Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts

Monday, September 1, 2025

September 1st


Spending the first of September fiddling and tinkering in the basement, getting ready for the big day.  Everything's going really well and I'm definitely ahead of schedule.
  
As a child, September was the ugly end of summer vacation.  I recall worrying about September by the end of each July.  The worrying practically ruined August.  I tried to force myself to savor the break from school, to mentally will the days to go slower.  They never did.

September also meant that Halloween was around the corner...  and Thanksgiving and Christmas soon after.  It felt like being bamboozled.  We had to do this one [horrid] thing in order to get these other [great] things.  I can recall asking my mother every morning "How many more days until school?"  She probably couldn't wait.

The prison routine was easy to pick up once we started back.  Before you knew it, the weather was crisp and cool and decorations for Fall and Halloween were getting hung.  We spoke of our costume plans and talked about scary movies.  Teachers shut off the lights and told ghost stories.  We made napkin ghosts and ate mellowcreme pumpkins.  

I can recall a particularly windy Fall day where I gazed out the window of a classroom that faced the wooded area that backed up against the narrow parking lot next to the school.  The window was on the third floor, so it offered a terrific view of the creek that ran through those woods. We spent so much of our free time down in those woods, and along that creek.  Leaves were flying from the trees with each gust of wind, and the trees were already thinning.  A small dirt path ran along the creek, and I found myself staring at it, imagining a classic Witch moving along it.  I swear that I imagined it so clearly that it was like watching it happen.  She hurried along, with her back to me, as the leaves snowed down around her.  I turned to a kid next to me and tried to explain what I was seeing in my head, but it surely came out as goofy, and ranty (I've seen that look a million times since then [proportionate to my rantings]).

I'd like to think that it was one of those formative moments... one of those sparks that I carried with me.  Something that made me want to build and photograph spooky props when I figured out how to build them.  Oddly, thinking about that today made me extremely grateful smartphones didn't exist back then.  Heck, the Internet didn't either.  I dread to think how having the ability to instantly view such a scene...a Witch walking along a leafy path... would have satiated my thoughts, and dulled my creativity.  And I can't even comprehend what A.I. would have done to my motivation.  I feel like so much of my process starts with "You know what would be neat?!" and to be able to google that neat thing, or to create it instantly with A.I., well, I'm thinking I wouldn't have been as compelled to build it.  

Thankfully, I'll never know the answer to that.  As I'm sitting here right now imagining myself talking to my old grade school and asking them for permission to take some photos from that window.  Looking down on that old dirt path, as I snap a bunch of photos of my Witch prop, with her back to me.  As leaves shower down around her on a very windy Autumn day.

Cheers to September!  
It's nice to have you back.






Thursday, October 13, 2022

The Halloween School Bus Massacre

It happened thirty years ago, on a late Halloween afternoon.  A school bus was on its usual route, but this wasn’t your typical school bus… and they weren’t your typical kids. There were eight of them, and they were… different… troubled… disturbed.  








Wednesday, May 18, 2022

Tambourines And Thuribles

I went to a Catholic grade school.  Going to mass was a pretty regular occurrence.  We actually had some teachers from the school who played instruments, so they would be in this little group up front playing two guitars while one rather mean teacher with dark rings under her eyes would play the tambourine.  Now I know nothing about this "instrument" and I'm sure it requires some skill, but I'm going to assume it's easy to pick up.  I'm thinking anyone who can modestly keep a beat will excel at the tambourine.  It just always felt like a silly instrument.  And seeing this mean teacher display her unknown talent to the school's eight grades of children, well, that was always strange (and kind of funny).  And in case you're doubting that she was truly mean, she once yelled at a really good friend of mine.  Well, she yelled at the kid next to him who was borrowing my friend's notes from the previous day, as that kid was out sick and asked for notes to catch up.  The mean teacher actually yelled at the kid borrowing the notes, and I will never forget what she said: "WHAT ARE YOU?! A MASOCHIST??!!!"  Now back then, I had NO clue what that meant.  But my friend was way smarter than the rest of us.  He knew.  And he went home and told his parents.  Back then parents trusted teachers if their kids got in trouble (for the most part).  But this situation was different.  His mom called the school.  The school spoke to the teacher.  And my friend was treated like royalty for the rest of the school year.  And rightfully so.  He was a good guy.  And very smart.  And he had a disheveled way about him back then that I think got confused with him being a poor student.  But his grades proved that theory wrong.  So the mean teacher, you see, was just mean.


Yelling teachers, though, were pretty common.  Like I mean they yelled at the top of their lungs (are they allowed to do that now?)  I remember the bad kids getting yelled at.  I remember getting shouted at a lot for not singing loudly (or at all) during mass.  I remember being a nervous kid.  

So one day during mass, the priest is lighting incense up on the altar and the incense hasn't even TOUCHED the charcoal disk in the thurible and absolutely no smoke of any kind has been produced, but those kids, you know the ones, start coughing in the back of the church.  Fakers.  

A buddy of mine standing next to me during the mass starts whispering about how the wine in the chalice is turning into real human blood.  He is going on and on about this and it actually started to make me a little sick.  I kept picturing the priest drinking real blood.  And I may have prayed to God to make one of those teachers yell at this kid to shut up.  But he kept going on and on (and you're not supposed to speak during that part).  

And then it happens:  I feel myself getting light-headed.  And I KNOW I'm going to drop and bang my head on the pew.  I start to sway.  My face feels icy cold.  My legs are rubber.  Suddenly, a nun swoops upon me and pulls me out of there (I bet that annoying kid was thinking she was coming for him and his big mouth).  She rushes me up the aisle and everyone is now convinced I'm in some serious trouble.  But she was rushing me to an outside door to get some air.  Had me sit on a step with my head down.   And it helped.  She saved me.  

After mass, some kids asked me what I had done to get in such major trouble.  I acted like I didn't want to talk about it.  I was gonna ride that wave.

Anyway, I saw the below photo and that memory came flooding into my brains.  I feel it perfectly represents every aspect of that day in church (especially that nun keeping an eye on me).