Some Back to School Thoughts

This will be a little different than the usual historical look-back or "book report" style post I usually write.  It contains personal thoughts and memories similar to my rambling articles about family holidays from when this site first launched.  You can check those out in the Collections Section, if you're so inclined.  

Forgive me if it's not entirely coherent, since this is more of a stream of consciousness than a formal article.  I felt it was time to free up some brain space by permanently documenting these memories here, so I can make room for new ones.  

If this sort of thing is of no interest, Halloween articles are right around the corner, so hang tight and come back next week.  

With New England kids heading back to school last week, my little girl is now spending her weekdays there full-time, instead of the two half-days a week she had in preschool or pre-k.  It's safe to say that it's been an adjustment this year.  I cry as often as Ric Flair does, which isn't exactly a helpful personality trait in situations like this. 

Like any Fall, though, I've been reflecting on the "back to school" days of my own, perhaps this year more than most.

I always loved going shopping for school supplies.  I think most kids do.  You're getting cool new stuff, after all, and when I was younger, I thought of it as a reflection of my personality to the kids in my new class.  Mom would let me choose what superhero or design I wanted for my Trapper Keeper, folders, lunchbox, or backpack.  It always made me feel special when I'd get the one I really wanted.

The Trapper Keeper was the must-have of the '80s and early '90s.  The sound of Velcro ripping apart filled the classroom as kids pulled out their bright, neon-colored Trapper Keepers.  Each one had enough pockets to stash my wrestling cards or comic books for when the teacher wasn't looking.  Had they not been only for girls and strictly verboten for boys back then, I would have loved some of the brightly colored Lisa Frank designs.  

Even if it was pink, I've just always liked bright colors.  

A fresh box of pencils was always exciting, too.  I preferred the Ticonderoga brand personally, even though most of you probably never knew that pencils had brand names.  They're just pencils, after all.  But Ticonderoga's were soft and smooth, even after sharpening, and the eraser on top was soft and rubbery, and more importantly, didn't leave pink smudges on my paper.  

We used to write so much with a pencil back then that the middle finger on my right hand developed a callus throughout high school.  I explained this to my daughter once, who, as part of this new digital world, looked at me as if I were crazy.

Nothing could beat a new box of Crayons.  The smell, the colors, the fresh, perfect point on each of them.  I always liked new markers, too, and preferred the smells of Mr. Sketch, like any other child of the '90s.  I also loved using rubber cement or paste, but I've been told that schools no longer use those.

It's probably a good thing that kids today don't have paste to eat and fun-smelling markers to huff.  They probably got us high or, at the very least, killed off a few brain cells.  

I was always the kid who did things for a little too long and a little too late, like Trick-or-Treating in earnest, until some of the neighbors asked if I thought I was too old to be going (I was in 9th or 10th grade).  

I wore sweatpants or other comfortable jogger-type pants every day until the 5th grade, when someone teased me for not having denim jeans.  I went home and told my Mom I wanted to wear jeans from then on, but she told me I didn't have any because "you hate jeans."  

That may have been true, but someone pointed out that I was wearing sweatpants, especially one with a giant hole in the crotch, and I wanted to fit in.  I didn't even want to fit in; I just wanted to fly under the radar.  Mom eventually bought me a pair or two, and the teasing stopped.  

The same applies to ankle socks.  

There is a whole thing on the internet now about how you can tell someone's age by the type of socks they wear.  

Growing up, you'd never be caught wearing long gym socks with shorts, but today, that's what the kids wear.  People my age, including myself, are still scarred by the stigma of long socks and still only wear ankle socks with shorts.  I've tried wearing longer socks with shorts lately, but it just feels wrong, and I either look like my grandfather or the Steve Buscemi meme saying hello to his "fellow kids."  

Before convincing Mom that I needed her to buy all new socks, I would fold my knee-highs down under the arch of my foot and wear them uncomfortably bunched up all day so that no part of the sock showed above my sneakers. I must have done this for a good year or two before I finally got rid of my long socks.

I suppose my obliviousness to trendy fashion meant that I was content in my own little world at home, where I had fun and freedom.  I wasn't keeping up with fashion trends or being forced to dress or act in a certain way, so when it came to school, I was naive about how much stock people put into clothes or other things like that.  My family certainly didn't.

One year, for my back-to-school haircut, I got the bright idea to shave lines (like Vanilla Ice) into the side of my head.  Unfortunately, that trend (and Vanilla Ice) had gone out of style several years prior, and I hadn't realized that by 1994.

I should have known when the barber and my mother asked two or three times if I was sure that was what I really wanted.  They even suggested I wouldn't like them, but I showed up on that first day at school and quickly found out for myself how much I didn't like having them there.

Speaking of not understanding the trends, to go along with the shaved design in my head, I also begged Mom to get a Batman backpack.  And not just any Batman backpack, this one was bright red with a 3-dimensional Batman face protruding off the back.  I thought it was really cool and was very proud of it, especially since I got the matching lunchbox/thermos combo to go with it.  

Unfortunately, I hadn't noticed that over the last year or so, everyone had transitioned to the plain black, navy blue, or maroon Jansport backpack.  And, if you had the kind with the leather bottom, it made you even cooler.

You can probably guess what happened on the first day of school.  I immediately wanted a new bag, but Mom told me the backpack was expensive and that I had to use it for the rest of the year. 

But if my memory is correct, that bookbag "was ruined" when the school bus "ran it over" a few weeks later, and Mom had to buy a new one.

Back to school doesn't bring all "bad" memories, though.

When we'd spend half of August up in Maine on vacation, it was always hard to come home.  I knew school would be starting again in just a few days, and that my summer was drawing to a close.  

However, coming home always meant an exciting pile of several weeks' worth of mail to sort through.  While everyone else unloaded the car, I was not very helpful because I was too busy pawing through the mail, hoping to find the letter from our school that would have my teacher's name on it and the supplies list.  

When I was in middle and high school, it also reflected all 8 periods of the day, and I immediately began imagining what my day would look like.

I had no idea who would be in my class either.  

In the days before the Internet and "AIM" (AOL Instant Messenger), it would always be a crapshoot.  I'd only get to ask the kid next door what teacher he got.  Other than that, it was just a wait-and-see kind of thing.  

The kid next door and I were the same age, and we often played together when we were younger.  We were friendly up until the 6th or 7th grade, when he quit playing hockey.  Our circles drifted apart, and that was it.  Now that I think about it, I honestly don't even remember him being in our high school.  He was there, but I don't remember ever seeing him.... and he lived next door!  There were about 400 kids in my graduating class, so with all of the kids from other grades, it was easy to get lost.

When AIM was released, it quickly became popular.  It was like texting for us 90s kids, and the instant, constant contact was something entirely new.  You had to come up with creative "away messages" that were always slightly cryptic, making people think you were up to something, dating someone new, or just more interesting than you really were.

Before AIM, I think it was pretty standard for kids not to see or speak with their friends for most of the summer, unless you lived close enough to walk or bike ride over.  Of course, once we had cars, that was a different story, but I'd like to think I'm not alone in not having phone calls or playdates with my school friends over the summer.  Maybe I was just a loner.  Summer was more for family time.  Besides, with our parents working, it's not like we would be getting rides anywhere to hang out anyway.

Fall was always exciting once school began.  When I was little, a new school year was proof that I was getting older and more independent.  When I was a bit older, that meant I was that much closer to driving or graduating from high school.

In the Fall, the weather changes back to more favorable temperatures, and that meant it was time to start thinking about hockey again.  I typically played year-round, and as a goalie, I was in high demand for various teams.  All year long, I would get phone calls asking me to play for this team or that.  It was tough to do during the school year, as the focus was all on the Varsity team, but when that season was over, I'd typically play on 3 to 4 different teams during the spring and summer.

In the exact opposite of what everyone else in the world does, rather than get in shape to look good for the summer, I was usually busy letting myself go.  It wasn't uncommon for me to gain weight over the summer from lack of activity (in comparison to the Fall and Winter) and constant access to food in the house (compared to no snacking during school hours).  

When school started, I had to get back into playing shape, and thankfully, during my teenage years, that was extremely easy to do and didn't take long at all.  Today, losing 5 pounds is a monumental task.... and I have more than 5 pounds to lose!  :)

Practice for the school's team began around Columbus Day weekend, which, for a "winter sport," seemed early to me.  School had only been in session for a few weeks at that point, and I had just developed a new routine, but here came another one I had to adjust to.  

We had practice every day after school.  Mondays were spent at the outdoor ice rink at Bear Mountain, while Wednesdays and Fridays were spent at our home rink on the other side of the county.  Tuesdays and Thursdays were spent in the weight room at the school, followed by running laps around the building or down at the football field.  If it was too wet or cold, we'd run through the school halls, which was always fun because we'd run past other clubs or activities that looked at us like we were crazy.  Most of us were!

Coach always held a Saturday morning training session, too.  Everyone would show up sleepy from being out late on Friday nights after practice.  I was tired too, although most of my Fridays involved staying up late on the internet or watching TV instead of the kinds of things the other guys were up to.  

Then again, that's probably why I remember so much obscure pop culture stuff from 90s television!

If we had a game that evening, we'd still meet in the morning, but just for video and strategy review before heading home to relax before the game.  I can still picture everyone lounging around the front entrance of the school in the late 90s/early 2000s, wearing standard-issue teenage boy attire: hooded sweatshirts, cotton plaid pajama pants, and a long lanyard attached to our car keys, hanging out of one of the pockets.  

And not a cellphone in sight.

It was at one of those early Saturday practices when Ray, a kid on the team, taught me the "call collect but leave your message as the name" trick.  He'd use it to get picked up by his parents after practice was over.  This was well before the old "It's-Bob-We-Had-A-Baby-It's-A-Boy" commercial from years back, alerting everyone else to the scam.

I've written about my love of the autumn season on numerous occasions, and you can check out my articles on the Coca Cola Monsters of the Grid Iron and the Fall Brawl 1995 at Granny's house in the Collections Section if you'd like.  You'll find some other fall-related stuff there, too, plus all of my Halloween items.

Heading off to college in the Fall of 2002 was an adventure, like it is for any kid.  College was only about 2 hours away from home, and for the first semester, I'd drive home every weekend to do laundry, stock up on water bottles and snacks, sleep in my old bed, and spend time next door with Granny and Gramps while I still could.  

My schedule was pretty flexible in college, and in my first semester, I could be back home on Thursdays before lunch.  In other semesters, I'd stack my Mondays and Wednesdays and be done with classes by Wednesday evening, allowing me to have a really lovely long weekend to hang out and take extra flight lessons.  

I lived in the "Honors" dorm building, which meant I didn't have a roommate.  I was supposed to live in the Aviation Dorm with the other students in my program, with my friend from kindergarten, Chris.  Unfortunately, Chris backed out at the last minute.  He told me the morning of move-in day that he had decided to go to a different school, so I arrived at campus bummed out and was nervously expecting to find a stranger for a roommate.  

I was pleasantly surprised to find that, because of the last-minute roommate switch, I was placed in a room by myself, except that it wasn't in the Aviation building.

As a person who enjoys his personal space, having a room to myself was great, but being in a different building from my friends and going home on weekends kept me isolated, preventing me from forming deeper friendships.  Plus, being a bit of a teetotaler, focused on my flight lessons also excluded me from doing some of the things they have great stories about, but I have no regrets.  

By the end of my sophomore year, I was on the college hockey team, and I would only go home on holiday breaks.  As a result, I felt much more a part of my group of friends.

One of the things I really enjoyed and looked forward to was selecting the courses for the following year at the end of every semester.  

My first semester schedule was given to me, but from then on, it was a matter of using the very basic school website to build my schedule.  It was such a basic, early internet site that it used a series of drop-down lists, reminiscent of those found on old websites made on GeoCities or Angelfire.  

It sent my selections as a "Form" (for you old HTML users), and some human on the backend had to input all of my choices into the system.  It was a very simple system, but I always had fun trying to map out my schedule.  

I loved poring over the elective catalogue, and from the very start, I had a list of courses I wanted to take before I graduated.  I took Native American history, which was quite interesting but very limited in scope to the tribes from Long Island.  I took enough American History classes to get a "concentration" in Pre-Civil War American history.  I was told that my school didn't "do" minors, but I could get a "concentration" in something.  

It's not listed anywhere on my degree or anything, just a tiny memo on the transcript.  

Which now, 20 years later, doesn't mean a whole heck of a lot.  

One class I always wanted to take was called Italian Cinema.  I thought it would be fun, and one of my friends even agreed to join me.  There was only one problem.  I don't speak Italian, except for a few salty words.  I had no idea what was happening because the professor spoke Italian during class as well, and I barely made it through with a D-.  

That was her being kind, too.  

The class I always REALLY wanted to take was called "Film and Literature."  The course description said, "Read the book, watch the movie, and discuss!"  What could be easier?  I like movies!  I can read!

Thinking I was in for something fun, I immediately realized my mistake on the first day when the professor turned out to be a wacked out former (and still practicing?) hippie who held up Pride and Prejudice and Wuthering Heights.  After being told we had to buy them to get through the first HALF of the semester, I realized I had made a major mistake. 

All was not lost, though.  On our first test, I didn't bother to buy or even read the book (or the CliffsNotes), so I decided to copy the answers from the pretty girl seated in front of me.  

We got to talking after that, and over 20 years later... we're still together and have a beautiful daughter.  

It all worked out, I'd say... even if she thought my name was "Jack" and not "Jeff" for about 6 months, but that's another story.  

These days, Fall is more about relaxing.  My job is hectic over the summer, involving long stretches of time away from home with minimal days off.  Summer is when most people want to travel, and the unfortunate side effect of that is that I have to work more to help take them there.

September through early November are typically slow months, allowing me to spend more time at home.  Projects get done, and before my daughter started going to preschool, we'd take longer vacations in September and October to take advantage of lower crowds and cheaper fares. 

This Fall?  

I'm not sure exactly what I have planned.  We have a few projects around the house, and we're adjusting to our new schedule, but what can I say but I really am blessed.  

By the time you read this, we'll have already taken our annual trip to Orlando to celebrate Halloween with Uncle Mickey.  In late August, we spent some time on the beach with Grandma and Grandpa, and then kicked off the spooky season earlier than ever this year.  We used to go every year in early October, but we've had to adjust our plans.  This year, we visited the Mouse House early and really enjoyed the "Not So Scary Halloween Party" together, just as we have in years past.  

Thankfully, Orlando was not as hot and humid as it typically is in August.

From here on out, we'll do our best to enjoy the cooler weather, get ready for the bright vibrant hues of a New England Autumn, and a chance to breathe a little before the Christmas rush.  

Thanks again for reading my nonsense here at Yesteryear.  It means the world to me to have an outlet for some creativity, get thoughts off my chest, and share (and gain) knowledge about stuff I love.  

Better yet, it's a place to leave some memories for my daughter, so that one day, if and when she decides to read any of this, she'll gain a better idea of who her Dad really is.