Thursday, May 31, 2007

Well They Say It's Kinda Fright'nin' How This Younger Generation Swings

After next Monday, my baby will officially be an eighth grader. It made me remember my last year in junior high and I was suddenly very, very afraid.

When I was in eighth grade, we had a big graduation and field trip, since most of us would all be going to different high schools in the Chicago area. Every year the eighth grade class went to Milwaukee to tour the breweries, because how else are you going to prepare a bunch of working class Irish Catholics from the South suburbs to deal with a life of factory work and too many children? Of course, you teach them the beauty of beer before they even get to high school. This is the story of how I fucked-up my graduation trip for me and some of my friends. It is only one, among hundreds of annoying things I did that year.

There was a time when you thought you were the funniest thirteen year old on the planet, (as usual, when I say you, I really mean me) and when you possess that kind of humor, you really have to make sure that everyone around you knows it. A good way to ensure that, is to wait until you are bored in your science class and fill your syringe with water. The minute your teacher has her back to the class, you squirt your syringe full of water at one of your friends. They might yelp or say, "What the...?", but they are thirteen and smart and they cover it up, by pretending to cough when the teacher turns around.

Some more of your friends, find this whole bit particularly amusing, and fill their own syringes with water. You are all careful not to get caught, until you stupidly aim your loaded syringe at Peter Amandio, who can sometimes be fun, but is usually a big, gigantic kiss-ass. He yelps loudly and doesn't even pretend to cover it up. In fact, he raises his traitor paw in the air and tells on you.

Your teacher, who is normally so busy opening bottles on her freakish hook nose, to even take the time to figure out what a sense of humor is, begins her lecture. You are counting the freckles on your forearm, while your teacher drones on and on about safety and responsibility and maturity and somewhere in there you wonder why you can't make fart noises under your armpit anymore, ever since you grew breasts and how unfair life can be for women sometimes. Then you actually pay attention when she doles out your punishment. You and your friends will be allowed to attend the field trip, you will just be forced to write the ISCS science rules about 4,984 times during said trip.

You and your friends stress out through all of Milwaukee's finest beer factories about whether your hand will fall off before it's all over. Instead of learning any kind of lesson from your punishment, you spend the rest of the school year plotting ways to get back at Peter Amandio.


David in DC said...

In 10th grade, my Social Studies class took a field trip to Attica.

Yes, that Attica.

What on earth were they thinking?

Mr Atrocity said...

It truly is "more than just some new sensation".

A girl in my class when aged, ooh I guess about 8, would consistently report me to the teacher for having an untidy desk, and I would duly get into trouble for it. Now I am all grown up I can keep my desks as I like them.

And they wonder why I hated school.

Remiman said...

Having received a paddle to the backside twice from the principal, I'm with ya!
I'd have pushed Pete into a beer Vat and .......
Have a great weekend. Hope you've recovered from your funk, ;-)

Babybull40 said...

8th grade we travelled to Ottawa and stayed at the local "Y" and went to the museums and the Parliment buildings and on the way home we got to check out the Hersey Factory.. which is now closing...

Stepping Over the Junk said...

our school trips were never so much fun...

Margaret said...

so, how'd you get back at him?

Rachel said...

We went into these creepy caves once on a field trip. It creeped me out when I saw the bats on the ceiling.
I really liked going to Mt. St. Helens a few years after the eruption. Even though it had been a good 5 or so years the devastation was still very apparent.
I am still pissed to this day that I can no longer armpit fart. I was really good at it.

booda baby said...

There came a point when no one even had to tell on me. It was just assumed I started it which, btw, was not always true and yet, was all a-Okay and swell and stuff by me. But of course, I can be cavalier about it - I never got Write This 5 Billion Times and Miss Out on Milwaukee as Punishment.

Pete Amandios. No matter if your sweetie has to re-write the Patriot Act 5 times, she's an angel if she makes it through 8th grade without ever thinking about becoming a Pete Amandio.

evil-e said...

....and the cradle will rock. VH

We did the 7th grade trip to Columbus OH and the 8th grade trip to DC. The brewery sounds like an interesting choice.

I was always one of the reclusive jokers. I would commit the joke and sit back and not take credit for it.

Heather Anne said...

Man, the only place we went in 8th grade was the zoo. Totally lame compared to your trip.

Matt said...

I like your shoes in your pic. Are they Bart Starr tennys or Converse? I always got black Bart Starr tennys.

I was always nice to the girls in my classes. I don't know why but it had it's advantages in High School. Too bad you had to suffer through that and remember it with such clarity.

Have a great weekend Tara!

Tara said...

Damned Peter. I wonder if he's blogging about his side of the story right now? Ah, his side is wrong anyway.

Churlita said...


Maybe they were trying to give you a Scared Straight kind of experience.

Mr Atrocity,

I'm glad no one cared how untidy my desk was at school. I would have been in trouble all day every day.


If only we had thought of that.


That sounds so cool.


I can't even imagine any school taking kids to a brewery now.


I have no idea. I'm sure there was shunning and bitchiness involved.


I'm with you. The armpit fart was the best.

Booda Baby,

I'm sure my teacher wasn't at all surprised that I was involved.


You sound like you were so much smarter about it than me.

Heather Anne,

I think we went to the zoo in Milwaukee after the breweries...What a let down.


I think they were cheapo knock-offs from Venture. (the Chicago equivalent of a Pamida)


I would love to read about his side of it.

Anonymous said...

So,thats how you talk about a guy that actually punched on Smolik in the hallway. Pete should be your HERO!

Churlita said...


I always liked you in junior high...Especially when you were Disco Pete. I was just mad at you for ratting me out. I'm sure everyone in our class has a hundred bad stories about my behavior. I had no idea you punched Smolik. You really are my hero now.