing an undercover reporter in his  late 20s/early 30s. Someone like Jameson Parker or Woody Harrelson would have been a better fit.

   The literary Fletch, full name Irwin Maurice Fletcher, is serious about many things: good reporting, art. He listens well and for the most part is successful at solving murders and mysteries...with one exception.

   In my opinion, the first 3 novels were the best of the 9 total: "Fletch", "Confess, Fletch", and "Fletch's Fortune.", though the others were quite enjoyable as well. Those 3 seemed to fit into a natual trilogy of sorts. Other later novels filled in some gaps as to what happened before the first novel, then a few after the events of the third and finally one focusing what happened immediately after the first. Gregory McDonald seemed to enjoy writing them out of sequence...almost like a literary "Pulp Fiction", though the novels within themselves are quite linear.

"Fletch's Fortune"

Cutting to soon after the the events of "Confess, Fletch", he is captured, in a way, by 2 supposed CIA agents in Italy, and blackmailed to attend a journalists convention in rural Virginia, with the threat of tax evasion charges if he does not cooperate. The goal is to record all of the goings-on in the individual bedrooms of the journalists. Before Fletch even arrives, the president of the journalists association, Walter March, has been found dead in his room. The weapon is a pair of scissors.

The rest of the book is laid out in a sort of timeline in accordance with the convention schedule of events and speakers, mixed in with Fletch's listening in on the various bedrooms he has bugged and mealtime discussions with fellow journalists.

The journalists themselves are a mixed bag of egos, many of them having dealt in one way or another with Walter March, Fletch included. Most prominent in the story are Crystal Faoni, a big beautiful woman who was fired by March for being pregnant but not married; Bob McConnell who once left a March newspaper to work on a presidential campaign, only to see March successfully backing the opponent and forcing Bob back to journalism with his tail between his legs and heavy in debt; Fredericka (Freddie) Arbuthnot, a beautiful magazine reporter Fletch suspects of spying on him (she isn't); Hy Litwack, a famous anchorman who is shallow on  air, only honest with his wife; Eleanor Earles, an older reporter who defends Walter March and has had an illegitimate son with him; Lewis Graham, an older reporter who quotes other  people and books extensively; and Rolly Wisham, an idealistic reporter who has deep-seated anger for March for destroying his father's newspaper career.

This book is a great showcase of Fletch watching and observing, and it seems as though he learned a lot from Flynn in the previous story in terms of the art of listening, for listening is what helps him solve March's murder, both to people in person and on the tape machine.

For my Fletch review, click here: https://bitethismapquest.blogspot.com/2014/04/ill-take-noveland-novel.html

For my Confess, Fletch review, click here: https://bitethismapquest.blogspot.com/2017/07/its-another-book-review-i-confess.html

The Lincoln Highway

   Recently, my wife gave me a book for Father's Day (beats a damn tie any day for me!). Usually the Father's Day book is the newest Rand McNally road atlas. I often get quizzical looks when I say what I got an atlas, like I was the newest alient ambassador from Saturn's 5th moon...morons, I am from the 8TH moon! Hey, I have my atlas, others have the complete episode list from "Friends" memorized...it is an open debate as to who is the more 'normal'.

   This year, though, Vickie did me one better. The book I received was all about the history, politics, and routing of the Lincoln Highway. What is the Lincoln Highway, you may be asking? (more likely you're asking when is the last time I had a CAT scan). Well, we must go back about 110 years, when automobiles were still in their infancy. How infantile? If you put it in terms of computer operating systems, today we are in Windows 10, but 110 years ago it was MS-DOS with no mouse!

   In that time, the concept of paved roads was also a novelty. Many still rode the train or a horse or a bicycle or just plain walked.  Yet, the car was catching on and there was a huge interest to construct a road, or at least connect a lot of different roads, often dirt, into a continuous highway stretching all across the nation. One of the nabobs in charge of all this was in favor of naming this loose path the Lincoln Highway in honor of the senior member of the Mod Squad.....no, I mean Abraham Lincoln of course, a much revered Prez in the early 20th century before the millenial weenie roast began.\

   The highway began in New York City, then into New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, Nevada, and finally California. Some brave people dared to travel the entire length, including etiquette center square Emily Post! Now, people must consider that the MS DOS cars of the 1910s didn't go that fast...in fact what we consider slow, inthis case below 40 miles per hour, was actually fast in those days! On top of that, these hardy travelers spent a lot of time digging their  cars out of mud, waiting for the car to cool down after crossing railroad tracks (very rough back then) and other little mishaps. A trip across the nation could take over a month!

   With time, however, along with rough maps, painted concerete markers, and other public relations guides, the Lincoln Highway emerged as something really special. Towns rallied to have the highway go through their bailiwick  and if it didn't, they had a wily coyote put up misleading road signs telling them to come their way instead of staying on the Lincoln! No, just kidding about the coyote, but towns anxious for new tourist business went to great lengths to divert drivers.

   Another concept one can thank the Lincoln Highway for is motels! Back then, as motor roads were still new, there was nothing in the way of stopping over someplace for the night. At first, there were motor 'parks' cleared out...which meant you slept in the car or you camped out among the wildlife. Many of these camps were on public land, which meant they were often left trashed. Private businesses were set up where one paid a small fee, often around 50 cents, to stay in a newly built cabin. From there the motel concept grew.

   Other rough highways came about in this time, such as the Midland Trail, National Trail, Victory Highway, and others, all vying for a piece of the transcontinental voyage action.

   In 1925, the Federal Government established numbered highways to better organize the loose collection of named roads. While the Lincoln Highway was still intact, even improved in many areas as time went on, the numbered system confused drivers. Much of the Lincoln between Pennsylvania and Wyoming was on U.S. route 30. While that was all fine and good, the Lincoln's western terminus was in San Francisco, while highway 30 jogged north in western Wyoming, then cut across Idaho and Oregon to end in Astoria, Oregon. You can see how people assumed the Lincoln took them to Oregon as a result!

   The book I got the pleasure to read recounted in great detail exactly where the Lincoln was...and is! It can still be driven on a majority of its original routing, although freeways in many areas were built right on top of it, therefore lost forever as far as we know. The state by state guide told not only the original routing but also future generation reroutings, often far from the original! 

   In my current home of Nevada, the Lincoln follows much of U.S. 50, currently labeled as The Loneliest Highway between Ely and Fernley (almost 300 miles!). In my home state of Pennsylvania, U.S. 30 (before it was upgraded to freeway and bypassed many towns on the eastern half) carried the Lincoln through classic PA Dutch farmlands. Luckily, the old routing is quite driveable if you have the right guide. Between York and Irwin, U.S.30 stays true to the routing for the most part. When I lived in California, I drove on most of the Lincoln between Sacramento and Lake Tahoe, though some side streets in the Sacramento area carries the true road.

   Over time, the Lincoln would be superceded in fame by Route 66, another highway ruined by progress and freeways. Both roads have their place in history, though. This is where that wonderful DeLorean, or at the very least a 74 Pinto, could take me back through time to experience how it was, though I am pretty sure that even in the 1930s and 40s it wasn't all that rosy like I want to imagine things were.

Now if you don't mind, Ross is interested in Rachel...again!

The 1980s, Episode 5

So far we have seen...

Way too many moves!

But finally got into a comfy place...in a home and school!

Met some good friends and classmates....and a variety of teacher spectrums!

Did a variety of off-school activities like soccer, bowling, scouts, and martial arts.

Moved into junior high and increased my human acquaintanceship.

Hold on to your Trapper Keepers...the exciting conclusion to the 80s is about to come....

(Batman theme plays)

Ah, my mind is odd...and occasionally scary, especially to people trying to sell me religion, extended car warranties, or a home security system. Yes, we are arriving in the last part of the 1980s, a decade that many of us in my generation consider the best of times, me included. The music was great for the most part, the TV shows were pretty good (depending on your taste), and politics...well, there are some changes in recent opinion to that uber Republican decade and to Ronald Reagan himself. That said, from a kid's perspective, it was the best time to grow up, particularly in southeastern Pennsylvania. With that, let us move into

1988

As this year dawned, my sister and I were on the last day or so of having the house to ourselves, as our parents had ventured to Pasadena for the Rose Bowl, since their alma mater Michigan State had made it to that honorable bowl game of bowl games. We had the VCR set to tape it on New Year's day. Now, here is a bit of devilish thought on my part...if I could go back, I'd sabotage that recording, Why, you ask? Becuase for the next several months, my dad watched and REWATCHED that game...as if there would be any other outcome than MSU winning over USC, like the space-time continuum had altered before the next viewing. That tape got watched so many times that the audio began to fade over time...to my delight! My dad also had a record (as in vinyl) of college fight marches, which he played while washing the cars on weekends. And people thought I was weird in terms of enjoying TV theme music!

For some reason in early 1988, I was not all that motivated to do schoolwork, at least well. I was too much onto being a goof-off with my pals, who often liked to goof off, but managed to keep a better balance.  My folks even made a little money arrangement for the 3rd quarter with me so I could earn some good bucks for As and Bs. While my smarmy ass said I could do it, by early April it was clear I was depending purely on luck rather than conscientiously doing what I needed to do. The 3rd quarter report card was a stinker...now, I have never earned an F in my life, though a few D's on that document grounded me in terms of high-falutin' attitude.

Also in April, we went on a day bus trip to New York City. There was not a whole lot of time, but we saw the United Nations, the Empire State Building, and Trump Tower, to my recollection. I definitely remember it was rainy, so we did not do that much walking.

In the last quarter of the school year, my efforts definitely increased and by the end I had a good report card. It was also a positive ending to my time at Wilson Central. In later years, after I had moved west, Central had become part of the high school, and a new junior high was built in Lower Heidelberg.

In the summer, we had another big family vacation...to Los Angeles! We had a good flight there and spent a few days roaming the area, including Marina Del Rey and some of the Pacific Coast up to Malibu, Knott's Berry Farm, Beverly Hills, and Universal Studios. We also took a side trip up to Las Vegas. In 1988, hotel rates even on weekends were reasonable. We stayed at the Sahara Hotel. My sister and I hung at the pool while my folks played a bit. We went to some buffet or another for dinner and walked the Strip a little bit. What I remember from that is that none of the modern gaudy buildings that are here now weren't in Vegas then.The next day, we went to Hoover Dam and did the whole tour...a dream to an engineer...in other words, my dad loved it! We returned to L.A. that same day and found a new hotel not far from the airport.

One other thing we did requires some background. There was a show on cable then called "Time Out for Trivia", a typical small studio operation hosted by KABC sports reporter Todd Donoho, where he gave sports trivia questions that were answered by call-in viewers. My parents had met with him (he was pretty accessible) on their Rose Bowl trip, so we arranged to come and be spectators on a show. My dad and I both had Time Out for Trivia t-shirts for the occasion.We still have the VHS tape.

Sad news came that summer about my Grandpa Fitz. He had developed a rapidly developing cancer and things were looking grim. In August, my mom and I went to Michigan to see him. He was at Beaumont Hospital (where I was born). It amazed and saddened me to see how weak he had become in his hospital bed. Terry and Erica were in town also. During that trip, I was at the hospital here and therem including a 70th birthday party at the hospital. Most of the time, Erica and I wandered to the mall in Troy across from my grandparents' apartment. One day, my aunt took us to Boblo Island, an amusement Park on the Detroit River. 

On the last day there, we said goodbye...I didn't realize it would be the last time I would see my grandfather. 

Terry and Erica came home with us. We made a little stop in Mansfield, Ohio to visit with my mom and Terry's cousin Tim Fitzmorris. I remember having a terrible headache when we got there, so I stayed behind while they went to a ballgame. The next day, we headed out and made our way back home to Pennsylvania.

A few days later, it was time for...drum roll...HIGH SCHOOL!! 10th GRADE!! It was the BIG LEAGUES!!

It was at this point in the Wilson school career when students from both junior highs came together for the final three years. Just like in 7th grade, I met a lot of new people...and reunited with others I had not seen since my Kindergarten days in Lower Heidelberg. There was of course Matt Brown, but also Sue Zimmerman, Heather Saggio, Jason Gibble, Valarie Kriner, Bobby Kalbach, Jason Hager, Aaron Klinger, and Amy Erb, to name a few standouts. I had expected to see another named Heidi Mumma, though I met her sister Gretchen in driver's ed class. Others I met for the first time were Adam Winchester, Tris Vaughan who would become a good friend in adulthood, Nikki Shenk, Tracy Gajewski, Linda Lee, Bill Ernst, Tracy Kleinsmith, Jessica Baum, Lee Miller, Sue Whitehead (who shared my birthday)James Noecker, Mike Miner, Vin Mingari, and Jason Mountz. In my BASIC computer class, I was with several seniors and juniors, one of them was a beautiful redhead named Jessica Shaaber....the funny things that pop up when thinking back!

For the starting lineup, I had...

In American hsitory (part deux) I had Timothy Kunkel. He wasn't too bad, depending on one's taste...a decent 1st period class. Kunkel was always clashing with Jack Ledbetter, which made for some interesting moments!

This year I had French 3, once again with Mademoiselle Williams. It was a pretty good class as I recall. Tim Rodenberger, Chris Myers, Troy Fisher, and I teamed up for a cooking lesson all in French one time. Karen Lewis, whom i had known for 7 years but not well, always seemed to be overly enthusiastic for that class while I looked for ways to get out of having to take another French class.  Had I seen California in my future, I would have taken Spanish instead.

And then there was biology with Doug Dahms...a class act of a teacher! I do credit him for not killing me and staging a suicide via scalpel accident when I couldn't get the gist of the anatomy of a damn frog one early morning personal tutoring session. Other than that, the man gave grading curves on quizzes so it was all good. I never fared better than a C in there, but that was my science aptitude then.

Advanced English was with Frank Yusella, a man who, to me at least, reminded me of Pat Sajak. He was ok, I was neither turned off nor inspired in there.

For a mid afternoon delight I had geometry with math master John Magala, another classic Wilson teacher. This was a man who knew his stuff and knew how to explain it in a few different ways. On days after tests, he would show us Super Chicken or George of the Jungle on the VCR while he graded.

And then there was the BASIC programming class with Wayne Bradburn. He had a pretty good no-nonsense style which enabled me to learn a lot and practice. Sadly, nobody uses BASIC anymore, so it is nothing to stick on a resmé.

Of course, no high schooler could get away with not taking P.E. The nice thing about this was that we could sign up for different units based on our interests. I think the highlight of P.E. for me was tennis. Dave Hoffman and I had a lot of fun in that class. We had 2 teachers:Ms Reifsnyder and Mr Dadamio.

In October, my Grandpa Fitz passed away. Luckily, the cancer worked fast in him and he did not have to suffer for long. My mom was already there when it happened as my dad had taken her. He came backa  few days later, picked me and Kristin up and drove back. I was a little more ready for this one than Bompa Moore's. There was a memorial service instead of a funeral, which helped a bit.

That Christmas, my grandma plus Terry and Erica came for Christmas. It was a crowded house for sure! My big gift was a weight set, seeing that I got so much out of it at school the previous year. Sadly, I didn't get into it that much. Well, that leads us without much ceremony into...

1989

An end of a couple of eras early in the year. Politically, Reagan was out and George Bush was in...which meant Reagan extension pretty much, just without the jelly beans. SNL got a rich 4 years off this term!

USA Network's run of "The Edge of Night" also ended in January, which meant no more tapings for me. I was still writing, though.

Things went pretty much in the school year as before. One cool thing I remember is that as spring came, I joined an intramural volleyball league in the evenings, run by Mr. Ruth. It was good to see him. We had a lot of fun! Derek Coller, Mark Dusko, Bill Ernst, and Tracy Gajewski were among the fellow players. On teh final night, we went to Pizza Hut to celebrate the end of a good time.

As finals approached, the end of another time was ending, that of sharing classes with Dave Hoffman. His family was moving to Pottstown. A going away party was held at someone's house and right after the St Ignatius carnival, he was gone.

This summer, aside from martial arts, I needed something else to do. A job sounded in order. I tried at BK, but they kept stalling, so I applied at McDonald's and started pretty soon after. I will say this, working in fast food brings in some decent extra cash and helps one to realize that fast food is not a desired professional future, unless you want to come home smelling of grease.

We took a trip to Michigan in July, as far as I could tell just to go somewhere. It wasn't exactly a great trip. Erica was visiting and was fairly snotty. Going golfing with my dad was preferable. 

Movies that summer included Batman, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Major League, Lethal Weapon 2, and Parenthood. Overall, that summer was taken up by the McJob, and it was a good change. Less can be said about summers over time, I suppose. It was time to get to the junior year.

New year, some new people, for better or worse. With that...

Starting in Chemistry with Mr Williamson! A very pleasant guy who mad elearning chemistry, especially balancing basic chemical equations, a snap! In this class I met a very sweet girl named Kris Koestel who sat in front of me. There was also a kid named Matt Stein who I had seen a few times the previous year, but decided to get on the "teasing-of-Moore" wagon. Eh, what can one do?

There was also Algebra 2 with Mrs Guigley. Like 10th grade English, I did not get much from this class other than laughs from the teacher's barely hidden 'stashe. She also lacked in the personality department, so we will leave it at that.

Once again, French with Madame Fisher. I had seen this woman snap once or twice before, but she had a few more moments in this year that seemed a bit scary. Apart form that, more of the same crap and I was glad to not take it again!

Right in that same circular pod was Advanced English with Mr Leininger. I really enjoyed this guy, he made English more fun than Yusella had. The reading selections were better as well. 

Of course there was P.E. with Reifsnyder and Dadamio...same old...

Right after that was social studies, which was cut in half that year. Part 1 was with Mr William Morgan and part 2 (starting in February) was with Mr Bernie Stoppi. Nothing really notable except Morgan's classic speech style...he just had a way about him. In that class I met a nice girl named Tammy Adams who had a little bun in the oven. She, like Kris Koestel, I still keep up with on social media.

My favorite class, though, was journalism with Mr Wisniewski. Tris was in that class as well, plus a cool guy I'd seen at Central a few times, Ryan Mitstifer, and a fun senior named Josh Gilbert. Mr. Wiz taught us good basic journalistic techniques that helped get our articles in the school newspaper. He was also a good ear if we were having troubles.

That fall, I was also feeling a little hole in my life, as well as a curiosity...a spiritual curiosity. One of my martial arts classmates Mark Mountz encouraged me to go to church with him one Sunday, righ tnear us in fact. It was St John's UCC. I liked the minister, Reverend Bill Miller. He had a style that agreed with me. Also going to the church was Jeremy Bitz and, a pleasant surprise, Amy Erb.  Through her, I met her 2 cousins, twins Ben and Bridgette Kozlowski. Soon after joining church I also joined the confirmation class where I met several other teens, including Ryan Corvaia and his sister Erin, Beth Falter, and others. 

We all were in the church youth group, where we met monthly at someone's house for functions called Snack n Yaks...no, not a bulimic session! We snacked, we chatted with guidance from youth minister Tom Johnston, sometimes played games. Pretty fun as I recall.

In November and December, our Wilson Bulldogs football team was gaining steam! My dad and I went to the game against Coatesville where our team won against all odds, putting them in the state championship vs a western state team, playing at Hershey. It was a cold, snowy night, and apart from our team losing I definitely remember being cold, even for living in PA winters for a long time!

In December, I decided that I had seen enough behind-the-counter action at McDonald's so I called it quits. For some reason I do not remember much about that Christmas. Ah well, not all in life is notable.

And with that, my foray into the 80s is complete.

There are definitely holes in my recounts, and definitely omissions. For example, I admit freely that I started liking girls early...and often (really always) awkwardly. Anyone who reads this stuff and knows me in and out (to an extent) probably knows who I liked all those times, from the first entry to this one.

I also have had periods of highs and lows throughout life in terms of spirit...I realized much later that I was suffering from bouts of depression, probably longer back than I relaized.

Such is life!

At some point will come the 90s!

The 1980s, part Quatre

"Holy time travel, Batman! What is the special guest villain Mr Moore up to now?!"

"Settle down, my wart, er WARD. He's just in the 80s again. Not quite ready for his final caper."

Yes indeed, it is time for another trip into the 80s. We have come a long way so far, from a constantly moving family to being firmly established in a house and school district and parents firmly in their jobs. A far cry from the 1970s for the Moores. With that, we head into...

1986

This year was actually a bit bizarre compared to the past few before this. On the homefront, my dad had been called away to another far-off job site, this time in Berkeley, California, for long periods of time. 

During the end of the Christmas break, I had found a show on USA late at night that I had caught a few times before that in previous years: The Edge of Night. This was a soap opera that revolved around crime and mystery. I started to record it nightly, sometimes thwarted by a parent or sister who took the VCR program off. The Edge of Night was important to me because it got me wanting to write my own stories. Whew, how THAT has evolved over time!

Also soon into this year, my sister's year and a half romance with Chris had come to an end, and she found a new guy soon after that, a quieter one named Rob. He was ok, I liked him, but he wasn't as outgoing as Chris.

At school, I was getting used to the rigors of junior high, lugging my stuff around instead of locker stops, but that's what worked for me. As there were only 3 main classroom corridors plus P.E. in the north end and art and shop on the west hallway, Wilson Central was easy to navigate.

Lunchtime was pretty fun. Unlike the elementary school offerings, we tended to have more of a choice of what we could have, plus a salad bar. If I recall correctly, there seemed to be an overorder of meat by the district, because we had a lot of choices for protein by year's end. I generally sat with a good set of friends: Mike Eisenhower, A.J. Geiss, Jez Lickter, and Derek Coller. I had known Derek since the third grade, but hadn't hung with him much. Starting in 7th grade, I was hanging with him a little more often, and by high school we were good buds.

For Valentine's Day, the school had an interesting sale going: carnations to a potential sweetie or established sweetie, with varying colors denoting levels of sweetie-ness. There were also surveys that found potential matches. I seem to recall lying my ass off on those, which resulted in matches I couldn't quite believe....but then I assume others lied as well. I can't imagine these things happen anymore (the surveys, not lying).

Before I knew it, the climax of the year was upon us and I was about to experience the rituals of final exams for the first time. I had notebooks for every major class with extensive notes in each, so I had some cram sessions before each test. Generally how it worked was, we went into a room like the gym or cafeteria and took a multi-page test, often filling in the answers on a scantron sheet. Oh, those were the days! After we were done, we'd go hang out someplace like outside the school. We weren't all that supervised after finishing a test, just on the honor system, knowing full well attendance was taken in the PM as well. 

And then, it was summer! An unsually LONG one at that, but I'll get into that soon. I went to one last session of scout camp at Hawk Mountain. It was pretty good, I knew how things worked and had a great time. In July, my dad decided to take my sister and I on another trip, this time to California. Even though I was cooped up with my sister again, I enjoyed this trip a bit more. The Bay Area was a lot more fun to explore when my dad was off of work. At the end, he took us on a brief jaunt to Yosemite...I learned a new meaning to being rushed....I wrote about this one previously: https://bitethismapquest.blogspot.com/2011/08/yosemitein-less-than-day.html 

At the end of that trip, my dad and I flew back to Pennsylvania while my sister spent some time with my aunt and family in San Diego. My dad returned to Berekley soon after that.

Apart from that, the summer of 1986 consisted of riding bikes with my friends, watching Edge, and staying up late followed by massive sleep-ins, sometimes until after noon! Movies seen included Big Trouble in Little China, The Money Pit, Back to School, Ruthless People, and Karate Kid part 2.

Our cable system was also upgraded from the old system of just a cord in the TV to a cord connected to a decoder box on the TV to the VCR and finally to the TV set. With the box came a little remote and we now had access to even more channels we didn't watch, though Nick at Nite was a fun one for old shows. Because of this new setup, the cable box had to be left on USA for Edge to tape. Many episodes were not seen due to the box being on the wrong channel (lukcily I have them all on disc and accessible on Youtube now).

But trouble was brewing in our lives. As the school year's beginning should have commenced, there was the famous Wilson teacher's strike! Lots of kids found themselves dangerously unsupervised for an extra month, me included. Well, for me that was not exactly true. Having a mom who worked in a college library meant having a mom who could find things to keep my brain occupied with something other than unattainable girls! She found me some math books to read and do practice from. She also had me watch a historical movie or 2 and write reports on them.

As October came, the strike came to a close and we started the 8th grade late...and with  a lot of  time to catch up on. The 8th grade line-up was as follows:

Physical Science: Mr Guisewite, an older character we had fun with....often at his expense.

8th grade advanced English with Ms Stephanie Brok, probably the coolest junior high teacher I can remember...the strike had not affected her fun attitude with the class.

Math with Mr. Schweigert again, same old same old.

Writing with Dr. Skinkus...Doc, as he allowed me to call him. He could be seen as stuffy at times, but I got along with him fine.

Shop was more focused on architectural design this year while Home Ec was Home Ec. And again one part of the year was art while the other part was music. PE was always PE.

Social studies was in the form of world history with Ms Steigerwalt.

And then there was French I with Mademoiselle Judith Williams. Ah the joy of conjugating French verbs and counting to 20...looking back, that was a fun class. We got to give ourselves French names....I went with Damian at first but after some teasing I switched to Gabriel...which drew more teasing. I seemed to attract it, nerd I was! I was generally referred to as "Gabby" that year in AND out of French class. The joys of early teenhood.

With a new year came a few new acquaintances, some I had met briefly in 7th but got to know better in 8th: Heather Peterson, Robyn Stauffer( a gorgeous redhead), and Megan Varndell, all in my science class; Corey Chick, an upbeat fun girl; Brian Krupa in English and study hall; JJ Suk; Mary Panos in my homeroom; Dave Hoffman, a wacky new friend who became part of our gang. Along with them I saw a lot of Whitfield alumni liem Kevin Fehr, Joe Lenart, Bill Gillmore, Zach Hunchar, Derek Coller, Mike Eisenhower, Kim Schroll, Karen Wiley, Pete Coldren, James Cooke, Jez Likter, and A.J. (those 2 had a fun banter!). Jeremy Bitz was finaly in 7th, though he was hanging more with Ed Kern than me...and Mike Stout had had trouble in 7th so he was held back and not seen much anymore. Ah, alliances at those ages are definitely more fluid.

Shortly after the school year began, I went with my folks on a weekend trip to Michigan to attend a Michigan State homecoming game. During that trip, I experienced a Moore men round of golf: my dad, Bompa Moore, and my Uncle Chris. We had breakfast at the Red Run Country Club before playing...well, I didn't play, but I saw some muted tempers after a bad shot...hell, I was happy just to hit the ball at the driving range. This would turn out to be the last time I saw Bompa Moore as well as spend time in the Fitzmorris house on Alicia Court. 😢

Christmas break was a bit abbreviated as we had time to catch up on at school, and attended a few days between Christmas and New Year, though we got the afternoon of New Year's Eve off. My grandparents came, and notably it was the last Christmas I would spend with Grandpa Fitz.😢

1987

Not so much upheaval this year aside from a major loss and an interest change (not financial!). Not much happened in January. My dad seemed to be at home more now, riding his exercise bike regularly. Kristin was still with Rob, and my mom was still happy at Kutztown.

In February, my Bompa Moore had a fall and he was taken to the hospital. We talked to him on the phone on his 75th birthday...and the next day he had died. I remember it vividly. I was sitting in science class when the call came to come to the office. My dad was there and I knew. It took a bit to track down my sister (in P.E. I think), but once the clan was togehter, we made for Michigan, getting there at about 10p.m. My Aunt Bonnie and Uncle Chris were at the Moore house looking after Bompa's wife Phyllis. I slept on the couch in the den. During that sad trip, I spent some time with my mom's folks, who had moved from their house in Royal Oak to an apartment in Troy. I was missing the bar and ping pong table in the old basement, but the new place was very birght and cheerful. I cried a lot at the viewing, it was my first exposure to real death as a teenager and I wasn't handling it well. I fared a bit better at the funeral. In that trip I also saw some of my Aunt Terry and cousin Erica who happened to be in town. We along wiith Terry's friend Marilyn went for a visit to Greenfield Village and the henry Ford Museum in Dearborn one day...it was a welcome repsite from the sad occasion.

A few weeks later, my dad and I took a rented truck back to Michigan and, with Uncles Chris and Harvey, got a lot of Bompa's stuff, including the majority of his Lionel trains and his bar. We also took some things to Uncle Chris's house in Ferndale. Before leaving, we had breakfast with Uncle Chris and Uncle Harvey....a pleasant Bon Voyage before the long trek home.

Somehow that whole experience sort of dragged my mood down for the rest of the school year. Granted I was 14 and fairly moody and hormonal anyway, so it wasn't a stretch. My interest in schoolwork had decreased a bit, resulting in decreased grades. 

Meanwhile, my dad set about remodeling our basement into a 2part room. One part was laundry and tools while the other part was a newly carpeted and foam-tiled ceiling with the bar, shelves with the trains, and some furniture to make the room more amenable to hanging out in.A nice riase in property value!

By June, my sister was graduating from high school. My mom's folks came out for the occasion. For me, it was another killer session of finals, going well into the last part of June. 

Soon afterward, we took a fmaily vacation to Yosemite, this time not so rushed. A limo service driver took us to Newark where we stayed at a strange hotel called the Franklin Inn (I believe because it was cheap and close to the airport). We didn't touch much and got some room service. Next morning, we flew into Reno and took the eastern approach, which was more scenic. We stayed in a motel in Bridgeport, California, then crossed into the park the next morning, staying in the motel we'd stayed at the previous year, the Yosemite View Inn in metro El Portal. As it was only a place to sleep, it worked. Aside from horseback riding, we hiked and drove. A very fun trip! On the way home, we got to Minneapolis ok, but our plane to Newark was canceled, so we had to grab a flight to O'Hare on one airline (American) and then to Newark on another (Continental). Luckily, our limo service driver was waiting at the baggage claim in Newark so our ride home was safe...we got home at 3a.m.

Later that summer, I resigned my commission in the Boy Scouts (3 years did it for me) and I began taking Tae Kwon Do classes, getting into good shape. In August, I flew by myself to Michigan to spend time with my mom's folks and Erica,who was also visiting. We spent some good time together and even had an early birthday party for my grandfather's 69th.

Movies seen: 3 Men and a Baby, Stakeout, The Untouchables, Beverly Hills Cop 2, Dragnet, and Summer School. 

Come September, it was time to begin the 9th grade, and ON TIME with happier teachers. I generally saw pretty much the same people in terms of classmates and friends. Classes were as follows:

-Earth and Space with Carolyn Houtz...Dave Hoffman and I goofed around a lot in there, and my grades showed it!

-Advanced English with Doc Skinkus...this one was fun with Jez Likter and Brian Krupa and other fun folks. A decent amount of Shakespeare in there among other titles.

-French with Madame Nancy Fisher...for this one, Stacie Matchicka and I walked up to the high school. We were with generally high schoolers, sort of out of our league but it made for exercise anyway.

-Algebra with Mr. Zimmerman...Dave was with me in here too, we had some fun but also helped each other with the new math system.

-U.S. (part 1) History with Mr Harry Miller, we had fun in here with Jez, Casie, Mary, Jessica, and Jack.

-Art and music halvsies again. I enjoyed music a bit more since there was a rock focus.

-Home Ec and Shop halvsies again. I remember slicing a finger just a tad in shop...oops. I self-healed there without a tetanus shot. In Home Ec, Corey Chick and I seemed to make a pretty good team in the cooking part of the class.

-General Business with Reggie Weiss...really some good sense stuff when it came to money management. Jez and Zach and A.J. were in that class along with an older girl named Candy Strasser who had experienced a teenage pregnancy and was playing catch-up. What I remember here is Reggie Weiss telling Zach, "Stop being an asshole," when he kept messing around.

-And then there was P.E. Somehow in a scheduling mix up I got out of swimming that year and got put with a bunch of the athletes in the weightlifting program. Something else new for me...Mr Ruth really helped me to set goals and by the year's end I had a little tone going.

Kyle Kline had been one of my major teasers for a while, but by the middle of the year we were getting along pretty well...we were even partners on a rainy muddy relay day Mr Ruth had impending for us.

For my 15th birthday, I had a sleepover with a bunch of buddies...one of whom brought a "blue" VHS tape, if you get my drift. Ah memories!

At Christmas, I got a brand new computer desk...you know, a big old set of particle board with a fake wood finish. It took my dad almost all day, but I finally had a new place to play and write. I was also in an early form of "online", with a modem calling 'bulletin board systems" to post messages and download games, some that worked, others didn't. That was a pretty good Christmas as I recall! Shortly after, my parents went to pasadena for the Rose Bowl, since Michigan State was in it...meaning my sister and I were by ourselves (she was home for the holidays anyway). We mostly stayed out of each others' way, even on New Year's Eve, when she had some friends over to party. Jez and I roamed the neighborhoods visiting people and spent the night at my house.

1987 started off sadly, but ended on a better note!

The 1980s: Part 3

"Marty! Where's the damn plutonium?"

"Why, Doc?"

"Moore is going on another trip to the past!"

"Back to the past?"

"Shut up, you'll make me lose my place!"

Anyhow, continuing on my journey through the 80s as I saw them (with a certain mix of joy and jaundice), we come to the mid 80s. So far, I have covered 2nd grade through half of 5th. 

1984

With a lot of my earlier years involving a move to another neighborhood or another state altogether, it is pleasant to reflect that the Moore family was finally in a long-term comfy zone. We lived in a good neighborhood, my sister and I were in a great school system, and my parents were pretty happy in their jobs.

In early 1984, my dad gave me an idea through one of his bosses to join the boy scouts. It was something different and exciting, though I had not risen in the ranks of cub scouts or webelos. One thing I can definitely say after three years in scouts is that I still sucked at tying knots! We went on a lot of neat camping trips and saw some cool stuff among the many hikes we did. 

In school, 5th grade proceeded as normal. one big thing I remember is that Ms Kalbach was out sick for an extended time, like 2 or more weeks. And we all know how great kids are with a sub when subjected to them for more than one or two days! I do  not remember getting that bad in behavior, just complacent. I also made a decision that year to not do homework as I was getting sick of it...spelling and math grades went down a hair due to that attitude. When Ms Kalbach returned...well, I believe we got a tongue-lashing that no other teacher had ever given to my memory! In fact, I recall having some class therapy sessions where Ms Kalbach was trying to bring us back as a class community. No other huge events for the rest of the year, apart from a fairly light winter! In fact, we got out on June 5, much earlier than usual, making for a good-length summer!

I remember one weekend, my parents went to New York and her coworker Nancy watched me and my sister. We went and got a bite to eat, then she let me play at the Berkshire Mall arcade (making me trust her implicitly!)  for a bit, followed by seeing the movie "Splash".

That summer was very busy for me! First up was a week of scout camp. Now, I had been to other scout camping weekends as well as sleepovers with a friend. I was not quite as prepared for a week away as I had thought, giving way for some homesickness. One or two others had it a bit worse. Apart form that, camp was a lot of fun, with merit badge session, meals at the dining hall, hikes, swims, and general campsite nonsense. I shared a tent with someone I didn't really care for in terms of personality, Jason Huckabee. That acquaintanceship got worse as time went on, and I learned long after graduation that he had been found dead in a car trunk...that one was never solved.

ANYHOO, after scout camp, we hosted a French excahnge student named Manuel Abelan. It was like having a brother for a few weeks. I bombarded him with my nerdiness and we also took some trips, both day trips. One was to good ol Hersheypark and another was Washington, D.C....the latter is always tough in one day! My mom, sister, and I took a trip to Michigan while my dad stayed behind to get Manuel back to his departure site the same day we left. What I recall of that Michigan trip specifically is that I was now a bit taller than my grandma! 

In terms of entertainment, we saw some good movies that summer: Ghostbusters, Star Trek 3: The Search for Spock, Revenge of the Nerds, and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.  Apart from that, I played and biked with my friends. Jeremy and I generally biked around Whitfield and Drexelwood, stopping at Mr Food for a hot dog and drink. He made a deal with me once that if we rode by a certian girl's house (I do not remember the name), he'd spring for my snack forever after that...as Mr Food changed ownership sometime after that, the deal appears null and void! Rats!

Come fall, it was time for 6th grade, the final grade in elementary. The way things worked was, about a week before school started, you went to the school where there were a bunch of papers on the doors saying who was in whom's room. I was delighted that I got to be with Mrs. Southworth again! She was as high-spirited as ever, though a bit sterner at times with the 6th graders. We had an interesting crew that year. If my teacher had some struggles with Marcus Turner a couple of years back, she had about double that with a 5th grade retainee named Curtis Ebeling, a guy who gave me a hard time often. Had I the gumption then, I would have risked detention just to kick the crap out of him. Alas, a geek is a geek, so on the back remained my target. Thankfully, I wasn't a constant target. Jason Huckabee was in that class as well, making the teacher's life even more itneresting.

We switched classes all day: Mrs Zellers for social studies, focus was on Canada and Latin America that year; Mrs Smith then later Snyder for English and writing, Mr Frantz for science (probably our favorite time all day) and Mrs Southworth for math. In the afternoon we did reading with whomever we were put with, for me it was Mr. Frantz.

Two big things happened that year. First, my voice was no longer a sweet squeak, it had lowered an octave or 2.  Second, I joined the 6th grade chorus, which ended up being the majority of the 6th grade population. Under the supervision of Mr Peter Sunderman, we had a really good time and put on both a Christmas and Spring concert.

Friendwise, I was playing with Jake Birmingham, Mike Eisenhower, and Mike Stout quite a bit that year.

Another development that fall was my mom moving from Penn State's library to Kutztown, going from part to full time. It was further cementing of where we were for some time to come! Plus, my sister was dating a slightly older high school student named Chris. I remember liking him quite a bit!

At Christmas, my mom's parents came. I am not sure exactly what I got that year aside from more Atari games and clothes...at that point, it was probably enough.

1985

I remember this being a year of some changes here and there, but just to make life more interesting. In terms of school, things kept right on going as usual. It is here that I want to take a pause and rate the wonderful specialists we had over the years.

Mr. Sunderman: a pretty good music teacher who handled the piano well. He was open to singing some new material aside from the classic folk songs we sang over and over....songs which would likely NOT be allowed today!

Mr. Gehman: a good gym teacher who exposed us to lots of sports, track events, and, my favorite...GYMNASTICS! In the cold witner months, we were not outside. Instead, the cafeteria tables folded into the walls and he brought out the mats, horse, and trampolines. We also played basketball and volleyball in there on rainy days. Mr Gehman also kept track of our physical fitness through calisthnetic exercises. I was proud when i was finally able to do a couple of pull-ups in 6th grade!

Mrs Shaefer: I will give her this, she really tried to teach me art, I just wasn't getting it. Not the most patient person, we just didn't click over time. 

Mrs Hasson: As a librarian, she was decent. She taught us the card catalog system for finding books, especially when it later came to research. Our class visits to the library were only about a half hour once ever couple of weeks, and often independently during reading time.

On the homefront, my mom was enjoying her new job at Kutztown quite a lot. My dad was starting a long period where he was being sent out of town for jobs, as Gilbert Commonwealth was not able to keep a lot of its work at home anymore. Three Mile Island 6 years previously had really damaged the organization. In this particular year he was being sent to either Bethesda, Maryland or Crystal River, Florida. 

Sixth grade ended quite nicely with a graduation ceremony. It really does anger me how our current situation deprived our fifth graders of their rite of passage activities. That is something we can never make up to them.

Come summer, activities included more scout camp, though I was more ready for it this time and had a lot of fun! I also for the first time got a crew cut, which grew to be a favorite hairstyle for a long time. 

My dad also decided to bring me and my sister to Florida on one of his trips. I was pretty excited about this trip since I had not been on a plane in 4 years. However, my sister and I in a crmaped hotel room was not always the best of situation. Talking with her about it last year, she remembers it as not being so bad, since she always had a book to read. Perspectives are key! On this trip we went to see "Back to the Future" and also traveled to Sea World in Orlando after my mom joined us. When we left, my dad had to stay on a bit longer.

Some excitement was in the air as junior high approached. Yes, we were really going to enjoy the rewards of switching classes...8 times! The rewards of learning a locker combination! The rewards of rushing to get to a class! The rewards of changing into gym clothes on those days! Yep, the new time in life had come upon me! It was pretty neat, though, once you learned the school's layout. It was all one story, so that helped.

For social studies, I had Mr. Miller. An older guy with a dry (almost none) sense of humor.

For Advanced English, I had Mrs.Gillmore. She was great with poetry and Greek mythology. A very nice person she was.

For science, I had Mr Gerhardt, a pretty pleasant guy, though I don't remember exactly what I learned there.

For math, I had Mr Schweigert. This guy had personality, sometimes good, sometimes not, but we got along pretty well.

For reading, I had Mrs Frebel, though I remember doing our first research(term) paper for that class.

P.E. and swimming was conducted by Mr. Thomas Ruth, a fairly young guy with a good sense of humor and not putting up with adolescent excuses. The art teacher was Mrs Pettis(a slightly more personable version of Mrs Schaefer). What was cool about her class was her kiln!, Half a year of that and a half year of music with Mrs Deatrich.   The shop teacher was Mr. Witman, we did half a year of shop and half a year of home ec with Mrs Wardrop. Health with Mr Nye, a man with a bit of a central PA twang. Mr. Weidner was my homeroom teacher as well as an English and German teacher, but I had him only for homeroom. I also got to experience something called study hall at the end of most every day...a good time to sneakily get homework done, draw naughty pictures, and generally be quiet for the teacher who had the bad luck to draw the study hall short straw.

It was a new experience to be sure! I also met a lot of kids who came from other elementary schools. A few that come to mind are Jeff Stump who became a pretty good high school football player; Marcy Klontz, Tara Snyder, Casie and Stacie Matchicka, and Jack Ledbetter, among others I saw fairly frequently in classes. The kids from Southern Junior High were bussed in for swimming. 

One thing I must say for swimming: I finally got over my odd fear of the pool's deep end that year after so long...and just in time to learn the fine art of swamping a canoe just to climb back into it!

It was the first year I was not walking to or from school with Jeremy or Eric, both still in elementary.

Another new bit was Friday dances. Being a bit socially awkward then (as if I'm Dean Martin now!), I didn't go at first. Then I slowly got into it, not really getting the hang of them except to hang with friends and then maybe pizza later.

In October, our family went to a Fitzmorris reunion in northern Michigan. We flew to Detroit and met up with my grandparents, Aunt Terry, and cousin Erica, the latter 2 I had not seen in 4 years.  We drove up to the northern part of the lower peninsula to a palce called Canada Creek, a family timeshare. Once there, we met with my great Uncle Bob and Aunt Phyllis, their kids Mike and Tim, Mike's girlfriend Lisa, Tim's wife Terri, and kids Jeff and Brad. We had a lot of fun for the long weekend, then headed back home on a Monday.

Before Christmas break, we as a school went to the high school auditorium ( a small walk) to watch a movie, I believe it was "Return of the Jedi" that year. When it was over, we grabbed our stuff and went home!

At Christmas, I got the first of many 'mystery gift' ruses by my dad. He puts all sorts of messages all over the living room saying "look here", and "check this palce out"), and finally I open up the door to a room and see the big payoff. In this case it was a Commodore 64 computer! The printer sucked but all else was great. It was the mouseless age, where everything was typed in., although you could plug in an Atari joystick to play games. And through my dad's work's computer room, I got a TON of games on floppy disc! That was quite a great way to end the year!