I have now been living with Humphrey's parents for over two weeks and his mother Bernise dug up an old collection of essays he wrote in his senior year of high school.
There is one about soccer which is the focus of the globe right now as South Africa hosts the World Cup. But before we get to Humphrey's thoughts on the original football, I'll describe this collection of writing.
The cover page simply says SENIOR SCRAPBOOK. For whatever reason, he decided to write everything in size 14, all caps, Castellar. The choice of this stencil-looking font is questionable, but I assume that he was trying to write as little as possible and the font stretched things out.
Bernise keeps everything and it came as no surprise to me that she also bound the essays with three red and white shoelace-lookin' strings. Humphrey's first essay follows. It has not been edited. He doesn't fully understand commas but it is fine writing for a senior in high school.
WHO AM I?
THIS IS HUMPHREY I AM IN MY SENIOR YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL AT HANGOVER. THIS IS MRS. MCMILLAN'S CLASS, END OF THE YEAR PROJECT. A LITTLE ABOUT MYSELF. I HAVE MANY LEATHER BOUND BOOKS, MY APARTMENT SMELLS OF RICH MAHOGANY, I GO OUT WITH MERLIN OLSON, ON OCCASION. I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE ASKING YOURSELF. AND THE ANSWER IS YES. I HAVE A NICKNAME FOR MY STOMACH. IT'S CALLED THE OCTAGON. BUT I ALSO NICKNAMED MY LEGS. MY LEFT ONE IS JAMES WESTFALL AND MY RIGHT ONE IS DR. KENNETH NOISEWATER. I'M ALL ABOUT HAVING FUN. YOU KNOW, GET A COUPLE OF COCKTAILS IN ME, START A FIRE IN SOMEONE’S KITCHEN, MAYBE GO TO SEA WORLD, TAKE MY PANTS OFF. PEOPLE SEEM TO LIKE ME BECAUSE I AM POLITE, AND I’M RARELY LATE. I LIKE TO EAT ICE CREAM AND I REALLY ENJOY A NICE PAIR OF SLACKS. ON A FUNNIER NOTE, I LIVE IN THE MAGNIFICENT TOWN OF MECHANICSVILLE, JUST NORTH OF RICHMOND. I WILL BE ATTENDING JAMES MADISON UNIVERSITY IN HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA, IN THE FALL. I PLAN TO STUDY HISTORY AND EVENTUALLY BECOME A HIGH SCHOOL HISTORY TEACHER. I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO BECOME A BASEBALL COACH AT THE HIGH SCHOOL LEVEL.
“FRANNIE MAC” IS PROBABLY PISSED THAT I ‘WASTED’ A PAGE BUT IT IS COOL BECAUSE THIS IS WHO I AM. I DON’T ACTUALLY DO HALF OF THAT STUFF I LISTED ABOVE BUT CHANNEL FOUR NEWS IS A BIG PART OF MY LIFE AND MOM YOUR PROBABLY PISSED RIGHT NOW TOO, BUT THIS IS MY BOOK NOT YOURS, EVEN THOUGH I WILL HAND IT TO YOU ONCE I GET BACK FROM FRANNIE MAC (YES THAT RHYMES) AND I WILL MOST LIKELY NEVER SEE IT AGAIN.
He seems to be afraid of using paragraphs and he may also be bi-polar (thinks he is Ron Burgundy).
Credit is due to "Frannie Mac" because it was she who suggested Hangin' with Humphrey look into the high school writing. On the Hangin' with Humphrey facebook page, the web savvy co-ed wrote this: "As "Humphrey's" former English teacher, I suggest that you consider posting a few of his old essays, ranging in topics from why soccer sucks to the history of the toilet. True gems, I assure you."
Thanks Frannie Mac.
Stay tuned for Part 2.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Class of 1960? Hell Yeah!
First I will start off by expressing my deepest regrets. Not only have I started a new job, but for about a month now Jersey Mike and I have been working on the infrastructure of Hangin' with Humphrey.
From what I hear, Hangin' with Humphrey droughts are catastrophic for some of the biggest fans. Rumor has it that a few co-eds have simply stopped menstruating. Without rousing stories of their favorite celebrity, there reproductive organs no longer function as a result of negative libidos. As a result guys are resorting to activity once thought to be shared by only Pat and Big Chris, not to be confused with Chris.
Anyhow, shall we get back to the tale of that sunny Friday when Humphrey legitimized himself as a bona fide performer? I think so. (See the previous post from late May if you need refreshing.)
Upon leaving the classroom, which is now one of the most legendary on campus, Humphrey and I decided to briefly set up shop in the third floor hallway of Harrison Hall. Well, one of our 40 bottles actually decided to set up shop. Somehow it crawled out of Humphrey's satchel and stood upright in the walkway.
As passersby strode though, Humphrey and I politely warned people of the hallway's suspicious obstacle.
"Watch out co-eds! There's a 40 bottle there."
"Careful ahead. Someone left there 40 bottle in the hallway again."
"Guys be careful, will ya? Some kids got in this morning and were drinking in the hallway."
Thanks to Humphrey's thoughtfulness -- which I'm fast learning came from his beautiful mother Bernise... but more on that another day -- no one was hurt from tripping over that 40 bottle.
But before we left the building a squirreley lookin' professor popped out of his classroom and questioned me and Humphrey.
"Is that yours?" the academic asked us while pointing to that suspicious, and delicious, bottle.
"No sir," we said in unison, trying our hardest to keep straight expressions.
"Have you guys been drinking?" Poindexter followed up.
"Not at all sir. We saw someone put that bottle there and run. We were just warning people about it."
"OK. Well you guys don't seem drunk."
Hmmm... I don't think we'll ever know what that guy was thinking. In any case, we booked it out of there and decided not to push our luck -- at least not until we got down to the Quad.
The Adventure continues on the Quad
When we got down to the Quad, we were still feelin' pretty good so we decided to strut our stuff down that main stretch in front of the iconic Wilson Hall. Wilson Hall wasn't the only icon though. Mind you, Humphrey was still glowing in his gold Guido shirt and daisy dukes. (I didn't look too bad in my cut-off Ride Me T-shirt and anatomically correct blue corduroys.)
Believe it or not, we weren't the only ones admiring our attire. Countless co-eds whistled at us and two special ladies even locked our arms. It may have been the other way around but Betty Lou and Evelyn were smitten.
Those aren't common names of our generation, you say. Well that's because these silver co-eds were a part of a campus tour for the Class of 1960!
They were thoroughly enjoying our company and even there husbands took to us. Humphrey called them dolls and told them how beautiful they were and their husbands asked us where we were from, what we study, etc.
Then in typical JMU fashion, one of the nerdy tour guides had to meddle. He was an 2005 graduate, according to his cool name tag. He told us that we needed to leave the tour and not bother the ladies. I had no idea that the class of 2005 was the only class in JMU history to not produce fun people with senses of humor.
We obliged after apologizing to Betty Lou and Evelyn for having to split so soon. They promised that they would see us later that night in Ashby Crossing for a three kegger. Either they stood us up or their own partying days at the Normal School are catching up to them.
It was a quite the morning. Well needed naps ensued.
From what I hear, Hangin' with Humphrey droughts are catastrophic for some of the biggest fans. Rumor has it that a few co-eds have simply stopped menstruating. Without rousing stories of their favorite celebrity, there reproductive organs no longer function as a result of negative libidos. As a result guys are resorting to activity once thought to be shared by only Pat and Big Chris, not to be confused with Chris.
Anyhow, shall we get back to the tale of that sunny Friday when Humphrey legitimized himself as a bona fide performer? I think so. (See the previous post from late May if you need refreshing.)
Upon leaving the classroom, which is now one of the most legendary on campus, Humphrey and I decided to briefly set up shop in the third floor hallway of Harrison Hall. Well, one of our 40 bottles actually decided to set up shop. Somehow it crawled out of Humphrey's satchel and stood upright in the walkway.
As passersby strode though, Humphrey and I politely warned people of the hallway's suspicious obstacle.
"Watch out co-eds! There's a 40 bottle there."
"Careful ahead. Someone left there 40 bottle in the hallway again."
"Guys be careful, will ya? Some kids got in this morning and were drinking in the hallway."
Thanks to Humphrey's thoughtfulness -- which I'm fast learning came from his beautiful mother Bernise... but more on that another day -- no one was hurt from tripping over that 40 bottle.
But before we left the building a squirreley lookin' professor popped out of his classroom and questioned me and Humphrey.
"Is that yours?" the academic asked us while pointing to that suspicious, and delicious, bottle.
"No sir," we said in unison, trying our hardest to keep straight expressions.
"Have you guys been drinking?" Poindexter followed up.
"Not at all sir. We saw someone put that bottle there and run. We were just warning people about it."
"OK. Well you guys don't seem drunk."
Hmmm... I don't think we'll ever know what that guy was thinking. In any case, we booked it out of there and decided not to push our luck -- at least not until we got down to the Quad.
The Adventure continues on the Quad
When we got down to the Quad, we were still feelin' pretty good so we decided to strut our stuff down that main stretch in front of the iconic Wilson Hall. Wilson Hall wasn't the only icon though. Mind you, Humphrey was still glowing in his gold Guido shirt and daisy dukes. (I didn't look too bad in my cut-off Ride Me T-shirt and anatomically correct blue corduroys.)
Believe it or not, we weren't the only ones admiring our attire. Countless co-eds whistled at us and two special ladies even locked our arms. It may have been the other way around but Betty Lou and Evelyn were smitten.
Those aren't common names of our generation, you say. Well that's because these silver co-eds were a part of a campus tour for the Class of 1960!
They were thoroughly enjoying our company and even there husbands took to us. Humphrey called them dolls and told them how beautiful they were and their husbands asked us where we were from, what we study, etc.
Then in typical JMU fashion, one of the nerdy tour guides had to meddle. He was an 2005 graduate, according to his cool name tag. He told us that we needed to leave the tour and not bother the ladies. I had no idea that the class of 2005 was the only class in JMU history to not produce fun people with senses of humor.
We obliged after apologizing to Betty Lou and Evelyn for having to split so soon. They promised that they would see us later that night in Ashby Crossing for a three kegger. Either they stood us up or their own partying days at the Normal School are catching up to them.
It was a quite the morning. Well needed naps ensued.
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