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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: Ilaine who wrote (26232)5/28/1999 2:51:00 PM
From: Gauguin  Respond to of 71178
 
I did a bad thing in the third grade. And I had a crush on the fourth grade teacher. (Those two were unrelated.) I got to be in the fourth grade teacher's room the next year ~ Oh Happy Days.

But those were just things that popped into my mind, like headlines, not the ambience, which was what was so neatly warming my cawkles. Caulkles. It was quite ambient. En plein air ambient, too. I wish I could remember more.

Formative years.
Or Deformative years.

Mr Cooper was a fourth grade teacher, and we really liked him, because he would come out on the playground, and we played four square, tether ball (watch out for the ball, up the side of ~ OW!!! You better go to the office) ~ and kickball. Which I've noticed they don't play everywhere ~ it's just like baseball.

Mr Cooper could kick the ball, Straight up, like a moon launch, and we would beg him every time he was on the playground until he performed the feat. He had a light blue sweater. We would just hang on him until he consented. It was the most genuine excitement. The whole playground would stop and crane their eyes to the clouds til it came down. He was cool. Even the bounce was about as high as some kids could kick it.

It make a real rubber-ball ow racket when it came off his foot. A compressed-air-inside-tweaked-rubber-bladder noise, that would be hard to duplicate, except under those circumstances and with Mr Cooper. I really liked that noise. And the one it make when it came down. Whap, only harder. Oh and it bounced up high, really high, but slowly, like it hurt.

It was a good thing he had control, you know, to kick it straight up, because even though our playground was about ten acres, it would have zoomed clear over the fence to Petaluma and kids would have been killed running into the street after it.

I ~ I promised myself I wouldn't do this.