Roundboy's Ramblings: April 2015

The Day I found out I was Fat

I’ve kind of always been a chubby guy. Even when I was in High School and wrestled, I was a Roundboy at heart. It wasn’t until 2^nd grade that I was told I was fat. At first, I didn’t even know what it meant. I knew what fat was, I trimmed it off my pork chops.

I went to The Birches Elementary School. It was a modern building for its day, single story with lots and lots of surrounding area, plenty of room for game fields, swing sets and eventual expansion. The Birches Development was part of the new Washington Township. It had sprung up, as the locals would say, overnight.

The Birches were said to have been the best value for the dollar as far as housing in the country during the late 60’s and early 70’s. Cookie cutter Split level homes and acres upon acres of sprawling Ranch houses. I believe it was a base price of $6400. Yup that’s Six Thousand Four Hundred. You can’t get buried for that price today.

Anyways, I was a Cross Keys Kid; we grew up on the fringe of the Township. Cut off on three sides by farm fields and “woods”. We were associated more with Williamstown, the hamlet next door, than our own tax revenue recipients but we were still Twp, through and through.

For some reason I still don’t quite understand, I was bussed from one corner of the Municipality to the extreme other. I suppose gas was so cheap they could care less about logistics. We literally passed by three other district schools on our way. My kindergarten class met at Grenlock Elementary, the very same institution my Dad had attended until being shipped to Williamstown for High School. Yea my Mom and Dad predated Twp High. But that’s a story for another day.

Mrs. Jones, my Dad’s 6^th grade teacher…for three years straight…met me as I rolled off the bus my first day. She reminded me of Lucille Ball, a redhead with piercing green eyes. Her freckled skin stretched tightly across perfectly structured bones. She had a kind face, but her eyes showed a little fire inside of them. She looked like she was a lot of fun. I knew instantly why my Dad revered her so; he had that same fire in his eyes. I could see were a little bit of my Pop’s personality came from. She made me like school, right off the bat, I enjoyed being a student.

Ok, so I was a fairly well adjusted, very happy, young fella. Fast forward a few years to Mrs. Burroughs Class, my second grade teacher. She was the classic 60’s teacher. If you visited the school and saw her in the hall you would immediately think, “There goes the Librarian”. Horned rimmed, bedazzled glasses with a bead necklace connected to the frames hung draped around her sweater clad shoulders. Her sensible shoes looked uncomfortable, but not worn. You could tell they would go directly in the closet upon arriving home and her house shoes were fully engaged. She always wore a dress, below the knee, always a calming pattern. Mrs. B was a sharp dresser for her day.

One Monday morning, after the Pledge of Allegiance and God Bless America, Mrs. B informed us that we would be sent down to the Nurse’s Office to be weighed, measured and get our eyes checked. Groups of 3, in no particular order were chosen. My buddy Al went with Sonya Myers, my very first crush, I liked girls, I liked them a lot. Andy Yoder was added and the 3 ventured out the classroom door down the hall and turned the corner.

They disappeared into the abyss of the 3^rd and 4^th grade Hall. The stretch of corridor that was the longest in the building, especially to a 2^nd grader, at times it seemed endless. Three quarters of the way down on the left was the main entrance to the school. An all glass front wall with two large doors jutted out between the Nurse’s and Main Offices.

In about ten minutes the three returned. I saw their adjacent seated peers leaning in and asking what it was like. I didn’t want to know. I wanted the entire experience to be vivid and fresh, untainted by other’s observations. I remember wishing in my head with my chubby little fingers entangled and pulled to my chin, “Two girls please send me with two girls!!”

I had 3 baby sisters, my Mom, My Nanny, I was surrounded by women. They were my audience, once I poured on the charm; they melted in my hands. I was confident. I was outgoing. I was fearless. Sure enough, Mrs. Borough’s called my name. I raised my eyebrows and scanned the room. My eyes locked on Chris Gormley, a sweet girl that was always very athletic, an attribute that gets my attention to this day. Sure enough, I heard her name. My heart started to thump and I fidgeted in my chair, sitting on my feet, doing my best to contain myself.

Then, I heard the second name. Kim Clay, my next door neighbor. Barely a girl, but she would do. Now, before you say, jerk and stop reading, trust me, I grew to regret that remark. Kim became a knock-out that had thrown me right on my ass in the friend zone. Yuck!

The three of us walked out the door and down the hall. As we turned the corner, the long hallway seemed to stretch to Philadelphia. I thought it would take the rest of the day to reach our destination. We passed the 3^rd and 4^th grade classrooms. The kids looked like adults to us, no way only a year or two older. The journey was finally nearing its end as we passed by the Janitor’s Closet.

Our trio turned the final corner and the light shining through the front windows blinded us for a second. I’m not sure that was the reason, but a whole lot of my classmates wore glasses until middle school, I guess their retinas had healed by then.

We entered the room. It smelled like alcohol and band aids. Mrs. Spiars was our nurse. A middle aged lady dressed all in white. Some days she wore a skirt but it wasn’t odd to see her wearing slacks. When she wore them I would think to myself, “Get your fudgey wudgey here!” and I would giggle. The irony of this observation was about to rear its ugly head, too bad I didn’t get the joke until now!

Chris went first, and then Kim and finally I took the eye test and passed. Then in the same order we stood tall against a chart on the wall. Mrs. Spiars would comment, “Grew an inch and a half since last spring Kim…you’re like a little weed!” and “Chris, you’ve grown an inch, soon you’ll be as tall as your Mommy!”

I stepped on the scale last, expecting a comment on my progress. Instead, I heard one of the most horrifying statements in my life.

“Jimmy Graham, whoa…that’s it!! NO MORE ICE CREAM!!”

My eyes flew wide, I couldn’t find any air, and I felt a flush of warmth cover my face.

“NO MORE ICE CREAM??”

I turned and looked at the girls that both had their hands covering their mouths, unsuccessfully holding back their laughter. I still didn’t feel embarrassed. I was confused. What had I done? Why was I being punished? I couldn’t understand it. Why Ice Cream??

We went back to our class. I was silent on my way down the hall and for the next two lessons. I just kept pondering over and over. Why? The only thing that snapped my stupor was the lunch bell. It rang and like one of Pavlov’s dogs I stopped what I was doing and prepared to have lunch.

I loved school lunches. Pizzaburgers being at the top of my list and today was Pizzaburger day. I quickly forgot about the ice cream and concentrated on the delicious aroma of them delicious delectables. I ate my lunch and then it hit me. I couldn’t have any ice cream. I began to cry. One of the lunch ladies, Mrs. Zaraziki saw me and came right over. She knew of me as a happy go lucky kind of kid and this way off base.

“Jimmy, what’s wrong honey?”

“Mrs. Spiar’s said I can’t have any more ice cream, snork…snork!!”

“Mrs. Spiar’s said that? I’ll be right back!”

Mrs. Zarazicki went over to the teachers’ lunch line and asked Mrs. Spiars why I couldn’t have any ice cream. I saw them talking and then move inside to speak with the cafeteria ladies. This was getting serious. I quietly left my lunch table and stood just outside the entrance to the kitchen. I heard this exchange.

“Jimmy was crying and said you told him he couldn’t have any more ice cream. Does he have a medical condition? Is that why?”

Mrs. Spiar’s kind of laughed and said, “No, No, No…he’s just fat, so ladies no more ice cream for Jimmy”

My knees buckled when I heard this! I was FAT? No I wasn’t…was I? Oh man, this really sucks!” I tried to hold it in but all this information at once, I just couldn’t stop it, I blurted out, “Ahhhh Crud!!!” I saw two heads pop out of the doorway. Mrs. Spiars and Mrs. Zarazicki both looked down at me and they both showed a bit of panic.

“How long have you been standing there Jimmy?” Mrs. Spiars stuttered.

“Long Enough” I uttered as I walked back to my seat with my hands in my pockets and feet shuffling. I had just heard it…I was FAT! My entire life I had thought of myself as nothing more than a kid. Now I was a fat kid. I could hear the cafeteria ladies awwwing as I walked away.

From that day on I aware of my size, I knew I was a Roundboy. I was actually cool with it, because you see the cafeteria ladies just loved this chubby little man. Until the day I graduated to middle school, they gave me what they called the Teachers Lunch…double helpings…cause of course I wasn’t allowed Ice cream.