The Vice Principal Story and My Father — Look Out

Vice Principal of Junior High and My father Good evening friends.  So tonight by the populous vote I am going to share the story of my late fatheand my Vice Principal of Junior High School in 1982 when I was 12 years old.

As i have mentioned many times, school and education was not my thing.  I also have mentioned that my father had a different grading system for school than school did.  If you got an “F” you are were “Funny” — When you got a “D” it stood for “Dandy” — When you got a “C” it stood for “Courageous” —  If you got a “B” you were a “Bastard” — and if you got an “A” you were an “_sshole”

Now I know that sounds crazy, but that was his grading system and that’s all we gave a _hit about. Nonetheless this was obviously a contradiction to the Junior high’s grading system.  I have mentioned many times I was not a good student throughout grade school, meaning all grade schools.  The funny thing is though, I was not a trouble maker, I was a nice kid who did poorly in school.

And yes, The Vice Principal and my fatherwhen I was 11, 12 and 13 I would run through the hallways squeezing girl’s boobies.  Come on, cut a kid a break, there are worse things a kid could do.  Anyway I had many run ins with the Dean and Vice Principal of Junior High School, not so much for the boobies phase, but more cause i was never in classes, was learning nothing,  and was the most hyper person on all of long island.

So the Vice principal calls me in one day to his office which was like the the tenth time at this point.  I said to him; “What did i do now?”  He said to me; “Its not what you did, it’s what you don’t do or won’t do. What am i going to do with you?”  I said to him; “As long as I’m Not hurting anyone or disturbing classes while  they are going on, does it really matter?”  This is when it got ugly. The Vice Principal was an ex Physical Education teacher, I think that is the case for a lot of them around the country to be honest.  Nonetheless, he was 6 feet 4 inches, ripped like a brick wall and about 50 years old.  So he responded to my rhetorical question with a question; “Are you being a wise guy with me?”  I said; “No, I’m not, I’m being serious, I’m not bothering anyone, so I really don’t see a problem here”

Friends I don’t know if you ever saw the movie Scanners from 30 years ago about the guy who’s head spins around when he gets mad, but this was the scene that I found myself in.  He grabbed my shirt or sweatshirt from each side with each hand, slammed me against the wall.  Now again, this guy was 6 feet tall and 4 inches.  I was 4 feet and 11 inches and looked that guy “Tattoo” from the show “Fantasy Island”  back in the late 1970’s, early 1980’s.  Anyway the vice principal did not take it further than that and I eventually left unharmed.

When I got home my father realized I looked white as a ghost.  He asked me what happened at school today ?  I said; “Nothing really, I just had a tough day”  — He then asked me again which meant, “spill the beans or pay the price”

So I told him what happened.  The next morning which happen to fall on a Wednesday he drove me to school.  He parked the car and walked me into school.  I said; ‘ Thanks for the ride dad, I will see you later”  — He said; “Take me the Vice Principal’s Office, I want to talk to him”  — This was a lose lose for me at this point.  So I took him the Vice Principal’s Office and the secretary immediately got up from her desk and said; “he is busy on a conference call.”  — My father completely ignored her and grabbed me by the arm and pulled me directly into his office.

The Vice Principal was on the phone and kind of smiled and waved us off as if he will be with us in 5 minutes or so.  While he continued to talk on the phone my father grabbed one of the two chairs on the other side of the desk that visitors would normally sit in, and he placed one of them under the doorknob so nobody can re-enter the room including his secretary.

Next thing you know the Vice Principal looked up from the phone call he was on in complete shock.  He said to the person on the other end of the phone; “I’m going to have to call you back”  — He said to my father; “Is there a reason you locked us inside this room?”

So he grabbed my arm dragging me right in from of his desk and threw me into the other chair that was still there from the one he locked the door with and said to the Vice Principal; ” I want you to slam my kid against the wall like you did yesterday.”  — The Vice Principal said, ” look, it was just a little altercation and everything is OK now” — My father said, “It not OK with me” — My father then proceeded from the visiting side of his desk to grab him from the tie on the other side of the desk, and pulled him onto our side right over the desk.

Friends at this point, I honestly thought the SWAT team was going to come slamming through the windows and kill both of us.  Once my father had him on our side of his desk, he said:” I am going to ask you to grab him like you did yesterday for the last time. If you don’t, I am going to slam my own kid up against the wall as if you did it and take it out on you anyway”  — The Vice Principal was about have a heart attack.  So he apologized profusely over and over again.  My father said; “Apology Not accepted, and Scott will be out of school today which was a Wednesday, plus Thursday and Friday,  and I don’t want to hear any shit either”   — The VP was like; ‘No problem Mr. Smith, its always a good thing to take time off and relax.”  My father was so pissed, he said; “Who said anything about relaxing, my company has back to back softball games in Central Park against competing real estate companies and we want Scott to place for us.”

Friends the Vice Principal was looking around like as if he were inside a nightmare and could not wake up, or if he was now actually living in the “Twilight Zone”  —  Needless to say, he never bothered me again and I continued a string of grades called “Dandy’s”

So friends, that is the story of my father and my Vice Principal in Junior High.  Over the next two weeks I will share the story of my father and his girlfriend while he was at college in Alabama, and then I will share the story of when he caught me smoking Pot in 1983. #NightmareOnSmithStreet.

Signing off from Puerto Rico on Day 195, Scott Smith for Sammy & Family.

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