Friday, March 13, 2009

Pre-Pubescent Machismo

“Duh!” “As if!” “Loser!” Their tongues hanging out of their mouths, freckle sprinkled cheeks, jagged bangs, eyes poised to express control, a mad crush on Suzie Jay, and an ounce of testosterone between the four of them, they ran the show. They had it all. Rulers of the universe and buds for a lifetime.

They hit the playground, yanking the pink velvet ribbon from Betsy’s hair. Her long red braid unraveled by the time they invaded the dodge ball game across the yard. Betsy flopped onto the black top, screaming for her daddy, the Principal. He dashed out to console her and was never able to pin down those nasty culprits.

Life could not get sweeter!

Those were the days to diss the teacher, aim a paper airplane at her butt when she turned to write on the chalkboard, switch names for the substitutes, compete in belching contests during the Pledge of Allegiance, give the class nerd a Melvin or Nelson or whatever those buggars called it when they pulled the poor soul’s underwear so tight above his head that it cut off all blood circulation and he could barely breathe.

Those were the days.

It was time to “get real.” When you stepped on a crack, you broke your mama’s back. Worse or perhaps better yet, when you stepped on a line, you were Frankenstein. Your best buddy told you to “Look over there.” When you turned your head, he stated smugly, “Monkeys always look!”

Good times. Good times.

When you cut the cheese, you cleared the room. You’d make crank calls to the grocery store manager to ask, “Do you have pigs' feet?...Then how can you walk?” Mom said, “Don’t stick your tongue out like that, it’ll stay that way. You’ll go blind if you cross your eyes that way.” So you kept trying that one, because you thought it’d be super cool to have a Seeing Eye dog.

Those were the days.

Boys would be boys, will be boys. They rule. They’re cool. Too cool for school. Question that, you’re a fool.

Those were the days.

Machismo was in full fruition. As if!

No comments:

Post a Comment