Tuesday, September 4, 2007

post-Labor: The Pledge of Allegiance and Public Nudity on Campus (Rebel Girl)


Rebel Girl spent her Labor Day weekend in the local mountains doing her best impression of a daughter-in-law, a role that doesn't quite fit. Still, this year found her making real progress, she thought, whipping out a tray of appetizers, two salads (from the pages of Gourmet, no less) and two dozen home baked chocolate chip cookies for the Labor Day Country Club BBQ (don't ask). She also designed a centerpiece for the family table. (Last year, the first year since her mother-in-law passed away, Rebel Girl showed up at the annual BBQ without the requisite tablecloth and centerpiece, thus losing any chance she might have had to win a prize, plus failing Intro to Family Matriarch 101.)

This year would be different, she promised.

She imagined that her centerpiece, which had wit and narrative (a reenactment of a recent raccoon pie-stealing incident), plus solid execution of this year's theme (wild wildlife) would sweep the judges.

Instead, some 20 minutes after the table was set and as the crowds began to gather, the heavens opened and thunder and lightning rolled. People fled to their cabins. An hour later, after over an inch of rain was dumped, the soggy denizens returned to the green to reclaim their drenched tables. There are no photos to record that scene. However, the salads were salvaged and the roast beast saved and spirits were restored.

Rebel Girl, to be honest, enjoyed the interruption, reveled in the peals of thunder and flashes of lightening. It may have been all those negative ions. It may have been her barely repressed anti-social attitude. She was also looking forward to her prize. The rain only made her centerpiece more authentic, she thought. But she was not to win. Apparently, the centerpiece contest was reformed and this year EVERYONE got prizes for their table centerpiece. Which is pretty anti-American if you ask Rebel Girl. Rebel Girl received a picture frame for her effort, which was recognized for its presentation of a current event.

Did Rebel Girl mention that it was HOT? Despite the downpour? Still is.

Kindergarten
Yesterday morning she dropped the little guy off at kindergarten. Day three. She asked him how he liked it so far and he said he liked it well enough but was disappointed that they hadn't gone on any field trips yet.

At the school, Rebel Girl does her best impression of concerned mother and tries not to FREAK OUT over the little stuff.

Grammatical errors in the PTA materials.

Boys in one line, girls in the other. No biggie, right?

Patriots Day assembly on Wednesday September 11th.

The Pledge of Allegiance. (To his credit, young son has already asked his godless parents about the "under God" part. We advised him that he didn't have to say it if he didn't want to. "Can I say 'underwear' instead?" he asked. Five-year-old boys. What are you gonna do?)

How about this: In the lunchroom, milk is sold in plastic bags to be pierced by plastic straws. The "breakfast" prepared for the children who wish to buy it or who qualify for free breakfast (as I once did) is a series of sad menus: raspberry churros, poptarts, power bars. Plus the milk in a bag. What happened to the oatmeal? The dry cereal? The fruit cup?

Don't get me started on the lunch menu.

Community College
Yesterday at our public institution of higher education, Rebel Girl braved the heat for her annual trudge across campus to buy her parking pass. Chunk offered to drive her but she foolishly turned him down. "I can walk" were her exact words. "It's not that hot."

Ha.

It's worth noting that the shortest distance between Rebel Girl's office and the newly relocated Campus Police Headquarters takes her across the green Student Services lawn, through a couple buildings and then through a distant parking lot.

It was hot. Too hot.

But it did allow her to notice a trend that she had never seen before. Some sporting acitivity had just finished and, apparently in lieu of returning to the gym to change, the sporting fellows instead repaired to the parking lot to strip and change in the vicinity of their large vehicles, hovering in the open car doorways and blasting loud rock and roll music as they stripped.

It was a sight. Rebel Girl kept her eyes averted the best she could.

When she finally made it to the Campus Police Headquarters, she asked the young woman on duty if the parking lot was always so filled with half-naked young men.

Sure is, she replied, glancing out the window with a smile.

Roy's obituary in LA Times and Register: "we were lucky to have you while we did"

  This ran in the Sunday December 24, 2023 edition of the Los Angeles Times and the Orange County Register : July 14, 1955 - November 20, 2...