(no subject)

[wickedflea]

Good lord. I just remembered this weird thing we did in sixth-grade English class where we had to adapt myths and make little skits out of them. Our group decided to rewrite the King Midas story so that everything the king touched turned to garbage. The play was named "The Magical Garbageman" after the character who gave the king the power of trash. So of course, I played The Magical Garbageman, complete with nasty trenchcoat and high-tops. (I'm not sure where we got that conception of a garbageman, but anyway.) Darrell Sumner played the king. My star turn was when I was to perform the spell on the king. We thought it would be a great special effect if, when I said "abracadabra" or whatever, I threw some flour up in the air so it'd look like a big POOF. The problem was that I had to stand around with the goddamn flour in my hand for ten minutes before it was time to cast the spell--so by the time I did the deed, I had squeezed the flour into a big, hard lump. I knew it wasn't going to go POOF when I threw it up in the air, so I had to do the best I could--I CLOCKED Darrell right in the fucking EYE with it. Needless to say, the whole play degenerated into a fit of coughing laughter. I don't think we got much of a good grade for "The Magical Garbageman." :(

Comments

[shlorp.livejournal.com]

Ahahahaha, yay!

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

Doesn't this sound like a weird dream?!? I swear it's true, though.

We totally should have gone to school together. You'd have fit in perfectly with this kind of shit. :D

[shlorp.livejournal.com]

I agree. You'd have totally fit in with our weird "gifted" group -- we put on plays about Roman gods, Pompeii, and one that incorporated Alice In Wonderland with Prince's song "Cream".

[buscemi.livejournal.com]

Haha! You have the most entertaining experiences.

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

That class was particularly entertaining. It was such an eclectic collection of wiseasses that it couldn't miss. :D

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

Most of our projects in our gifted class never got off the ground. Mostly we spent our time playing with the Capsela, spray-painting our teacher's nickname "Stymie" on the sidewalk outside the building, putting shards of afro in Stymie's coffee creamer, hiding eggs behind bookshelves so they'd reek in a few days, etc. And I think we've shared Odyssey of the Mind experiences. I really missed that class when I got to high school. :(

[shlorp.livejournal.com]

We dressed up like Vikings and built a boat and pillaged a classroom of normal kids.

Yes, O.M. I still miss it.

[lastcallforcorn.livejournal.com]

oh no! you assaulted the king with dough!

i'll never forget the day our teacher in the gifted program said to us, exasperated, "it's a beautiful day. can't we talk about something besides genitals?" frankly, i hadn't even noticed that we were.

smart kids rool.

[jah9000.livejournal.com]

I think our worst overall production was The MAJAC Circus.

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

Oh man, that WAS the worst. Was it you and I who were the two-man dog? (Egads, that sounds obscene.) Seems like Mike Boyd was involved, too. I'm pretty sure Anton was the ringleader, and I remember Wes wasn't in our group, but he sat in the stands and laughed as the judges tried to figure out whether we were a cow or a dog.

Wait, WERE we a cow? And are we sure we weren't in special ed?

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

The poor teachers! I'll always remember Stymie, our teacher for the ninth-grade gifted class. She started the year all gung-ho and sparkly, and by the end of the year she'd gone gray and suicidal.

[jah9000.livejournal.com]

It was Mike, Anton, Jason, some other A name and Chris. I recall choosing that Big Top project mostly out of laziness. In retrospect, I think I might have liked designing a car better.

What ever happened to Anton, anyway?

[jah9000.livejournal.com]

I will always remember the 48-color (including metallic gold) spray-painted graffiti of the name STYMIE created by Phule on the sidewalk near the classroom. It had the look of artistic vomit not unlike cutting edge British painting that would come along 15 years later. Phule was an innovator.

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

HAHA! I'd completely forgotten the acronym. And yeah, we absolutely did that out of laziness, so of course it ended up being an impossible project. I think I even remember ol' Tempe trying to tell us that it was going to be harder than we thought.

A dog costume made out of a brown bedsheet and some yarn. Cripes.

I never did hear anything about Anton after he moved. Seems like he went to Texas, probably not too long after the circus. I do remember that his dad lived in Texas somewhere.

I wonder if this is him. The photo looks like it COULD be him, but I'm just not sure.

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

That was amazing. How did he not get in trouble for that?!? I guess Stymie had just given up by then, but still--you'd think Shit McGee or Crickneck Hughes would have had something to say about it.

With all the craziness that went on in that school, one would have thought all the kids were on PCP or something. I remember Johnny Burgin blowing up pistol blanks with a brick during the school day, and again, I don't think he even got in trouble.

Oh. Speaking of that:

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

whoops