I’m thinking the greatest poem I ever wrote was when I was in fourth grade. It went precisely like this:
A long time ago, when I was but two,
The only word that I could say was, “Mooooooo.”
My parents for sure thought that I was a cow,
But they changed their minds when I said, “Meow.”
(Remember that, Mom?)
I can’t really tell you why that came to me just now. Could be because we just got a cat, Pumpkin. Could be because I’ve been spending a lot of time at the school lately. Could be that poetry flows constantly through my mind like a Rocky Mountain stream (pretty sure that one’s not right). In any case, that this is my finest work certainly speaks to the fact that I haven’t written much decent poetry in my life.
Last night’s session was brought to you, once again, by the administrative team at Epsom Central School, your principal Mr. Patrick Connors, and your assistant principal Mr. Brian Beaverstock. The two had agreed to stay after the evening’s school board meeting to help out with the rebounding. That meeting began at exactly 6:03 p.m., so by the time 9:40 rolled around and we were still sitting around the board table, I let them know that they were certainly welcome to back out and head home for some sleep.
Not only did they hang around, graciously providing our first human rebounders in over a week, but they absolutely got after it (as we used to say in Newport), greasing the skids (as we used to say in Guild) on the way to 1,500 made foul shots in just a hair over an hour and six minutes. Now I’m no mathematician (although my dad used to be, and The Beautiful Heth’s brother Randy is arguably the best one in the country … no joke), but 1,500 in an hour and six-ish minutes is, as we used to say in Sunapee, wicked freakin’ fast.
(To give you an idea, it took me two minutes longer than that to make 1,000 in the driveway this morning.)
It definitely helps when the ball rarely hits the floor …
Thanks for that, guys. I hope you got some sleep.