Fifth Grade Elections (The Videos)

I knew they were out there somewhere. Here are the speeches from that hard fought campaign.

Christmas begins tonight

For some people, the Christmas season begins then they light the tree in Rockefeller Center. For some, it’s Black Friday or the first time they run “It’s A Wonderful Life.”
For me, Christmas begins at 11:35pm tonight. It’s when Darlene Love sings “Christmas Baby (Please Come Home) “on Late Show with David Letterman. Paul Schaeffer will tell the story or Cher singing “O Holy Night” on her Christmas special. Jay Thomas will tell his story about driving the Lone Ranger around and then he’ll knock a meatball off the Late Show Christmas tree with a football. Finally Darlene Love will come out and “blow the roof of the dump.” At the end of the song they’ll make it snow a little bit and my eyes will fill up like they are doing right now.
I know this because they do it every year as long as I can remember with the exception of last year due to the writer’s strike. But it’s back this year. This is my Christmas. My Christmas touchstone.

Fifth Grade Elections (Part 4)

The final chapter of my first foray into public service.

Part IV

We read our speeches at Friday’s assembly.  Timmy had trouble with some of the bigger words in his speech.  I read mine.  I did ok, not great.  Kerri was coached to make eye contact as she read her speech copy.  So she did it.  At the end of every sentence, she looked up at the audience.  It made her three minute presentation last eight minutes.  That afternoon as the votes are being tabulated I couldn’t think about anything else.  I asked to be excused to the bathroom, figuring that would kill some time.  On the way downstairs I passed the principal on his way up the stairs.  I wish I could remember his name now because it would add some more realism but it escapes me.  I do remember that he was this huge, slow moving, oak tree of a man.  He’s certainly dead now.  How’s that for realism.

“Have the votes been counted?” I asked him.

“Yes.” He replied.

“Are those the results in your hand?” I queried.

“Yes.” He responded.

The look I was going for

It is this moment without being told, I knew I lost.  I can’t say I picked up something from the way the principal said the word “yes.”  He gave no emotion.  In fact, I come to realize that he probably didn’t know that it was me.  I was just some other jackass kid in an ill fitting brown corduroy sport coat.  The kind that has patches on the elbows as if I was some nine year old, pipe smoking college professor.  I just knew I had lost.  Why not go back to the room to hear the results read unless you already know the answer?  I killed two minutes in the boy’s room on the third floor smoking a candy cigarette and headed back.

When I walked into the classroom was I was greeted with handshakes and pats on the back.  Nothing feels better when you’re down on yourself for losing an election, like pats on the back loaded with pity.  Tim was at my desk waiting to shake hands.  I declined.  I was a sore loser.  I regret that.  In that moment I handed over to him what he had been unable to take from me in all the years of bullying.  My honor.

A few years ago I read that Mr. Timothy Benitez was arrested on Staten Island.  During a little breaking and entering Mr. Benitez dropped his wallet in the house and left without it.  Stupid ass.

Forget what I said.  I have my honor.

The Coolest Hand

January 26, 1925 - September 26, 2008

Fifth Grade Elections (Part 3)

Here’s part three.  If you haven’t, do yourself a favorite and read the other two first.

Part III

I ran on a progressive platform of more gym classes, more art, and a computer in every classroom.  Around this time Apple Computers released their first home computer.  A year earlier, Apple ran the

My original campaign ad

famous “1984″ commercial during the Superbowl.  This is still the most famous commercial ever aired.  Apple aggressively donated computers to school systems requesting them and I thought that would be good for our school.  Ms. Mims and the other teachers involved thought it would be better if I didn’t include this.  Every time my speech was reviewed they suggested I remove the computer pledge.  They believed computer talk would bore my fellow students.  I thought it would capture their imaginations in a way that Timmy’s pledge of “hot pretzels in the cafeteria” never could.  This loser actually promised pretzels.  And it was widely speculated at the time that his speech was written by his older sister.  This girl was the spitting image of Timmy, just with long hair.  This was not an attractive girl.  Early polling showed a very tight race.  My decision to choose Yvette worked well.  She took votes from Kerri, Phil drove voters away from Kerri equally.  I was able to hold my own against Timmy in the early polls.

Until the October Surprise.

An October surprise is political jargon describing a news event with the potential to influence the outcome of an election, particularly one for the presidency.  In 1972 with less than a month remaining until the election between Nixon and McGovern, Nixon’s Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger,

Best Roctober Surprise evah, LOL!!!

announced that “peace was at hand” in Vietnam.  In 1980 charges were leveled against Ronald Reagan suggesting that a secret deal was negotiated to release our Iranian hostages only after the election, thereby ensuring Jimmy Carters defeat.  An interest side note- the hostages were released during Reagan’s inauguration, further fueling the allegations.  Gore v. Bush?  Bush’s drunk driving.  Bush v. Kerry?  A huge cache of weapons are found in Iraq.  1985, Decker v. Benitez for president of the student body at P.S. 1?  Oh yeah, Jeffery Cohen finds a wallet outside the school office and returns it.  They announce it over the school public address system.  The principal shakes his hand on stage at an assembly program.  He gets his name in the paper.  They give him the key to the friggin’ cafeteria.  I’m sunk.

Fifth Grade Elections (Part 2)

This is part two.  If you haven’t read part one, go back right now and read or else this won’t make much sense.  You’ll still love it.  You just won’t know why.

Part II

I saw her breasts once.  Well, one of them anyway.  Part of one and a hint of nipple.  It was a stolen glance as

Old Teachers Gone Wild

she leaned over her desk.  She must have known.  I was eleven and had no game with the fairer sex.  Ms. Mimms wore boots that extended part way up her calf.  I couldn’t tell you how far up her leg they went because she also wore long flowing dresses and skirts.  Very different from the blue hairs wearing polyester skirts and sans-a-belt slacks.  She was one of those women that always had her head cocked to one side and then would swing it around to the other side to put punctuate her points.  When she stood, her torso sat way back on her hips.  Her arms swung around like they were attached at the shoulder but wholly independent from her body.  She was all affectation and a low smoky voice.  In my fifth grade mind, she must have been from California, Orange County maybe.  It was all very west coast.

It was determined somehow, popularity perhaps, that Tim, Kerri and I would run for president and we should select our running mate from the left over three.  Tim picked Jeff.  Perhaps for the financial backing.  It was my turn to pick from Yvette or Phil.  Yvette, the hottie and Phil, my best friend.  This decision was not as easy as it might have seemed.  You see, if I went with Phil, then Kerri and Yvette would end up on the same ticket and run away with the women’s vote, leaving Phil and I to split the boy’s vote with the bully and Jeff.  If I went with Yvette at least there was a chance I could steal some the girl vote and maybe the We’ve Been Bullied by Tim Benitez Too special interest group.  Kerri pleaded with me to let her have Yvette.

“Phil is your best friend” she told me.  “Yvette is my friend.  We both have vaginas.  It’s Kismet.”   I worried about hurting Phil’s feeling by not picking him but in the end there was only one choice for me if I was serious about winning this thing.  Get the votes and then make it up to Phil later by giving him a bogus ambassadorship to the junior high school across the street.  This is politics.  I can’t be worrying about hurt feelings.  Someone has to make the tough decisions.  I’m the decider.

Less than 24 hours into this thing and Tim’s campaign went negative.  I believe the first decision those bastards made was to make an issue out of my name and haircut.  Ghostbusters was the popular new movie at the time and one the first day of campaigning these clowns came into school armed with “Ross Busters” posters.  This was all the design of Joey Bodner and Bobby Dennis.  A devastating combination of James Carville and Karl Rove, just none of the book smarts.  Bobby Dennis once told me on an occasion his father became so enraged at the family dog crapping on the new rug that he kicked it until it was dead.  Bobby seemed to be moved by this but not enough to hold the mirror up to himself and see the thinly veiled image of his own father.

Mr. Principal, tear down this time-out wall.

I didn’t have a problem with the posters.  I saw Ronald Reagan shred Fritz Mondale the previous year.  Elections are not the sport of gentleman.  Truth be told, I was very prepared to go after Timmy’s speech impediment, Kerri’s “girlie-ness” and if pushed, Jeffery Cohen’s religious background.  It never came to that though.  Ms. Mimms stepped in right away and declared that this would only be a positive campaign.  No one would make reference to another candidate in any manner.  I believe this benefited me in that it removed a great deal of the bully aspect.  I could compete on this level playing field.  Don’t get me wrong, I bullied.  Kerri had organizers give out bookmarks with her campaign platform printed on them.  I had volunteers collect the bookmarks in exchange for Jolly Ranchers and Now & Laters.  I gave the bookmarks back to Kerri immediately following recess.  She didn’t take it well.  Her father came to my house after dinner that night.  A makeshift truce was brokered.

the finger of god

There’s nothing to say.  This is the most amazing piece of film ever.  Listen for when Jamie Gertz asks, “Is there an F5?”  Someone drops a fork just so you know this was the most inappropriate question for that time ever.  She could not have screwed this up more.  As a sweet Lisa Loeb track plays quietly in the background.

I looked for this clip for a very long time.

i heart the gay blades

Last week Catherine and I went to Irving Plaza to visit our friends The Gay Blades and see their show.  If you don’t know the Blades, or the Gays as Catherine calls them, don’t worry, you will.  Their debut album Ghosts comes out September 23rd.  They will blow up shortly after that.

I’m going to give you the punchline of this story right up front.  Watch this video.  Catherine is the girl with black hair at the end of the video.  She is not the female voice heard singing off key.  Can you find her?

A few nights ago The Gay Blades posted a blog on their MySpace reminding their loyal following that the album was coming out in two weeks.  They also posted the video you just watched, Clark likes to come into the audience during their song Dog Day Afternoon just to make sure everyone is listening.  This particular night someone was yelling “Play louder” during the quiet opening.  Clark had enough and in an instant was in the thick of the standing room only space.

I watched the video and had a laugh remembering Clark singling out our friend and pushing him around even though he was an innocent party.  The next day I showed Catherine the video and remarked that you could almost see me in the video for a split second and that because of this I had achieved a certain level of fame.  This fame, in turn, would make me impossible to live with.  She just stared at me blankly.

“You’re kidding, right?” she asked.

“Uh, yes” I replied.

“You realize that you can actually see me in the video?” she queried.

“Really?  I hadn’t noticed” was my weak response.  As an aside to you gentlemen out there, “Really?  I hadn’t noticed” never works. I’d prefer you not to use it.

“You just ran the stop sign and ran over that blind man’s dog.”

“Really?  I hadn’t noticed.”  You’re getting cuffs put on you.

“My whole face and two thirds of my body are visible.  You thought you could see yourself for a split second but didn’t notice me,” she pleaded.

So, I didn’t notice my wife of 8 years in a 53 second video where she was really the only one you can clearly see.  I’m getting the cuffs put on and right now, Catherine does not heart me.

TGB4N

Fifth Grade Elections (Part 1)

This story ran on my MySpace blog last year but since it is timely and because I’ve moved everything to this new location, I though a rerun was appropriate.  If you’ve already read this, I’m sorry.  Why don’t you go cry in a big pillow.

The names in the following story have been left intact.  Everything I write here is truthful and completely accurate so I figure, Screw it.  Come get me.  The only thing I made up is when I wrote that Kerri Alwiess said “vagina.”  That’s made up.  Don’t look for it now.  It will make more sense when you get to it later.

I used to have political aspirations.  I’ve grown weary of all politicians lately to the extent that Osama Bin Ladin’s recent video makes some very compelling points.  In a previous blog I referenced changing my political affiliation following Katrina.  If our two political parties were actually “parties,” I’d go home.  When I was a young boy, I considered political office.  At that point, any skeletons in my closet were little skeletons.  It wasn’t like I was in the little boy’s room, tapping out Morse Code in the bathroom stall.  (I like when people refer to it as “Morris Code.”)

Leaders begin here

Midway through the fifth grade, it was announced that an election would be held to fill the offices of Student Body President and Vice President.  This was the first time in P.S. 1’s hundred year history that such an election would take place.  Apparently in the previous 100 years, the opinions of an eleven year old were not needed.  This was my chance.  I could wield some real power.  I had been bullied in that school by teachers and actual bullies for four years.  Sh*t was gonna change.

Out of the two fifth grade classes, five other kids expressed interest in throwing their little hats into the ring, the political arena.  Timothy Benitez, the head bully, Jeffery Cohen, token Jew (Don’t blame me.  This was Tottenville, Staten Island circa 1985, we could count Jewish families with one hand with fingers left over to count blacks), Phil Manno, my best friend, Yvette Nixon, the hottie, Kerri Alweiss, another good friend and finally, me.  Back in 1985 my school was doing some really revolutionary things in learning, like separating the smart kids from the, let’s just say, less smart kids.  Phil was in the slower class as was Jeffery Cohen (We never had a Jew before.  We didn’t know where to put him.  Again, not my fault.)  Tim Benitez was in the smart kid class.  The only way this could be explained was that he was sleeping with whoever divided the classes or he had bullied his way in.  I’ll choose to believe the latter.

This is how I remember Ms. Mims

This whole crazy attempt at democracy in action was to be headed up by one teacher.  A first year teacher named Ms. Mims.  She clearly had experience as a teacher but this was her first year at P.S. 1.  Without getting into too much back story, P.S. 1 was the southernmost elementary school in the state of New York.  That made us the hicks.  The teachers were all old ladies that had been there forever.  When I say “forever”, I mean “forever.”  My fourth grade teacher was my father’s fifth grade teacher.  No bull.  Which begs the question, “How bad to you have to screw up to get demoted a grade in the course of twenty years?)    Ms. Mims was different from any teacher I had seen up to that point.  Different from most of the women I had seen up to that point.  The name alone was magical.  Ms. Mims.  I never met a woman that went by “Ms.” It was all very mysterious. Was she or wasn’t she married.  She didn’t want us to know.  Why else do you go with the “Ms.”?  To me the “Ms.” spoke volumes.  It said, “I might be married or I might let you touch my breasts when we’re alone in the rexograph room.”  I was torn.

St. Pauli Girl

VPILF

Tonight we get to find out if John McCain’s gamble with this particular skirt is worth it.  We’ve had five days of every republican with a microphone going on and on about what a great choice this woman is.  Tonight we find out if she can read from a Teleprompter.  My intention is not to be rude or sexist but from my perspective, this choice was made solely on genitalia first and hotness second.  Actual experience appears a very distant third.  Despite the hype, I am certain there were better choices even if putting a woman on the ticket was mandated by McCain.  I think the republican calling this a wonderful choice are being intellectually dishonest and they believe in their hearts, “He’s made a huge mistake.”

I looked forward to hearing what the self proclaimed “hockey mom from Alaska” had to say until it was reported that McCain’s speech writers had to completely rewrite her speech as it was originally written weeks ago for a generic male candidate.  I like to see behind the curtain as much as the next guy but this makes me think she has very little control of the image that is being presented to the American public.  I imagine Joe Biden had plenty of input into his speech.  I don’t believe Sarah Palin is afforded the same.

Pregnant children, baby switches, nasty divorces, oil scandals, federal investigations.  Who vetted this woman?  The Obama campaign?  If the last five days provide any foreshadowing, the next 60 days should be a lot of fun.