Sunday, August 3, 2014
Sunday Sundries, 11
1.The other day--for no reason I can really identify--the school songs from my elementary school days popped into my head. Unfortunately, I could remember only portions of them. In 1952-53, we were living in Amarillo, Texas, and I attended Avondale Elementary School only about a half-mile away (my brothers and I walked). Here are the lyrics I remember:
All hail, all hail, Avondale!
To the school we love so (well? fine?)
All hail, all hail, A-von-dale!
I got on the web, found an email address for the current Avondale librarian, and wrote to her about the song. Do the kids still sing it? Are there copies around? I haven't heard from her yet (but Avondale's first day of classes is not until 8/25, so I'm still hopeful). I'll keep you posted ...
And here's what I can remember from the song at Adams School in Enid, Oklahoma, a school my mother had also attended. It's really more or less of a "fight song." One of the biggest deals of the year was in the spring--the Little Olympics, a track meet pitting all the elementary schools in town against one another and held at the high school football field. I see on the web that Kiwanis is still sponsoring the event--nearly 75 years of doing so. (Link to information about Little Olympics.) The photo (I found it on Google Images) is from the 2013 event.
I participated one year--sixth grade--1955-56. I was the first runner in our shuttle relay (boys and girls were mixed). I was in second place when I passed the baton (a girl was ahead of me), and we stayed in second place the rest of the race. (I know--all my fault.) Somewhere, I still have that red ribbon featuring the Kiwanis logo. My dad was in the stands, and I went up and sat with him to watch the rest of the running events. The fastest kid in our school then was Larry Simpson. He was a slow starter but had an amazing finish, and he won the sprint events that year, coming from behind in all of them. My dad--a former high school sprint champion--was thrilled. I remember the the longest sprint (I don't think the kids ran 100 yds--maybe 60?), when Larry pulled ahead, Dad jumped up and cried out, That's just the way I ran! Here's a guess: He didn't leap up like that when I ran my shuttle heat! (And I don't blame him.)
Anyway, here's the Adams School song (or what I can remember of it) that we sang during Little Olympics time:
Run, Adams, we are rootin' for you.
Run, Adams, we are loyal and true.
With victory so sweet--
We'll win it so neat--
...? our flying feet!
I'll email Adams School this week and see if I have any better luck finding out the rest of it.
2. On Friday night, Joyce and I drove down to Szalay's Market to get some sweet corn and other things. When we stopped at Szalay's farm, which is about ten miles from our house, I noticed that our peppy Prius (which always tells us the mileage for each journey) said we'd just done 66.6 mpg. 666! I mentioned the culturally eerie number to Joyce, and no sooner had I done so (oh, maybe .666 seconds later) than I smacked the back of my hand into the just-opened door. A bit of blood leaped to the surface. And, somewhere, Satan smiled!
3. This week introduced us to August 1, and that was a date of great significance for me when I was teaching. It was the day that I began preparing in earnest for the beginning of school. I would start outlining my syllabus, fitting things on a calendar, preparing handouts, getting them ready to photocopy at school. I would go to my classroom early in August, start hanging the posters that would adorn my walls for the opening weeks (I changed the displays throughout the year), wearing out the copy machine, arranging my room, etc. By the time the kids arrived, I was mega-ready ...