Hated It

Yesterday was the last day of school.  I have clear memories of what my thoughts were on the last day of school: I can't believe I have to go to summer school-again. 

I hated my high school.  Hated it.  When the last period bell rang at 2:30, you could have had Lance Armstrong on a bike, a NASCAR champion in a car, and Usain Bolt in his sneakers and I would have beaten them all in a race from the classroom to the F train back to Brooklyn.  I was so fast, the sound of the last period bell merged with the F train "watch the closing doors" announcement with me easily sitting on the train.  I would leave with such a tremendous burst, Rickey Henderson studied tapes of me to learn how to get a jump from first base.

I hated traveling from Brooklyn to Manhattan.  I hated wearing a goofy blazer like I a fourteen-year-old business man.   And to have to do it in the summer-that blew....