Sunday, April 13, 2008

The Golden Age of Cradle Robbing

© 2008 Stan Spire

Teachers shouldn’t be dating students. At least, that’s become a big taboo over the years since I was in high school.

My school was rural, centralized. Back in the day it wasn’t uncommon for a male teacher, fresh out of college, to date one of the babes in the senior class.

One girl in my graduating class was all smiles on the last day of school, wearing a sparkling engagement ring. She had been stepping out with a science teacher. I guess she got special tutoring in biology.

There were at least three cases of male teachers bagging babes from various senior classes at Cowflop Central around the time of my imprisonment.

One day I was sitting in study hall. The desks were shoved together, side by side, to squeeze in the maximum amount of cabbages in neat rows. I was in the front row, near the teacher’s desk.

A senior babe was to my right, lost in her thought. (I do mean thought, not thoughts; she was a stereotypical blonde.)

I noticed the absentee list on the teacher’s desk. I reached over, only cutting across a small corner of the desk on my right. I glanced at the list, ascertained one of my friends wasn’t around that day, and then placed the sheet back on the teacher’s desk.

The study hall teacher noticed my action, thinking it was inappropriate.

“You know,” he said, “you supposed to excuse yourself when you reach in front of someone.”

“Really,” I replied. I glanced at the babe next to me. “Sorry, she blends into the woodwork so well, I didn’t see her.”

The teacher’s face became red –- not with embarrassment, but with rage. He sat there and boiled.

I found out later the pretty blonde senior next to me was his girlfriend.

Tough luck, ya pedophile.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Stories. I Hear Stories.

© Copyright 2008 Stan Spire

“They’re a bunch of crooks. They erased part of the videotape of the last town meeting.”

Indeed. Well, instead of telling everyone about it one afternoon at the barbershop, why don’t you contact the proper authorities?

I would be more than happy to see crooked politicians get theirs. But stories – rumors – mean nothing unless backed up with some solid info or leads.

A while ago someone emailed me about a local politician who used taxpayer funds to deck out a city vehicle with a custom leather interior and paint job. The vehicle was for his personal use while he supposedly served the voters. The pol in question has been the subject of other stories about misusing funds, so this one might be true. Is it? The emailer claimed to have inside knowledge. But that person never followed up with more details.

Maybe the emailer was on the level. But, sorry, I ain’t falling for rovean (Karl Rove) tactics.

If you want to nail a crook, provide evidence. And don’t mention it to me – pass it along to the right enforcement agency. Contact the media if there’s a cover-up and the authorities are in on it. Then, if all official and mainstream channels prove to be dead ends, it’s time to try a loose cannon blogger. But you still have to come across with some proof.

Telling stories at the barbershop or in an email won't bring about justice.

Officially Spring

© 2008 Stan Spire

Spring is “officially” here, so declared the local TeeVee weatherman. Arrived on March 20th, 2008 – the spring equinox.

Maybe it’s spring in your neck of the woods but here in NENYland winter ain’t over until late April. And even then it might snow in May. One year it snowed on the last weekend in May – Memorial Day weekend, the “official” start of summer vacation season.

It doesn’t matter which local TeeVee news you watch; they all whine about the weather. Where have these idiots been? Winters usually drag on around here; this ain’t down south where the flowers are blooming.

Since when does the vernal equinox mean that spring is supposed to suddenly break out all over? There’s this thing called CLIMATE. And the climate around here means it’s more like the arctic tundra than Florida.

Of course, all the winter yahoos are happy with snow on the ground. They’re stupidly happy with their toys, snowmobiles and skis – until they bash their brains into trees.

So there is an advantage to six months of winter: such a long season weeds out the weak minded from the herd.