Have you been in front of a group, ready to speak and everything,
including your speech totally escapes the mind? In addition, you see a face
screwed into contortions and realize the tormentor is a fellow classmate!
He should’ve displayed
concern. Compassion. Caring.
Instead, his face showed
after effects of a sour lemon.
Have you uttered a curse word
in front of said crowd because Lemon Face was the last straw?
The redeeming factor was the
total shock on everyone’s face. The downside I made the only “F” I’d made in 12
years. The teacher never looked up, but said “Next” to a quiet classroom which
rivaled an E.F. Hutton commercial.
I recognized this as another
defining moment of growing pains. Pain isn’t necessarily physical. No, that
particular moment was one in which I simply didn’t care.
The key to not caring is the
same as caring or following the rules. One must live with the consequences--an
“F” on an otherwise commendable English average.
Lemon Face (LF) isn’t a fair
moniker. It should be HF (Happy Face). HF always and to this day has a big
(sometimes silly) grin. Most everyone adored HF. Especially the girls. Some
even older and wiser (so he said).
I never won an honor in high
school that he didn’t. We were awarded
by class vote, as junior class favorites. We had our picture taken in formal
wear. We were skinny and had more hair back then. Especially Happy Face, just
sayin’…..
He probably received more,
but the only other for me, by overall vote of the whole high school, was
Wittiest. Again, we had our picture made our senior year–still skinny and with
more hair at a poker table with yours truly holding all the chips. The only
time he’s had a sad look. He knew I could take all his money.
We must’ve been funny if the
whole school thought so. Or we were comedic pests. Hard to remember now, all
these pounds later.
We never dated (he liked
older women, remember?) and besides that would’ve been like kissing my
brother–yech–but we were and still are good friends.
Over the years we’ve crossed
paths at many opportunities. Spouses have met and lamented their sad but true
lives with clowns. That’s why we’ve been married a total of over 80 years.
They’ve had a bad life, haven’t they? By the way, she’s a young chick.
HF, remember, payback’s
you-know-what.
Give me time. I’m still
thinking.
