It’s been quite a while since I reached into the huge stack of ancient school reports, assignments, “artwork”, etc., that I received from my parents a few years ago when they were cleaning out some rooms in the house, so I thought I would do so now. This time I pulled out a report card “progress report” from thirty-five years ago.
Well that mostly looks pretty good. But let’s take a closer look in the corner.
Somehow I even got a good grade (and an award?!) in Art, even though it’s well known that Jim Can’t Draw; presumably nobody really expects much in the way of artistic ability from an elementary school kid. Well, you know, unless you happen to be the outlandishly talented fifth-grader and Doctor Who fan in my wife’s old classroom who brought in a bobblehead one day and sketched it upon request so that my wife could bring it home and see if I recognized it.

So, yeah, if I got an A- (and an award?!) in Art, this kid (a fifth grader!!!) obviously deserved an A++++++ and a contract to draw comic books.
I somehow also got an A+ there in Music for playing the clarinet, despite my playing’s frequently being compared to a chicken squawking*, and despite the fact that when I would practice at home our dog, Miss Marple, would park herself in front of me and howl until I was finished.

Sadly we did not have YouTube back then, so Missy and I missed our chance to become an Internet sensation of the Epic Music Fail variety. Anyway, most likely, this grade was just for showing up.
And, finally, there we go — a C in Physical Education. Which if I remember correctly, in elementary school, mostly involved dodgeball, kickball, and climbing ropes that hung from the ceiling. And possibly some falling down. I don’t really remember.
BTW, looking at that report card progress report, it occurred to me that I didn’t know who Nicholas A. Walbran was. My guess would have been that he was a Revolutionary War figure (Oriskany was big in the Revolutionary War) but according to the Internet he was a member of the Board of Education, according to this snippet from a 1938 article in the local paper.
I guess that since he got a school named after him, he must have done all right in the position …
* I eventually got put on the bass clarinet, and things worked out better after that.
I’ve thought of posting my kindergarten one. Very funny. Good thing Dennis, Charlie and Chaplin don’t request that you play dodgeball.
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