Trying to remember the first time I went to summer school ? hmm? it was probably when I was 11. Cough, hack, just clearing out the mental cobwebs, but I think it was Holmes School in the summer of 1966. Orchestra. I don’t remember what we played, but they kept the windows open and it was still hot. Some film crew did a shoot there for a movie about “Children in Motion.” Yeah, we were.
In 1967, it was back to my school, Emerson. I took a couple of classes, but the one I remember was a dramatics class. Zooming in further, I realize that the only thing I actually do remember about that was a boy named Phil River ?#34; THE definition of cute. He could play guitar and sang the folk song, “500 Miles.” Still remember the words.
Let’s see, 1968 is a blur. Maybe I didn’t go to summer school. That’s when we went to Hemis-fair in Texas and then to Mexico. The summer of trying to ride a donkey in a paper dress. Such an odd child ?
Oh, but 1969 is very clear. After graduating from Emerson, it was on to my first high school class ?#34; art. Had a beautiful teacher with long brown hair that she wore up. Who remembers her name? I should look her up in the Tabulas, but I don’t know where they are right now. Certainly not here with me at work (hey, I’m on lunch hour ?). That teacher made me believe I had some talent, which took talent in itself.
It was also a great idea to take a class the summer before starting high school, because then you knew your way around when fall came. I never had those nightmares about wandering around naked trying to find your class. I have them now. No one knows why.
And summer school really never killed a summer. The family took camping trips. I went to the pool in the afternoons. We listened to WLS and WCFL ?#34; “The Ron Brittonyyyy Radio Show!!”
Plus, it prepared you for the real world when you sit in an office in August instead of rolling down a sand dune at Warren Dunes.
Uh-oh. Lunch is over.
Wish I had a sand dune right now. And one of those frosty malt things from Rehm pool!