Published: March 05, 2008 10:54 pm            

MIKE RELIFORD: Spring isn't fun and roses 3/5/08

It was in the spring that I got thrown out of the honor society. And it wasn’t for grades, either.

It was for something I had written for the junior high school newspaper, the Putnam Prattle. Getting in trouble for something I’d written was a portent of things to come, I suspect.

Jeanne Martin was the teacher in charge of The Prattle, and she hadn’t seen anything wrong in what I had written. But the lady who ran the honor society, a Southern Belle wannabe who gave “prim and proper” a new definition, certainly did.

I wish I could remember exactly what I wrote, but 60 years will make mush of your “gray matter” when it comes to that far back.

But I remember basically the line that flipped out “The Belle.” I had written a poem about spring. I mentioned baseball, warm weather, outdoor adventure, and flowers, including posies. I needed a word to match posies.

And, since a friend named Jim Early had a crush on Rosie Howard, I followed with this line: And holding hands will be all the Jims and Rosies. At least it went something like that.

“The Belle” had a fit, saying lewd talk like that was unbecoming of the honor society ... and demanded that I bring my torch pin to school the next day and give it to her. I was no longer a member of “her” group.

Well, I dreaded going home that day. Why? Because I had to face Mom, and tell her about being kicked out of the honor society.

She was pretty proud of me being a member because she desperately wanted us to get the education that evaded her and Dad. She demanded to know what happened.

When I explained, I saw a new side of my mother. She grabbed The Prattle, again read the poem she had already liked, and said nothing else about it.

The next morning, I was shocked and embarrassed. Mom was going to school with me. And, before the bell could ring to start the day, there we were ... Mom, me and “The Belle” facing off in what served as the school library.

Mom asked what the deal was, “The Belle” repeated how my bawdy poem was not honor society-worthy, and I stood as far back as I could.

Mom got as red-faced as I had ever seen her. Her hands balled into little fists and, for a split second, I thought she was going to cold-cock “The Belle.”

She didn’t. But she did get in her face, held the torch pin up and said something like this: You can throw him out if you must, but he didn’t do anything wrong and you will never, ever, get this pin.

At that point, she spun on her heels and, head high and torch pin in hand, headed toward the door, leaving me to deal with the aftermath.

I had a few more weeks before school closed for summer. And it wasn’t all that bad. I just stayed away from the library.

But even if “The Belle” had thrashed me daily, I wouldn’t have traded for anything that moment, when my mother went face-to-face with my enemy.

I didn’t get into any trouble at school for what happened. For all I know, “The Belle” just let it drop.

But if I learned nothing else from the moment, I did learn one thing: Don’t get on Mom’s bad side.

MIKE RELIFORD can be reached at (606) 326-2647 or at mreliford@dailyindependent.com

        

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