Elementary School

Marc made a lot of people laugh by imitating others.  When I was in first grade, Marc was in second and Kelly would have been in sixth or seventh grade.  She would have been going through the changes from child to teenager, so she may have been slightly awkward with her new feminine equipment.  Marc imitated her walk constantly during second grade.  He would stick out his butt, lift up his arms, lazy wrists, and shuffle along pigeon toed, to the delight of all that saw it.  At least that's how I remember it.

In fourth grade, he had a teacher, Mrs. Meyers, who adored him.  He was all she wanted in a student, and she used to grab his cheeks in the hallways and stop just short of kissing him.  I suppose she would never get away with that kind of behavior these days, but in those days we didn't think much of it except it was gross.  But I secretly wanted to have the same attention he did from Mrs. Meyers.  When I was in her class, she told me I was cut from a different cloth than Marcus or Kelly. 

On the first day of fourth grade, I told her I should not be expected to live up to their academic achievements since I was only eight years old, half a year younger than my older siblings when they started the fourth grade.  Mrs. Meyers told me I wouldn't have received a "pass" from the third grade teacher if I wasn't ready for fourth grade, so I could just put that silly thought out of my head.  I spent most of my spare time in Mrs. Meyer's class drawing pictures of Kiss, and selling them to my friends for fifty cents apiece.  She told me I was a great artist doing the work of a garbage man.  Dad told me that garbage men made good money, had insurance and a pension.