Well, I’ll be going back to school here in about two weeks or so.

Tuesday, August 21, 2001

Well, I’ll be going back to school here in about two weeks or so. But this time it’s not just school. You see, this will be my first year of high school, my freshman year. My class, 2005, will be the low of the school. That’s all a bunch of mush though, right? I mean the wedgies can’t be too bad, can they?

Anyway, I don’t want to look to the future quite yet. Right now I’ll talk about this past summer. Now that high school (help!) will be starting in 14 days, that means summer will be over. That’s kind of sad, for me, because I’ll miss all the things that I’ve done over the break.

All right, it’s kind of like this: We all know, whether you have already graduated or are still a student, that the last bell of the last day of school is the best feeling. Ever. &uot;No more homework, no more reading. Who am I kidding, no more school!&uot; For twelve weeks, that is. The best twelve weeks of the year. During this time that some might like to call &uot;summer vacation,&uot; you lie around, watch soaps in daytime, and stay up past your usual bedtime of 7:30 p.m., just so that you can see the late-night talk shows.

My vacation has kind of been that way. This summer has been filled with countless hours of basketball, hanging out with friends, and watching the Late Show with David Letterman. I’ll miss those things in 14 days, when there are no more 8:30 sunsets, no more nights of lounging, and no more all-day basketball. Instead, life will be filled with 8:30 deadlines, nights of homework, and basketball practice. The basketball thing there isn’t bad at all, it’s the other things that get me.

The good thing about it all is that I will get to see my friends everyday, and also I’ll get my brain back in for the yearly check-up. Everything is going to be so different when it comes to high school. For example, instead of nine periods at Southwest Junior High, there will only be 4 classes in a day at ALHS. Weird.

Way back in the olden days when I was in eighth grade, a man came to our geography class to tell us about high school classes. He gave us a whole 10-12-page newspaper-size book full of possible choices for electives. While I was thumbing through my encyclopedia of electives, I raised my hand and said, &uot;Slow down here mister, I don’t see recess in here anywhere. And what about milk break, huh, whatever happened to that?&uot; The man informed me that there would be no more recess or milk break. So I ended up signing up for classes that were listed under the name, Pre-Med, Rocket Scientism, and C.A.D. I don’t even know those names, let alone am I able to study them. I think if a person can’t pronounce the name of the course, they shouldn’t have to take it, because you know it will be filled with even bigger words. I guess that’s okay; I’ve always wanted to be a Premed-Donna, a Sock Scientist, or even a person in the position where he Could at Anytime Depart.

To tell you the truth, after all this good and positive talk about high school, I’m still shivering in my Adidas shoes. You know what that means; we need more, more, and even more of this talk, up till the day of reckoning. Until the first day of school, when I am standing in front of a huge, bronze statue of a tiger, with my underwear pulled over my head, asking him for guidance. That is when I’ll know that there is no more need for positive talk, and school has started. That day will be here as fast as, well, you know what two weeks feels like.

Well, it’s been nice venting and writing to you for the past two weeks. That’s all folks, this has been the life and times of M. Behrends.

Mike Behrends is a rural Albert Lea resident. David Behling, the regular author of Notes from Home, returns next Tuesday.