Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Let's take a break from the football talk today to ponder something that I've been thinking about lately. That's right, it's time that I take you back down memory lane. But shockingly, there will be absolutely no mention of high school football today. I know, I know, you are all sad. No, we're going to even further back into the vault today. Allow me...
Remember gym class? When I was rocking out at West Elementary School (West IS Best!), we had gym 2 or 3 times a week. On the other days, we had Music with the extremely unsexy, Mrs. Sasaki. Needless to say, gym was awesome because the alternative was the exact opposite. The whole mindset in elementary school PE class is that you wanted to show everyone that you were a baller. You may not have realized it at the time, but it was important (at least for me) that my classmates saw I could play. I was probably (and likely still am) the greatest 5th grade floor hockey player of all time. Little did I know that later in life, I would record a hat trick during an intramural broomball game in college. THAT was an awesome feeling. The skills translated, homes! Anyway, gym class in your younger years was more about developing an athletic reputation (like my inability to do more than one pull-up!).
Then we went off to middle school and the dynamic changed. Gym took on a whole new meaning. Puberty hits and everything is a little awkward. You have to maintain a delicate balance as you want to impress the ladies (or in Nate B.'s case, the boys) but you still want to win in whatever game is being played that day. And that is not necessarily easy. You want to make sure that you still dominate, but you don't want to sweat through your shirt to do it because what 7th grade girl wants to hold hands with the kid that is always soaking wet? So you end up half-assing it. Except for on Dodgeball Day. That is when you, the one who already established his reputation in elementary school as a stud, start taking out all of your pent-up rage and confusing hormones on the class dweebs. For some reason, you assume that drilling the cute girls in the face with a plastic ball is effective flirting. It is not. But is effective at being known as the class asshole. So now you have, in essence, fell off of that fine line. Now you have to spend the rest of your days kissing the asses of some broads with sweet asses. Middle school gym class is all about looking cool and trying not to get a boner. Because you definitely don't want to be the guy forever known as "that kid who got a hard-on playing crab soccer".
Once you get to high school, everything changes again. No one really cares anymore about how they look because PE class is MUCH better than sitting in Spanish or something else fucking lame. Our HS gym teacher invented a game called "Omniball" which is probably the greatest game ever. But you need a "Grand Canyon" to play it. Anyway, the unique thing about our high school was that we had a pool. Every year, for a week or two, we would do nothing but hit the water for some swimming. It was absolutely a necessity to be in the same gym class as some hot chicks. A FUCKING MUST. That first day of class, you immediately scoped out the clientele to make sure that you had something to stare at during the swimming sessions. I mean, seeing some 18 year old butt cheeks at 9:00 AM is just as awesome as it sounds. Sure, I'm a fucking horrific swimmer, but I still have fond memories of that pool. If you couldn't tell, I'm sort of creepy.
So, now that you have a bit of a backstory behind gym class and some memories are flooding back (hopefully of some sexy swimming turd cutters), let me get to the point of this (because it has almost nothing to do with I was just talking about). Now maybe this was just a northwest Ohio thing, but then again, maybe this is a nationwide thing. Let me know because this has always confused me:
WHY IN THE FUCK WAS ONE OR TWO WEEKS OF FUCKING SQUARE DANCING A GYM CLASS REQUIREMENT???
Once we got to high school, this was no longer part of the curriculum. But in grades 1-8, why did schools force this bizarre form of hillbilly dancing on us? Trust me, I have never been in a situation since in which I needed to know how to allemande left (allemande right, come on you fucking dummy get the right step right!***extreme bonus points to those of you who get that reference).
In elementary school, our awesome gym teacher, Mr. Edwards, seemed to love Square Dancing Week because everyone hated it so much. He used to wheel in the damn record player and yell at people for not do-si-doing correctly. It was awful. Having to hold a girl's hand and walk them around a circle when you're 8 years old? Fucked up shit. Worse than the Presidential Fitness Challenge.
Middle School was even worse. As I said earlier, puberty is starting to kick in. The teachers tell everyone to partner up for some promenading yet you don't know who to ask because what if they find out that you like them or something else trivial that adolescents think about. YOUR LIFE COULD BE OVER!!! You worry that once you do find a partner, what happens if the touch of her hand sparks an outrageous showing of BONERAMA? It's absolutely horrible. Do you remember how awkward you were at 13? Did you really need the school to make you dance with the opposite sex? Ahhhhh!!! Jesus Christ, just give me a ball to throw at that dork's nuts already. The stress is too much. And for what exactly? To learn a dance that isn't practical or useful at all and is only done by idiots at Henry County weddings (not mine though)?
Pisses me right off. Someone shed some light on this if you know the answer. But I already know the answer...square dancing fucking blows and it is only mandated by the schools to make awkward kids even more awkward. Job well done, assholes. Dammit, who wants to play some Omniball.