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Fred Thomas
It's easy for me to remember how I thought about things back in high school because it's not too different than I think now. Any facade of wisdom, maturity or sophistication would be easily dismissed by any of you, my fellow classmates.
That being said, I would have been surprized that any of our teachers would be involved in a love affair. Actually I would have been surprized to see any teacher at the bowling alley or grocery store. They were just teachers and it would have been hard to imagine that they had any life outside of that.
Mr Duke was a nice guy and will be missed. One of my cherished teachers was my Latin teacher, Miss Beck. I took four years of Latin because it was fun and most of the other Latin students were girls. I was the teacher's pet. Mr Burford, my esteemed English teacher was another gem. He liked my writing so much that he read it outloud in class several times. I felt more self conscious than prideful at the time.
My worst teacher was the Asswipe I had for history who made us take complete notes which he graded. I learned to hate history because of him but I enjoyed throwing those notes in a bon fire.
Mr Kelly, my gym/health teacher was the funniest. He was always losing his temper during gym and he would throw basketballs at us or crack our heads together and call us knuckleheads. Health class (sex education) was a scream. He was more embarassed than we were. Clearly I learned nothing about sex in that class.
Luckily I got a better sex education class in the back seat of our Ford Falcon by a younger schoolmate. I rember asking, "Where are the textbooks, drawings and pictures?" "This will be hands on", she said. "YES! YES! YES!", I shouted. Afterwords, "What grade do I get?", I asked. "C+ only because of your enthusiasm", she stated. "I need some more classes", I begged. "Indeed", she said. "You're my favorite teacher", I said. "I know", she whispered. (I wish Burford could read this.)
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