Posts Tagged ‘Sharpie’

It was like it was August, 1969 all over again. Nine years old, I was in the 4th grade; it was my first day at a new school, in a new home, in a new state, and I was nervous. My mother had been to K-Mart, probably spending my father’s whole paycheck on all of our school supplies. At the time she had three kids in school and three at home, she appeared to be a whole lot happier about me going to school than I was.

Who knew?

Three new pencils, a spiral notebook, an eraser, a 24 pack of Crayola crayons, and a small bottle of Elmer’s White glue. In three weeks I would be cursing the easy flow spout, helplessly plugged up with small pieces of red and blue crey paper that some genius had stuffed in the bottle as a dyeing agent; transforming it from it’s familiar white emulsion to a psychedelic tie dye purple. It was years later that I finally made the connection that the friendly looking little bull on the label, probably represented the hooves of the friendly little bulls processed inside. We had rehearsed the route with  several dry runs from our house to my new school before it went into session, so that when the first day of school arrived I was ready.

So it felt strange to feel a similar twinge when I got up yesterday morning. It had been a while since I’d set the alarm for 4:45 a.m. but I didn’t have any trouble getting out of bed. The night before I’d set out my work clothes; on the kitchen counter I had several piles of keys, my employee access card, one pen, a Sharpie, and my pocket screw driver. I was ready to roll.

As I made my way into the living room and flicked on the overhead light, the dog who was splashed out on the couch, gave me the same “What the H*ll?” look that my wife did when I turned on the lamp at my night stand. Begrudgingly she gave me some room on the couch as I laced up my work boots. It was not unlike the reaction I get from my wife when I climb into bed and she yields to me my small patch of memory foam real estate.

Stuffing my pockets with keys, a pocket knife, and choking down my blood pressure medicine with a pomegranate juice chaser I made my way out the door. A quick pat down to confirm that I had my pen and Sharpie, I glanced to the dog who had returned to the dream she was in before I interrupted her, I closed the door turned the dead bolt and I was off.

Driving in Denver morning traffic takes on a “24 Hours of Le Mans” feeling to it, and the month off had softened my reaction times. Having made the transition from the entrance ramp to the 70 mile per hour traffic successfully, I turned on my radio; it seems to help calm my nerves as some fricking ass**** is trying to drive up my tailpipe… I needed calming.

Lefthand at 11.30 on the wheel I settled in, instinctively I felt my shirt pocket a quick reassuring check to see that every thing was there… crap I had forgotten my Texas Instrument TI 35 XA Scientific Calculator!

Images of 1969 returned as I made the corner and walked into the school playground… crap I fogot my HotWheels Lunch Box and thermos! We were probably in for a long day.

Talk to you later.


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