My favorite line of the day:

Jr. Woodchuckette, in response to one of my analysis pieces (of smurf) cracked, "The only Oscar I like is the Grouch", a sentiment I heartily concur with. I hate all awards ceremonies...in fact, I have come to hate all ceremonies and have been trying to figure out why. Recently, I came to the conclusion it goes all the way back to first grade.
Now, I have always been remarkably successful academically. My grades have always been at or near the top of every class. School actually came really easily to me. I love to read, have...scratch that, HAD a pretty above average memory, and had the willingness to work my smurf off when there was something I wanted. As a result, my early school years were uninterrupted success.
When I was in first grade my older sister Sue had already been going there for a year. To this day I do not know how Mom & Dad afforded it, but they put us both in a private school, drove us from St. Helens to the Montavilla district every day, bought us the requisite uniforms...light blue shirts, dark blue shirts, and red shirts I remember...the rest I have blotted out of my memory. I do remember the thermoses with the lukewarm Maruchan Chicken Noodles for lunch or the soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwhiches...you know how everyone looks back on their childhood as "the best days of my life"? Bull smurf. I like it now when I can drive my beloved Mustang to a movie theatre and pound popcorn and soda. Now, if only there were a beautiful young lady with me, it would be perfect... :-)...
Anyway, back on point, this school was part of the P.A.C.E. system...and no, I do not recall what the acronym was for. Suffice it to say, each subject had little booklets ranging between about 50 pages and over a hundred. You would read a little section, then answer a few questions. After each chapter would be a "self-test" that was a closed book test within the book...it was on the honor system. At the end of each booklet, or PACE, you took a PACE test covering all the material. If you passed, you completed that pace and moved on to a new one.
This style of learning fit me very well. So well, in fact, that in first grade, out of well over 200 students, I excelled so far above anyone that I completed something like 35 more paces than anyone else in the entire school. While most students struggled to complete 60 paces (the first trophy level), I completed well over 100. If I recall correctly, I completed over 150. And I also lied a little bit. One person exceeded me. Sue. She completed close to 175 PACES. Yeah, there was a time she was that sharp.
But this is about me and my detestation for ceremonies. Well, at the end of the year, we had a ceremony where you got trophies for completing X number of PACES in a subject, for grades, attendance...I don't remember what all. What I DO remember is nobody saying what we were supposed to do when our name was called.
So picture the scene: a shy (yes, there was a time my mouth wasn't open), excited young boy in front of 3 or 400 people...parents of other students, friends, relatives...and my name gets called to receive a trophy. I was excited. My eyes were glued on the massive monument of achievement (okay, so it was a 2 dollar plastic piece of crap...at the time I thought it was the coolest thing I had ever seen.) I rush up on stage and reach out to get my trophy.
No, sir. That ain't how it works. First you have to extend your right hand to shake his hand, while simultaneously extending your left across or over or under or something to accept the trophy, then you turn, face the audience, smile, and walk off. Well, that is what you were SUPPOSED to do. And in the principals defense, he DID try to explain this...in front of hundreds of hysterically laughing people. I am sure they thought it was "cute", but I thought it was embarrassing and painful and awkward...and I never wanted to go up there again.
Sadly, being little Mr. Superstudent, I did have to go up just minutes later. I thought everyone was laughing at me, and sure enough, since my face had been burning so red before and I had that roaring in my ears, I had not heard his explanation of how to do it ""right"". So I did it wrong again. The laughter was no quieter. I can still hear it now.
I think it was 12 times that night I received trophies for academic achievements. Taking that number as true, it was 12 times I had to go up in front of all these people. And I found, I kid you not, 12 different ways to accept an award wrong. Everyone else might have laughed, but I did not find it funny at all.
In fact, the next year I deliberately slacked off on my work so I would not get so many trophies. And I did everything I could from that day on to avoid award ceremonies. That hatred for them then bled over into other areas of life.
It has taken me years to be able to talk about that night. And let me assure you this...if you think I watched the Oscars or American Karaoke...err, idol, or any other show centered around awards...no. Just...no. I would rather run back to back marathons. ANd that, my friends, is never going to happen.
Oh, as a footnote....what happened to the close to 30 trophies I won in 3 years at that school? I broke them, threw them away, whatever. I had received so many of them, I thought it would always be like that, and awards meant nothing to me. What I would give to have a few of those now. But the only thing I know where is happens to be the clock from the year my brother Kenneth and I won the Employee of the Year Awards in the same year at TVBS. Probably worth more now that the company folded, and can you think of a better reason for a company to fold than having nobody better than Kenneth and I to be Employee of the Year? :-)