![]() for some of us, we had to fight our way out of a hole To see some sort of daylightA Poem by Philip GaberI recall 1977. I wore Buster Brown shoes and was expelled for throwing snowballs at a school bus. I was called into the principal’s office so many times that year it appeared my a*s had made a permanent imprint on The Chair. We called it The Chair for apparent reasons. We insubordinates liked to fancy ourselves as inmates on death row. One day, I got busted for smoking. Mrs. Hooper caught me. It doesn’t matter how I got caught. Or what happened once I was called into the principal’s office. The fact is, I did my penance and graduated from sixth grade with most of my balls still intact. The following year, I was in junior high. Sure, I was a loner. But I was a loner with people skills. I wasn’t what you’d call “goal-orientated” or a “go-getter,” but I knew how to “work a room” and how to experience those “extremes of emotions.” I was thirteen. Smoked a half-pack of Camel Lights a day and drank six cups of coffee-milk before lunch. I was a true one-sixteenth of a badass. My parents didn’t know whether to send me to private or military schools the following year. So they compromised and sent me to a Catholic school. © 2024 Philip Gaber |
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1 Review Added on July 26, 2024 Last Updated on July 26, 2024 Author![]() Philip GaberCharlotte, NCAboutI hate writing biographies. I was one of those kids who rode a banana seat bike and watched Saturday morning cartoons and Soul Train. But my mother would never buy any of those sugary cereals for us k.. more..Writing
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