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Dan Lauria (Àè-ÄɺóÀÇ ¾Æºü æµ)

 

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¿µ¹®/½ÌÅ© : iamy1004 (iamy1004@hanmail.net)
¹ø¿ª : ¾È³ª (anna6860@hotmail.com)

 

I remember it as clearly as if it were last night.

It was the first day of school - I was late.

I found the class and went in.

 

I began to panic. Maybe I'd come on the wrong day...maybe I'd come to the wrong place!

Every time I would open the door, there was another hallway.

I couldn't find the teachers - I couldn't find the students.

And that's when it hit me.
This was high school.

And I...was completely and utterly...

Alone.

ÄɺóÀº 12»ì
"With A Little Help From My Fridens"

 

Fred Savage (ÄÉºó æµ)

 

Dan Lauria (Àè-ÄɺóÀÇ ¾Æºü æµ)

 

Alley Mills (³ë¸¶-ÄɺóÀÇ ¾ö¸¶ æµ)

Olivia d'abo (ij·±-ÄɺóÀÇ ´©³ª æµ)

Jason Hervey (¿þÀÎ-ÄɺóÀÇ Çü æµ)

Danica Mckellar (À§´Ï æµ)

Josh Saviano (Æú æµ)

 

"Eight Miles High" - The Byrds

 

Nineteen-seventy-one.
It was a crazy time.

People were on the move...looking for answers...breaking new ground.

Seemed like everyone was searching for a new identity.

 

Me, I was breakin' some ground of my own.

That September I entered William McKinley senior high.

I was looking forward to a new adventure.

My only hope was they'd have something besides Jell-O for lunch.

Everything was different.
Mini's had become micro's.

"Hippies" had turned into "heads".
And some of us were on the road to political awareness.

Kinda.

 

But those weren't the only changes.

My best friend Paul Pfeiffer was off to prep school. Which left me...

 

Completely on my own.

Yeah! This wasn't gonna be bad at all...

Kevin Arnold?! Stuart Carpazian.
Remember me?

We both had Miss Serita for fourth grade.

Oh, hi, Stuart.

Wow, it's good to see ya! You're probably wondering what happened to me.

See, my dad got a job in Tucson when I was in fifth grade...so we moved.

But, I'm back now! Jujubee?

- No, thanks.
- So, how's your mom?

Hey, remember when she chaperoned our field-trip to the zoo...

and the elephants are doing it?

Jeez, was this kid blind?

Couldn't he see what was happening here?

Remember that time you came down with the Hong Kong flu?

Here she came.
- It was right after lunch.

Fishsticks and peas, and ya threw up all over your desk.

 

Stuart!

Well, I gotta go to class now.

It's been nice talking to you.
Seeya later!

Oh, well, one thing about a big public high school...

 

With any luck, Stuart Carpazian would be lost in the system.

Hey, would you look at this?
Talk about luck.

Hey, you know what I was thinking about?

That time we were playing basketball, you ran into the pole and knocked a hole in your head.

Stuart, class is gonna start, OK?
We'll talk later.

Oh, sure, sure.

Not to be obnoxious or anything, but this was no time to be reliving old memories.

This...was high school.

The big leagues.

Education in the fast lane.

 

Once we got rolling.

Buenos dias. My name is Mr. Bottner. This...is U.S. Government.

OK, finally!

So! Here are the rules...

Roman numeral "I" - Rules.

Numero uno. Bottner's Law.

At eight-twenty-five the doors are locked - no one gets in...

No one gets out. Numero dos.

Due to an inner ear injury sustained at the...Pusan...beach-head...

We shall all refrain from making any sudden...noises in the two-thousand kilocycle range. That means...

Do not...

I repeat, do not...rip the paper from spiral notebooks.

Comprende?

Hmmmm....

Now!

Can anyone tell me the name of this country's "living document"?

Anyone?...no one?

"Grubner"!

Um...ah...

Good job.

Callio!

Ah...I'm not sure.

Huh. Perfect.

Carpazon.

Uh...that's "Carpazian", sir.

What did you say?

Uh, it's...not important.

The answer to the question...is the...Con-sti-tu-tion.

And speaking of the Constitution...

This might be a good time to tell you about meeting the thirty-ninth vice-president of the United States.

Spiro T. Agnew.

I was one of only nine-hundred teachers...

Selected to have lunch at the White House.

The real White House.

And there you had it. It was pretty obvious the man who was teaching us all about freedom...

Was nothing but a petty dictator.

And that's when we realized - for the next five months, we'd be held hostage...

While this guy strutted and preened, and perpetrated his little power-plays.

And told, and retold, his crowning life-achievement...

Meeting Spiro T. Agnew.

And, then! During dessert...

Which included a generous portion of cherries jubilee...

The vice-president himself...

Came over to my table.

Shook...my hand.

And do you know what he said? Huh?

Of course, we didn't.

But still, it seemed some sort of response was called for here.

"I can't believe I ate the whole thing"?

 

...Huh.

 

...I see.

 

And maybe right then I should have known...

I...was a dead man.

 

That's it, amigos.

Still, by the end of class, I'd come up with a plan.

I figured I'd talk to the guy.
Explain myself.

Offer the old olive branch.

Mr. Bottner?

About your story about Vice-president Agnew...sorry I ruined it.

So...?

So...I'll seeya tomorrow?

You bet!

And that was that - piece of cake. Right?

Wrong!

 

if we catch you walking on the seal, you get...the "boosh"!

- The royal flush.
- The "boosh"!

Not that I knew what that was.

Still, the terminology seemed pretty self-explanatory.

Thanks for lettin' me know.

You're my brother, I care about ya.

 

Finally, something familiar - lunch.

The trick was to desperately look for someone to sit with,

without anyone ever knowing you were desperate.

And that's when I saw her.

Winnie - an oasis in sea of strangers.
"Winnie's Theme"

She looked so alone, I thought I'd go over and do the best I could to console her.

Hi, Winnie!

Mind if we sit with you?

Me, and half the varsity football team.

 

Come on, Kevin, you can squeeze in!

Uh, no thanks.

See, I'm, I'm just gonna...walk around for awhile, and...build up an appetite. OK?

Hey, I mean, I didn't need charity.

I could manage on my own.

There were plenty of folks I could sit with.
Good folks. Honest folks.

Folks like, say -

Hey, Kev! Pretty neat cafeteria, huh?

Stuart.

Remember that time you got that pencil stuck up in your nose?

I always had Stuart.

 

One French class, one biology lab, and three major social gaffs later, I was just about ready to call it a day.

 

On the other hand...

Alright, mes amigos. This is "study hall".

What you do in here is study - you don't talk...

You don't doodle...
You keep your faces in your books.

Comprende?

So, here are Bottner's Rules.
Numero uno.

Oh, man.

Oops.

Arnold. You have something to say?

No, I-I...

Oh, come on. Share it with the class.

I'm sure it's pretty amusing - you being such a...funny guy.

Come on, Arnold...

Don't you think you're funny?

No. Not really...

Oh, sure you are...you're a regular Jose Jimenez.

I'm sure the rest of the class wouldn't mind...waiting...even if we have to stay after school to listen to your joke.

I'm sure it'll be worth it.

And as Bottner turned an entire class of tenth-graders against me, I realized something.

My nightmare had come true - it was the first day of high school, and I was...completely, and utterly...alone.

Pathetic...fair...adequate...putrid...

Arnold! You're gonna have to do yours over.

Passable...marginal...

Wait a minute, wait a minute.

You have a comment?

Yeah. Why do I have to do mine over again?

I'm glad you asked me that question.

I can't read your writing.
Your margins are off.

And you didn't put the date in the top righthand corner. Bottner's Rules.

But I spent all night on this report.

Now that's funny.

My ego was taking a beating.

So, there was only one thing to do.

 

Beat the pants off my best friend at basketball.

- Three - zip. Your ball.
- I can count, Paul.

Ungrateful dork!

- Hey, what's buggin' you?
- Nothing.

Let's play!

No way I was gonna to let this bozo know I needed help.

I was gonna keep my emotions to myself.

That sweatshirt makes you look like a geek.

Yep, better I should just insult the guy.

- Four - zip.
- I said I can count, OK?!

OK, OK...

 

No basket. Foul!

- What do you mean, foul?
- You charged.

- I didn't touch you!
- I'm taking it out of bounds.

No way!

Kev. A rule's a rule.

God, Paul - a rule's a rule?
You should hear yourself.

All I hear all day is - rules! Don't walk here, don't...don't be late, your margins are too wide...don't talk, don't think, don't breathe.

- What are you talking about?
- I'm talking about...high school.

Junior high used to be so great, and now...

now we're like that stuff underneath the refrigerator, ya know?

OK, it just slipped out.

The way I saw it, I had a right to expect a little sympathy.

A gesture of support.

I don't know - I kinda like my prep school.

- Really...?
- Really!

 

Five - zip.

 

Friday afternoon.
One week down, six hundred to go.

- Kevin, wait up!
- Oh! Hi, Winnie.

- Where have you been?
- Around...

- I'm sorry about lunch the other day.
- That's OK - no problem.

Are you alright?

Yeah! I just expected this place to be different, you know?

Give it some time...it'll get better!

Trust me! It's gonna be great.

- I'm going this way, so I'll see you later, OK?
- OK.

And ya know, hearing that voice, seeing that smile, for one moment I actually felt a little twinge of...

Oh, Kevie?

Absolute fear.

 

You get - the "boosh".

Hey! Hey!

 

You heard it here. I got - the "boosh".

Hey, Kev, wait up!

I want to know if you're going to the football game tonight.

You know, afterwards, I hear they're gonna toilet-paper Cheryl Manning's house.

Go away, Stuart.

You remember her. You hit her in the head with a tetherball once.

Go away!

Gee, Kev, your hair's all wet.

You know, speaking to you as a friend, you should really -

Look, Stuart, don't you get it?
We're not friends!

Just because you sat behind me in the fourth grade doesn't mean we're friends - we weren't even friends then!

So why don't you get someone else to hang around with, OK?

Cuz I can't take it any more!
You hear me?

 

And so it came down to this.

I had acted like an idiot, blown up at the wrong guy...

And now...

my only hope was that my government teacher was dead.

 

Alright. Here's the deal - I just had to walk five blocks out of my way because some substitute chorale director parked her Pinto in my spot!

Comprende!

On further consideration, though, death didn't seem half good enough.

Therefore, I suggest you open your notebooks, and write me, oh...let's say...

five hundred words on the meaning of property rights, in the U.S. Constitution.

Just for fun.

And no talking.

Especially you, Arnold.

Me?! Look, I never said any -

Ah-ah-ah...I said no talking.

Sorry, buddy. You're on detention.

The whole week.

 

Let's move it, amigos!

And I don't know, maybe it was all that talk about the Constitution.

In any event, at that moment, I'd made up my mind.

It was time for a declaration of independence of my own.

 

Who did that?

It was you Arnold, wasn't it?

But sitting there...Holding that paper, I just didn't care anymore.

If I was alone, fine - I'd go it alone.

 

Only suddenly...

I wasn't.

 

Maybe it was futile, maybe not. It really didn't matter.

For that one moment, we'd found a common voice...

A common bond, against a common enemy.

And, for that one moment, it was a sweet victory.

 

That first week of high school, as I watched our class band together.

I realized something about these strangers I'd just met.

Strangers I hardly knew.
Strangers who were just like me.

We were all sharing the same feelings.

The same fears, the same loneliness.

We were just starting out, and there was only one direction to go.

So we went - together.

ÇϺñ ÀÚ¸· µ¿È£È¸(http://havy.co.kr)
°¨»çÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
Á¦ÀÛ : iamy1004 (iamy1004@hanmail.net)