Growing up in a small town in Southern New Jersey

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Seventh Grade

Continuing the "school saga". 

Seriously, seventh grade was my worst year in school.  I was still at Bingham School, which had nothing to do with it being my worst year.  It was the teacher.

I had Mr. Latieri -- who spent weekends in some town in northern PA and came in on Monday mornings and regaled us with what he did over the previous weekend, whether it was a play by play of a football game (high school, when they were still on Saturday morning or afternoon) or a movie he saw, or if he slept what he dreamt.  BORING.

The room his class was in was on the northwest side of the building, uppermost floor, old part.  The room was fine and I had a seat by the window.  And about the only thing I did like about his class was that he had the desks in straight rows, like a normal classroom back in those days.   I really didn't like the circle classroom set-ups, or the sideways rows set-ups.  I was very happy with my seat in the last rows from the door and one of the back seats.  

I was absent a lot that year.  I was sick to my stomach a lot (not really, but it was easy to convince my parents I wasn't feeling well).  I spent a lot of time at the chiropractor (Doc Feldman in Philly) which I didn't mind at all, except for the bus ride, which really did give me a sick stomach for two days.  I don't remember why I went to the chiropractor a lot, but I did.

I still learned whatever we had to learn, though.  I got all A's.

As an aside:  One day the class was being rather rowdy and Mr. Latieri was getting frustrated.  A lot of pencil sharpening and paper getting was interrupting Mr. L's train of thought.  So when the lesson was over Russell Fisher raised his hand and asked if he could have a piece of paper.  Mr. L in his frustrated voice said, "Take five."  Russ took five pieces of paper.  Mr. L meant get lost for five minutes (which he explain after Russell sat back down).  I don't think any of us had heard that expression before (meaning take five minutes off).  Poor Russell, he was then made to go to the back of the room and stand against the wall for five minutes, and be the butt of Mr. L's jokes for the entire five minutes he was standing there.

I did have fun in the school yard that year.  I beat Joe Spence in hitting a baseball one day.  He was the best hitter in the 7th grade, so I felt pretty special.  And finally....

I give up.  I was trying to put a picture of the school in the BLOG, but BLOGger must be broken for now.



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