{"id":4818,"date":"2006-05-09T18:03:05","date_gmt":"2006-05-09T22:03:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=4818"},"modified":"2024-10-27T15:57:33","modified_gmt":"2024-10-27T19:57:33","slug":"grade-school-snapshots","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=4818","title":{"rendered":"Grade School Snapshots"},"content":{"rendered":"

I remember sitting outside the classroom with Betsy, and we had a little old turntable – extension cord going into the room – and we played The Beatles<\/i> – this one<\/a>. Over and over. The green apple in the center of the vinyl spinning round and round.<\/p>\n

I remember the brou-haha when Steve W. put his head through a window. He was running a race with another kid and he couldn’t stop himself and went plummeting through the kindergarden window head-first. Betsy and I, blissfully listening to the Beatles across the playground, were called out of our reverie by the tragedy. (He was fine, by the way, eventually – but it was a very bloody scary day at the grade school!)<\/p>\n

I remember we would traipse through the woods looking for Indian arrowheads. We always believed we found some. Those woods were crawling with arrowheads.<\/p>\n

I remember the smell of the kickball, the squeaky feel of it in my hands. The dust in the field.<\/p>\n

I remember the dome on the playground. The dome. Where little children could break their frickin’ BACKS during recess. And there we were, dangling all over it, like little chimps. The dome is no longer. We all laughed about it and how dangerous it was at our reunion.<\/p>\n

For some reason I remember so vividly that we had a ‘debate’ in 6th grade. We had teams – and we were assigned a position on a certain topic – and we had to research it and then debate our side. It was great practice because even if you actually disagreed with the side you were assigned to – you had to debate FOR that side. A good debater doesn’t only rely on personal conviction. Debating is a SKILL. Of course we were 11 years old – but the whole thing was very serious. The boys had to wear suits, the girls dressed up – there was a lectern – we had to each go up, make our speech, listen to the opposing side – and then come up and make our rebuttals. It was great because we had to work as teams. (Uhm – did I say we were 11?) The topic was: Does violence in cartoons have an effect on the kids who watch them? Funny – at this point, we were pretty much talkin’ about ROADRUNNER, mkay?? I was on the side that the Roadrunner’s antics DO have a negative effect on kids. (Uhm – us.) Now I already had strong opinions about this and felt that cartoons did NOT have a bad effect on kids. I watched Roadrunner every week and you didn’t see me dropping anvils on people willy-nilly. But I took my position and I stuck to it. My debate partner was Andrew W. This was at the HEIGHT of our love affair which culminated in a certain spitball. Ahem. My love for him was beyond anything I have ever felt for any other man. I swear to God. My heart just SOARED at the smallest thing. I remember I had to go up to make a rebuttal – one kid on the other side had said, “But we see the creatures in cartoon get right back up again after getting thrown off a cliff – it’s obvious that they’re okay and that it’s fake.” Oooh, I saw my in and I took it!! I got up and said, “So if the characters in cartoons DON’T get hurt when they fall off a cliff, then what will stop kids from saying ‘I won’t get hurt if I throw myself off a cliff.'” And I heard Andrew mutter, “Yes<\/i>!” behind me, as though I were Mike Eruzione making a goal or something. We won the debate. It was a glorious peak in my love life.<\/p>\n

I remember, more than anything else, that Betsy and I were so into Oliver!<\/i> (I mean, besides the Beatles) that every single day we would perch on top of the jungle gym at the recess and sing through the entire score<\/i>. You think I exaggerate? I do not. We even sang Boy for Sale<\/i>. We sang it ALL. And here’s the best part: crowds of small children would gather around the bottom of the jungle gym and listen. Betsy and I were totally the BOMB. Oh – and even better than that: the school play in 6th grade was Oliver<\/i>. Betsy and I had a freak-out about this that is difficult to describe or even re-live. We were FIERCE. We HAD to be in this show. I can’t remember if there were auditions – but I do remember the day when the cast was announced by our music teacher, Mrs. Shea (she was also my piano teacher). Mrs. Shea read out: “Nancy will be played by Betsy!” HUGE gasp from behind me – Betsy was sitting behind me – hand clamped over her mouth – HUGE eyes. Then: “The Artful Dodger will be played by Sheila!” HUGE gasp from me – and Betsy’s hands gripped onto my shoulders from behind – literally clawing at me with tense excitement. And finally: “Fagan will be played by J!” J was sitting next to Betsy – another great friend – and this bit of casting was TRULY the wild card. Nobody saw this one coming. Betsy and I – while we were thrilled to get those great parts – kinda knew we would be cast … but J. as Fagan … Nobody was more surprised than J. I remember turning around to gape at her in utter shock and wonder, and she had slid herself all the way down in her seat, until her torso was completely truncated. Her eyes were enormous, glimmering, terrified, thrilled.<\/p>\n

I remember a fish tank smashed and my hand got cut open. I stlil have the scar.<\/p>\n

Two things were paramount in my life as influences: Land of the Lost<\/i> and Little House on the Prairie<\/i>. Oh, and Witch Mountain<\/i> too. Tia? Fuggedaboutit. I wanted to BE her.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I remember sitting outside the classroom with Betsy, and we had a little old turntable – extension cord going into the room – and we played The Beatles – this one. Over and over. The green apple in the center … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[600,1860,1859,1570],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4818"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4818"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4818\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":194889,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4818\/revisions\/194889"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4818"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4818"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4818"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}