Memorable moments
from a life spent studying the
world’s absurdity.

Who peed in your pants
Grandma asked when I was five.
Roy Rogers, I said.

A young smart-aleck,
the penchant for drollery
a gift from my dad.

Trying to play sax
at age12, eyes on the prof’s
red-haired teen daughter.

Park Junior lessons:
cherry bombs blasting commodes,
zip guns made in shop.

Seventh-grade classmate
taken by cops one day, an
unwilling dropout.

Housing a green snake
inside my locker — till he
left home, trailing screams.

School protection con
was a huge success — then Slack
cold-cocked the top boss.

In school parking lot
eighth grader’s Merc got rubber
– and our attention.

Turn of tap puts end
to a shower-room card game;
losers doubly soaked.

Six of us carried
Russell’s Crosley, setting it
outside the gym door.

Loud math-class squawking –
a live chicken wants out of
Miss Million’s desk.

A seven-week stint
washing dishes at Boy Scout camp,
honing cursing skills.

Foes became fast friends
after fight that started with taunt
of “sling fist, monkey”.

Teacher is snoring
in civics class so we learn
about anarchy.

Cool on Friday night:
back row at the Palace, eye
out for some action.

Cheerleaders, twirlers:
female form given wide-eyed,
attentive study.

Twisting at the hop –
moves so easy we each feel
we’re too cool for school.

Back-row BB drops;
study-hall teacher chasing
multitude of pings.

Before school day starts
piano boogie-woogie
shakes us and wakes us.

Driver’s ed images:
honking horns, dirty looks and
steering-wheel death grip.

Senior chapel blues:
student rockers’ gig ends when
teacher unplugs amp.