May 10 2005

Tales Of A High Scool Rebel

So, with the tales of the high school student who got in trouble for his cell phone call (post #1 and post #2) I mentioned that I had some bad history of my own with public schools, specifically Kirksville Senior High. For chuckles, here is the first one. (it is longish)

In my Senior year I was in the marching band and played the tuba. Yes boys and girls, the giant white beast was my burden to bear. On the day of our homecoming game I had band practice in the morning, homecoming parade in the afternoon and the game that night. The next morning was a parade for the local medical school (Kirksville College of Osteopathic Medicine), so I was spending a lot of time with my instrument.

Now, here is the thing about the tuba, when marching I used the traditional large white kind that?s made of fiberglass. While fiberglass is a lot lighter than the old brass ones, that is still a lot of instrument to carry around for an extended period of time. By the end of half-time at the game, I was ready to call it a night, and needed to take my tuba home for use the next morning.

Here is where the saga started, as I walked with some friends behind the high school, I turned to one of them and said “Ain’t the tuba f***** great?” Meaning that I was tired of carrying the blasted thing.

From my right I heard a voice of an older woman saying something to me.

I said “Excuse me, what did you say?”

Her reply was “I told you to watch your language young man!”

I turned back to my friend and asked “Who the hell is that b****?”, and walked on to my car.

Flash forward to the next morning and my band teacher walks up to me angry as all get out. Now mind you, he and I had a very friendly relationship, so he had never been mad at me before. “Mr. Aune! You need to see Mr. Smith 1st hour Monday morning about your language last night!” (Mr. Smith being our vice-principal)

I began laughing, which my teacher did not find amusing “I don’t find this very funny Mr. Aune!”

“Oh, I do!” was my flippant reply.

So come Monday morning I go to see Mr. Smith. He asks for me to tell my side of the story, which I did. He told me that he would like to know my exact words, so I tell him with out the colorful words edited out.

He grins at me and informs me that the woman was the wife of the football team coach, and that she had reported a much more vibrant version of the story where I had cursed about my teacher, the entire band and several other people.

I laughed out loud at this. She was just being pissy because I had questioned who she was is my belief.

Mr. Smith wasn’t sure what to do and decided to let me off with a warning. If I was caught cursing again on school grounds, I would be tossed out of band.

I continued to laugh and walked out.

I went back to the band room. 2nd hour I was the teaching assistant for Mr. Schwarz, the band teacher, so I waited until it was just him and explained what had really happened. He told me the version he had heard was the one where I included him in my verbal attack. He believed me once I explained it and he also laughed it off.

So a couple days later I was walking out of the band room and said some sentence including the word “hell” (which I do not consider cussing, sorry folks). I was greeted by a hand on my shoulder and the wagging finger of Mr. Smith in my face. I laughed at him and told him to get over himself and walked on.

So the moral of the story?  freedom of speech boys and girls.  I am a curser, I have been for as long as I can remember. I am sorry, but when I enter a school, as a student, I do not feel I all of a sudden surrender my civil rights. I cursed, who cares? My shoulder hurt, I was in a bad mood, and I had to be up early to do it again, so I cursed, such is life get over it.

This was the first of a couple run in’s with Mr. Smith, someday I will tell the rest.

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