Another Rambling Story

After a confusing day today, I was trying to figure out what direction to head in next. I sat and I stared out of the window and as I did, I started to wonder about what the chain of events were which had led me to be in this exact spot, at this particular moment in time. Asking myself that question is far from an everyday event, but it’s not uncommon either.

As I stared out the window, I thought back to a time, years ago, when I asked myself a similar question. Sam was in kindergarten, and Mom and I were sitting in the school’s auditorium, waiting for the end of the school year’s awards program to begin. I remembered thinking back then, how, in my wildest dreams, I could never have predicted a point in my future where I would be sitting next to my mother in the auditorium of a small grammar school, in a small hill town, waiting to see my young, special needs son graduate from kindergarten.

Thinking back on that day, in turn, led me to think about my own elementary school and one of the few, more pleasant memories from so many years ago.

I thought about the time I was sitting in the school’s gymnasium/cafeteria/auditorium, along with most of the other kids in school. What seemed like a hundred metal folding chairs had been set up by the janitor, Mr. Larry. The chairs all faced the stage where a large movie screen had been pulled down. The drapes had been closed to darken the room and at the back of the room was a movie projector- upon which sat a massive roll of film, all ready to go.

Having a movie at school was always good news. There was a good chance that it was going to be one of those long, sometimes pretty good science movies from Bell Labs. But it really didn’t matter what the movie was about. What mattered was, it offered a respite from the tedium and torment of sitting in the classroom.

Judging from the size of the reel, the movie looked to be about forty minutes long, and that was a bare bones assessment which didn’t include any possible interruptions. Interruptions, though, were almost guaranteed. Based on previous events, there were several possible scenarios.

At a minimum, the teachers would invariably have to shut the movie off at least once, to yell at us for having any fun. This was usually good for wasting anywhere from five to twenty minutes, depending how angry the teachers were. Usually, it was closer to twenty minutes.

Along with the guaranteed getting yelled at, there was always the chance that the movie would jam in the projector, and the frozen, bubbling frame would be projected in front of us like some brief, psychedelic light show. Lights would turn back on, while a couple of teachers and a student who fancied himself an AV expert (i.e. the teacher’s pet), would hover around the projector, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

This happened many times in the past, and as they were trying to assess the situation, the noise level from the increasingly unruly audience could be expected to rise- until it got to a point where the only other remaining teacher- who had not been able to sneak off with the other teachers to chain smoke in Teacher’s Lounge, would begin screaming at us. This teacher’s anger was no doubt fueled, in part, by the fact that she, too, desperately needed a cigarette- but she was either new- or had picked the short straw- and was now even more pissed off than she normally was.

In my mind, I can still see the teacher with her pale, wrinkled skin, standing in front of the stage- her voice trembling in barely contained rage. Also, I remember her wearing a Gestapo uniform, but I'm not positive about that part.

Anyway, after we would all get yelled at, either a second attempt to run the movie might be made, which may or may not be successful, or if it was completely hopeless, we would all have to file back to our classrooms where this event would be the topic of classroom conversation for the rest of the day. (This usually resulted in me having to stay after school for enjoying the whole scenario too much.)

Another possibility would be that the once proud aforementioned AV kid might have forgotten to reset the “rewind” switch on the projector. This would mean that the take-up reel at the back of the projector wouldn’t move at all during the entire course of the movie- resulting in a massive pile of spaghetti-like film sitting on the auditorium floor. This would again lead to a couple of the teachers, along with the now humiliated AV kid, hovering around the projector, trying to figure out what to do next.

Based on past experiences, it wouldn’t prolong the movie-going experience much, but it would take the Teacher’s Pet down a notch and be good for a laugh, at least for the rest of the day- which again, usually resulted in me having to stay after school for enjoying the scenario way too much.

Those were all good possibilities, but on this particular day, something different happened.

On this day, we were all in our assigned, boy/girl/boy/girl seats, and after the obligatory dire threats and warnings from Frau Linkmeyer, a hush fell over the crowd and the movie started. There was the usual garbled, not-quite-synchronized sound problems as the film stuttered and the AV hero made his necessary top secret adjustments to the projector, and then the movie proceeded.

The movie was indeed one of those science films, if not from Bell Labs, then at least by someone who made movies of similar length. This one was was about the human heart- or maybe the entire circulatory system, but the heart is what I remember.

At some point in the movie, they were showing a close up of some poor guys heart, pumping away in his open chest cavity. And let me tell you, this looked nothing like those soft-edged, red hearts that other kids got on Valentine’s Day. No, the only thing red here were the veins on this pink, pulpy, pulsating hunk of yuck.

For once, an un-instigated hush fell over the crowd as this image filled the giant-sized screen in front of us. After what seemed like several minutes of this giant repulsive image beating away before us, the silence of the crowd was interrupted by a crash of metal folding chairs coming from the faintly lit back rows. I, and everyone else, turned around to see a pair of feet and legs sticking straight in the air. Apparently, one of the kids had passed out cold.

It was awesome. Nothing like that had ever happened before.

The film was immediately stopped and after a great deal of commotion, the absent teachers returned from their lounge after hastily snuffing out their cigarettes- and we were all hustled back to our classrooms. I think I had to stay after school for several days on that one- having had the nerve to be in the same room, and all.

None of the teachers would ever say who it was that passed out. I assume this was to save the kid some well deserved torment.

Today, as I sat looking out the window, I reflected back on these memories. And I came to the conclusion that, I’ll bet it was Jacky McDonald.