Wednesday, July 04, 2007
'Head Workshop (Hippie New Year - 4/20 @ 4:20)' A mix tape by Chip Kinney
You know… I was thinking about all the subjects that I could write about for an entry today… I had a few of them in mind. And I can’t remember any now.
There seemed to be a couple of thoughts about my life in high school… But I’m drawing a blank now. I knew I should have written down those ideas. Hell… I carry a notepad everywhere I go. You’d think by now that I would take advantage of such tools.
I is ignorant. Here’s something I just thought of…
I was always told by my parents and teachers that I could do so much better in school. I was never a fan of structured learning and that’s one of the reasons I never went to college. I had enough of that stuff within my 12 years of forced education. I just didn’t care and English was one of the subjects that totally bored the hell out of me.
I always enjoyed writing, but I never cared about learning about prepositions, predicates, and all that stuff. To this day, I don’t even know what prepositions and predicates are. If you were to place a loaded gun to my head, I wouldn’t be able to come up with a short list of adverbs.
When the teacher assigned short story writing to us… That always thrilled me!
Serial killers were just catching my attention back in those days… Ted Bundy, Manson, and Jim Jones (technically a mass murderer) had me searching out books and television programs about them. I was always glued to my TV with the child disappearances and slayings in Atlanta. And when that Son of Sam sh*t was taking place… I was watching newscasts and reading newspapers all day long.
I was also reading everything Stephen King put out back then.
So I used those subjects for my little short story. And little did I know how much trouble that would cause for me.
My teacher became VERY uneasy after reading my short story. She spoke with me about it, expressed her concerns, and asked me some personal questions.
All I said was… “How was the writing?”
She didn’t have an answer for me and proceeded to take me to the Guidance Counselors. I chatted with them and explained my interest in the sick and ghoulish things in our world… So they contacted my parents.
I had to talk with the counselors again and I was given an IQ test.
They came to the conclusion that I was bored with schoolwork and apparently I possessed a higher than average IQ. And believe me… That surprised my parents and sisters a bit.
They tried to steer me to more challenging classes and I was still unresponsive. I liked going to school, but for only social reasons… I only missed 3 days during my 7th through 12th grade years. I was more or less in school to work on my comedic timing in class, irritating teachers, and depriving those around me of their education.
The only class I took seriously was Art. At the time, I enjoyed drawing and painting. The rest of the day was filler.
But there were grading periods when I was on the honor role… I was bribed and threatened by my parents to achieve those grades.
Just recently, I was made fun of because I didn’t know what a Grade Point Average was. I had heard the term and I remember people shaking their finger at me about mine… But I didn’t retain it and I don’t remember what it was. I’m guessing that it was pretty low.
So when someone tells me that their son or daughter has a 3.7 GPA… I have no idea what that means. I just go along with… “That’s great! Totally awesome!”… as the little hamsters that run my brain get off their exercise wheel for a smoke break.
Other than Art class, typing was the only other class that I liked. I wanted to learn how to type because it would make writing a lot easier and computers were set to take over the world. Typing was something I needed and wanted. Once I learned how to actually type… I didn’t care about anything else in that class.
My form letters sucked and I couldn’t space out headers to save my life or my grades. Luckily there were two girls nearby who helped me to cheat during those types of exams.
I managed to graduate from high school by the skin of my teeth. My Accounting teacher actually liked my wisecracking and took pity on me. She thought I was funny, smart, and capable of better grades. She expressed her concern about my lack of caring. Accounting was the one class that I needed to pass in order to graduate. The others were in “okay” order. She gave me the lowest passing grade of 70 in order to get my diploma. Believe me… I appreciated those 2 added points that saved me from summer school.
Well… It’s time for the hamsters to take another smoke break. Thank you as always for reading. I’m out. Here's the song list from today's musical selection.