Get off my LAWN! "Grumpy Old Farts"

[GonePlaid]

My usual instrument in high school was bass clarinet, but I played tenor sax in marching band. Our rehearsal period was followed by lunch, but back in the 60s the fire houses would blow the air raid siren at noon. Very often we'd be marching down to the football field when the noon siren would go. The saxophone squad started playing with the siren as it slowly rose, then stayed at pitch forEVER, then slowly fell. It gave us great glee, for we were the saxophones. The director never even turned to look at us. Of course we would mimic the siren.

Yup. Me too also. Bass clarinet in marching band is useless unless you have a whole line of them. Then maybe they can be heard more than 5 feet away. Tenor for marching. Our sax section also may have been certifiable. We definitely f---ed* around a lot in rehearsals, but the director knew we'd be there in performance. We always were.

*ool

 

[markwrob]

Likely more accurate than I'm ready to 'fess to

It took me until 8th grade to realize there could be too much grease on the cork under the mouthpiece. Until then, I was almost always sharp within 5 minutes of tuning.

 

[the harp unstrung]

Don't you mean "bitte"?



1st grade, Catholic school.....Sister is discussing difference between soft and hard, asks if water coming out of the faucet is soft or hard. Calls on me, who having been the recipient of many blasts from the hose, courtesy of my older siblings, answers "It can be really hard, especially if it's in the eyes or up the nose". This is NOT the answer she was looking for, so I received her standard corporal punishment of 5 strokes of a wooden ruler on my open palm.

Except she applied her last stroke with a little too much vigor, which changed the angle of incidence, and......remember how wooden rulers had a small metal strip on one edge, so you could drag your pencil alongside it to draw a straight line?......you guessed it. She sliced my palm wide open.
Pain, but not much else.....at first.
Then the blood came....lots of it.
She was horrified.
The girls started gagging, the boys were more "wow, cool".
I could tell she felt terrible, but being the total sh!t I was, I wasn't going to let her off easy.
I looked back and forth between her eyes and my hand several times, then made a career decision, and wiped my hand on the front of my crisply starched white school uniform shirt. I thought she was going to pass out at this sacrilege.

Sent me to the nurses office, who wrapped my hand, and recommended stitches. Called my Mom to come get me, but I had a plan in progress, so I told Mom she could take me to the Doc's after school.
Went back to class, looking like I had a sucking chest wound (did I mention there was a lot of blood?) and made the penguin stare at it the rest of the day!

Epilogue: The next day the Mother Superior declared a moratorium on corporal punishment, and future discipline would be handled by a stern talking to from her.
Mates looked upon me as a hero, maybe even a Second Coming...."I suffer for all the children" etc., etc.

I thought it all hilarious, and noticed the girls looked at me differently somehow!

PS....my Mom failed to see the humor in the situation, especially after seeing my shirt, taking me for 17 stitches in my hand (owee, owee, owee) and hearing the reason for the episode.
Her subsequent visit to the school, and private conference with the MS, and the Sister in question, was the stuff legends are made from!!!
Still surprised we weren't excommunicated.

...beautifully written...
Evocative!

 

[GonePlaid]

It took me until 8th grade to realize there could be too much grease on the cork under the mouthpiece. Until then, I was almost always sharp within 5 minutes of tuning.

Cork Grease? We don't need no stinkin'...never mind.

 

[GonePlaid]

Don't you mean "bitte"?



1st grade, Catholic school.....Sister is discussing difference between soft and hard, asks if water coming out of the faucet is soft or hard. Calls on me, who having been the recipient of many blasts from the hose, courtesy of my older siblings, answers "It can be really hard, especially if it's in the eyes or up the nose". This is NOT the answer she was looking for, so I received her standard corporal punishment of 5 strokes of a wooden ruler on my open palm.

Except she applied her last stroke with a little too much vigor, which changed the angle of incidence, and......remember how wooden rulers had a small metal strip on one edge, so you could drag your pencil alongside it to draw a straight line?......you guessed it. She sliced my palm wide open.
Pain, but not much else.....at first.
Then the blood came....lots of it.
She was horrified.
The girls started gagging, the boys were more "wow, cool".
I could tell she felt terrible, but being the total sh!t I was, I wasn't going to let her off easy.
I looked back and forth between her eyes and my hand several times, then made a career decision, and wiped my hand on the front of my crisply starched white school uniform shirt. I thought she was going to pass out at this sacrilege.

Sent me to the nurses office, who wrapped my hand, and recommended stitches. Called my Mom to come get me, but I had a plan in progress, so I told Mom she could take me to the Doc's after school.
Went back to class, looking like I had a sucking chest wound (did I mention there was a lot of blood?) and made the penguin stare at it the rest of the day!

Epilogue: The next day the Mother Superior declared a moratorium on corporal punishment, and future discipline would be handled by a stern talking to from her.
Mates looked upon me as a hero, maybe even a Second Coming...."I suffer for all the children" etc., etc.

I thought it all hilarious, and noticed the girls looked at me differently somehow!

PS....my Mom failed to see the humor in the situation, especially after seeing my shirt, taking me for 17 stitches in my hand (owee, owee, owee) and hearing the reason for the episode.
Her subsequent visit to the school, and private conference with the MS, and the Sister in question, was the stuff legends are made from!!!
Still surprised we weren't excommunicated.

I should resist...but I can't.

 

[Charlie Tango]

I should resist...but I can't.

One of my very favorites.

 

[Greywoulf]

"Don't you mean "bitte"?

Sorry, phonetic spelling...
One of the German expressions I remember we GI's fractured and used constantly was; "Mox nix". Stands for "Es macht nichts!" Meant: It doesn't matter.... Or, Forget about it... Or, So what? Or, I don't give a good s**t...
Needed a good shrug to put it over effectively...
Mox nix!
Greywoulf

 

[2tonic]

Aach....I thought you might be ordering a stein of something.....weird.

Ich glaube nicht!!!

 

[beans-on-toast]

1st grade, Catholic school.....Sister is discussing difference between soft and hard, asks if water coming out of the faucet is soft or hard. Calls on me, who having been the recipient of many blasts from the hose, courtesy of my older siblings, answers "It can be really hard, especially if it's in the eyes or up the nose". This is NOT the answer she was looking for, so I received her standard corporal punishment of 5 strokes of a wooden ruler on my open palm.

Except she applied her last stroke with a little too much vigor, which changed the angle of incidence, and......remember how wooden rulers had a small metal strip on one edge, so you could drag your pencil alongside it to draw a straight line?......you guessed it. She sliced my palm wide open.
Pain, but not much else.....at first.
Then the blood came....lots of it.
She was horrified.
The girls started gagging, the boys were more "wow, cool".
I could tell she felt terrible, but being the total sh!t I was, I wasn't going to let her off easy.
I looked back and forth between her eyes and my hand several times, then made a career decision, and wiped my hand on the front of my crisply starched white school uniform shirt. I thought she was going to pass out at this sacrilege.

Sent me to the nurses office, who wrapped my hand, and recommended stitches. Called my Mom to come get me, but I had a plan in progress, so I told Mom she could take me to the Doc's after school.
Went back to class, looking like I had a sucking chest wound (did I mention there was a lot of blood?) and made the penguin stare at it the rest of the day!

Epilogue: The next day the Mother Superior declared a moratorium on corporal punishment, and future discipline would be handled by a stern talking to from her.
Mates looked upon me as a hero, maybe even a Second Coming...."I suffer for all the children" etc., etc.

I thought it all hilarious, and noticed the girls looked at me differently somehow!

PS....my Mom failed to see the humor in the situation, especially after seeing my shirt, taking me for 17 stitches in my hand (owee, owee, owee) and hearing the reason for the episode.
Her subsequent visit to the school, and private conference with the MS, and the Sister in question, was the stuff legends are made from!!!
Still surprised we weren't excommunicated.

For the record, water can be hard or soft depending on the mineral level. It depends on where you live. Soft water foams more with laundry soap. The nun would have lost in court.

Legends are made on stories like yours. The worst I ever had was bruised hands from the strap. Then you were told to go wash your hands in cold water.

I do remember those rulers, wielded like weapons. There were also the pointers and the thrown chalk board brushes. If you fell asleep, there was always the good shaking with your head bobbing back and forth.

At some schools you had to pull down your trousers and they’d give you a caning on the backside.

Caning - Wikipedia

 

[Jeff Scott]

At some schools you had to pull down your trousers and they’d give you a caning on the backside.

Caning - Wikipedia

So, you got to moon the whole class, or just the penguin?

 

[beans-on-toast]

So, you got to moon the whole class, or just the penguin?

At my junior high public school, humiliation was intended to be part of the process. Punishment was usually metered out in private in the vice-principal’s office. But there was the whole being sent to the office thing that went with it. I recall one teacher loosing it. He yelled “Look laddy, I can pick you up”. He grabbed the kid and lifted him above his head.

Some of the kids at the catholic school lived in an orphanage. The penguins were hard on them. The kids didn’t grow up knowing how to act out in the world, perhaps they were acting up to gain attention.

 

[BargeOn]

My elementary school had an electric paddle machine.
We never actually saw anyone getting paddled, but we herd it.
The coincidence of the elecrric paddle noise and the appearance of mimeographed test papers seems not to have registered with us.

 

[notJaco]

In 1968, public high school I was asked (told) to get a hair cut. RULES!

 

[beans-on-toast]

In 1968, public high school I was asked (told) to get a hair cut. RULES!

There was the sit-in movement. Important topics such as drop the school uniform.

 

[GonePlaid]

In 1968, public high school I was asked (told) to get a hair cut. RULES!

Ya shoulda seen 64, lotta rules. T-shirts as undershirts or at phys ed only, collared shirts, no jeans, dress type shoes(sneakers only for phys ed),fairly short hair[DA's were frowned on], girls dresses hadda touch their knees, etc.

 

[GwenOnBass]

If you kneel the hem of your skirt has to touch the floor. Culottes mean being sent home to change.

 

[Jeff Scott]

...fairly short hair[DA's were frowned on]...

Vas ist das?

 

[beans-on-toast]

Ya shoulda seen 64, lotta rules. T-shirts as undershirts or at phys ed only, collared shirts, no jeans, dress type shoes(sneakers only for phys ed),fairly short hair[DA's were frowned on], girls dresses hadda touch their knees, etc.

Pretty much the same at that time. We had to wear dress pants and a school sweater. Weekly haircuts. Profits went to the school so there was motivation to keep the policy.

Those that smoked had to do so outside the wing exits. Dope heads in the late 60’s went out to the football field. They could scramble from there if raided. Eventually they had a smoking room for students. Teachers smoked in the teacher’s room. Nobody smoked in class.

 

[G-Dog]

"Don't you mean "bitte"?

Sorry, phonetic spelling...
One of the German expressions I remember we GI's fractured and used constantly was; "Mox nix". Stands for "Es macht nichts!" Meant: It doesn't matter.... Or, Forget about it... Or, So what? Or, I don't give a good s**t...
Needed a good shrug to put it over effectively...
Mox nix!
Greywoulf

I tried to be real polite when I visited Germany, but they still looked at me funny when I'd say "donkey shine" or "bitter shine". Maybe I got 'em mixed up?
.

 

[spiritbass]

Yeah, I was the guy with the longest hair in school. The only person who had a 'problem' with it was the gym coach. He wouldn't let me wear my headband during P.E.