2nd grade, 1964. Here I am glaring at the School photographer. I have no idea why. It could be any number of reasons.
One reason could be that my mom sent me to school in a shirt that looks like a pajama top. Or, maybe the school bully took my lunch money. I look like the victim type.
Maybe it was that one day that we had a vocabulary test. We had to use the list of words in a sentence. One of the words was altitude. My sentence was: The boy’s name was Altitude. That was my go-to sentence. I thought I was slick. If I didn’t know the definition of a word, I would just make it someone’s name.
The girl’s name was Determine.
I went to lunch with my Aunt Community.
My dad works with a guy named Infiltrate.
The teacher never fell for it. Maybe that’s why I’m pissed.
Or, maybe it was the day after I got in trouble at home for:
Swinging a yo-yo around my head like a helicopter blade and breaking a window.
Hitting my sister in the head with her Chatty Cathy doll.
Sticking my tongue out at my mom, but not putting it back in my mouth before she turned around.
Maybe it was those military issue glasses. They DID take up half my face.
At any rate, this is the yearly school picture that was sent out to family and friends. People would open the letter from my mom and this picture would fall out. They would take a look at it and think, ” Poor Sam and Dee. Having to deal with such an unhappy and obviously troubled child”.
Every day can’t be happy rainbow day. We all know that. I just happened to be having one of those bad days that was caught on film by the school photographer. Even now, if people come across that picture in old photo albums, or whatever, they still ask, “What was wrong with you?”
Gee, I don’t know. Maybe my teacher didn’t think that some kid could be named “Altitude”.