Monday, August 25, 2008

Back to School

Ok, I was just thinking about school. It's that time of year. I spent my first nine years in Catholic grammar school, which explains my fear of penguins.


Sister Mashed Potatoes

From there I went to a high school run by the Brothers of the Good Death, St. Rocko's High School.

I was thinking back to my first day. We got a tour of the school. I'll give you the tour I pretty much got. Over there is the main building. You won't be there. You'll be in the Annex, aptly named because well, it was some WWII era building, and they had to name it something. Unless, of course, you have a class in the barn. Named so because, well, you can figure that one out. (Ed. Note No, this wasn't in some rural region in Kansas, this was in Central New Jersey in the mid to late 20th Century. Go figure.)

There you have your soccer fields, the cemetery, the track, the.....wait a minute, did he just say cemetery? Yeah, my high school had its own cemetery. Right on the friggin campus. Just for the school. So, when one of the Battling Brothers met his ultimate reward, he became a permanent part of the campus. Even a few of the lay teachers were planted there, too. St. Rocko's was like the Mafia of high schools, you could never leave.

Did I mention that corporal punishment was not only allowed; it was almost expected and encouraged at St. Rocko's, right? We had a Dean of Discipline, and an Assistant Dean of Discipline, just in case the Dean was feeling good. There was an entire hierarchy of Disciplinarians, in fact.Photobucket

One of the older teachers, Brother Artifact, I believe, used to roam the school with something called the Whumper. No one was sure exactly what it was, speculation ranged from a blackjack to a bag of nickels, to a shilelagh. We never found out, but nearly every student at one time or another felt the effects of the Whumper on our legs, or backs, or arms. Photobucket

Brother Knuckles routinely used to offer to box students 2 at a time to even up the odds. No one dared accept his challenges, either. Occasionally, he would work over a random senior to stay in shape.

And detention. Punks today have it easy. We worked in the fields or the gardens, anywhere the Brothers decided landscaping or crop rotation was needed.

Yeah, I miss those days.

Disclaimer: Every word is more or less true, but the names have been changed to protect the author. He still lives within an all too short driving distance of St Rocko's.

They aren't afraid to go back to school at:

Update: Still waiting on entrecard techs to figure out why I can't sign in.


MYM said...

That spanking smiley is very disturbing. Well, the idea of spanking or hitting is disturbing, especially kids.

I don't have kids but I used to be one and no one ever hit me. I don't have the time of day for people who say it's okay to hit kids. I mean, when I go to work and I do something wrong or I get all pissy with my boss ... he/she doesn't hit me. So why do we think it's okay to hit kid? We do because we can get away with it, that's why.

Okay...stepping off my soapbox now.

Anonymous said...

Wow...I guess you won't be doing that penguin thing I mentioned earlier with anybody any time soon. It probably brings back horrible memories, lol.

TheFLy said...

Dont lie, you liked the spankings. You would go "oooo...err, I mean ow!" haha.

buzz buzz

Unknown said...

Well, that post just ruined all of my fantasies. For I have been digging up all of my clever come-backs from days of drunk and stupid past, and now I come to find that there is nothing that I could possibly throw at you that you haven't been hit with before. Alas, I am sorely disappointed, dejected, depressed, and a few other "d" words that I need to look up.

A New Yorker said...

I just took my beatings at home! HA!!

Da Old Man said...

@ Drowsey: Yeah, someone decided it was a good idea to smack us around. More than once, I saw a kid get whacked pretty good. We had a few teachers who were ex-Marines.

@ JD: No, nothing to do with penguins

@ The Fly: Not spankings. We got roughed up.

@ Fishhawk: Note to self, get Fishhawk a thesaurus for Christmas.

@ lauren: Trust me, if word ever got to my father that Brother Knuckles or Brother Artifact hit me, when I got home, I'd get much more of the same. They had to have a good reason would have been the logic.

Unknown said...

Wow-- so now we know about the cemetery you'd eluded to earlier... I do not envy you your formative years, Crotchety. :)

Da Old Man said...

@ Jenn: It explains a lot.

Anonymous said...

I wish we'd had our own school cemetary. Kids could only dream of such things!

Anonymous said...

Everything I've ever heard about Catholic schools has made me very, very glad I never went to one. It all sounds quite horrific. :(

Their own cemetary? Brothers of the Good Death??? Yikes. It's enough to depress a person just reading that.

Da Old Man said...

@ Tiggy: Yeah, it was a combination of creepy and awesome.

@ jay: It was an interesting time.

Chat Blanc said...

holy crap! the cemetery alone would have scared me into behaving. Creep-ola!

Da Old Man said...

@ Chat: You would have thought so, but no. :)