26 January, 1998 PARIS
He was one of those "cool cats" and he could often be seen strutting down the sidewalk and on the school grounds with his twin brother - wearing leather jackets and occasionally combing their slicked-back hair. They'd also sing hit tunes and make wise-cracks, and say things like: "Daddy-O."
Mr. B was a teenager in the late Fifties - a child of the "Doo-Wop" era. I used to look up to them, and they'd let me hang around. I wanted to be a "cool cat", too!
Sometimes I'd push it and try to join in on the cool conversation, and Mr. B would keep me in my place by saying: "Boy, why don't you WISE UP?"
Or sometimes he's say: "Boy, you WISE!" (I never figured out if that was good or bad - to be wise. I mean.)
We all listened to the hip radio station WEAM, and sometimes they'd play a song called Charlie Brown, by the Coasters - my favorite group.
"Who walks in the classroom - cool and slow?
who calls the English teacher Daddy-O?
It's Charlie Brown...
He's gonna get caught; just you wait and see!
Why'z evabody always pickin' on me??"
For me, that song was written about Mr. B.!
One day Mr. B. came up to me and asked: "Boy you wanna learn to ride a bike?"
"You BET!" I replied eagerly. I didn't have a bike, and didn't know how, and so I'd watch sadly as all the other boys rode around the outside basketball court on their slick two-wheelers.
"OK, Daddy-O," he says, "Just hang around here and we'll meet up after class."
After class was over, I was there sure as you're born. Out came the older boys - Mr. B the leader of the pack.
"It's now or never!" he said, quoting another hit song. Everybody had a bike, so ther were lots of them around. It didn't take me very long to borrow one.
Soon a girl I knew and a buddy of mine came up, and between the three of them got me safely onto the seat of the bike. First they walked me round and round the basketball court (I don't have many memories of anybody actually playing BASKETBALL there!) Occasionally, while I was concentrating on where I was going, they'd let the bike go for a little bit, so I could learn to pedal and keep my balance. They were my training wheels!
After I felt comfortable and had gone a short distance successfully, it was time for my first solo run! They pushed me faster and faster - and then they let go, running beside me for a distance. Then they dropped back; I was on my own!
I continued straight and true, eventually running off the basketcall court, where I lost my balance, teetered, then fell down softly onto the grassy slope which led to the baseball field.
The next trial run was more successful: I gathered speed as before, continuing down the same route as before, and rode upright down the slope... still pedaling, and still upright. The initial momentum was gone, and I was definitely moving on my own power and guidance.
I was so proud of myself!! I was quite the celebrity that day at school, and my schoolmates and school staff alike all cheered me onward - as they realized this was my first solo run on a bicycle.
Things were going just fine after that... until I saw a group of people ahead of me, having a picnic. Their goodies were spread over a checkered blanket, and their eyes grew wide with fear as they saw me heading straight for them!
"Get out of the way!" I shouted nervously, "I can't steer!" and with that I careened into the picnic area, sending hapless teachers and kids into a panic run! I was like Dumbo without his magic feather.
After that, I straightened out and realized I could control this bicycle, and I rode past the flagpole to the other end of the school ground, where I triumphantly concluded a successful run - relatively speaking.
After that I rode as if I was born to ride a bike. It was a milestone in my life - a sort of right of passage. It was one of the happiest events of a very happy year: 1960.
"You BET!" I replied eagerly. I didn't have a bike, and didn't know how, and so I'd watch sadly as all the other boys rode around the outside basketball court on their slick two-wheelers.
"OK, Daddy-O," he says, "Just hang around here and we'll meet up after class."
After class was over, I was there sure as you're born. Out came the older boys - Mr. B the leader of the pack.
"It's now or never!" he said, quoting another hit song. Everybody had a bike, so ther were lots of them around. It didn't take me very long to borrow one.
Soon a girl I knew and a buddy of mine came up, and between the three of them got me safely onto the seat of the bike. First they walked me round and round the basketball court (I don't have many memories of anybody actually playing BASKETBALL there!) Occasionally, while I was concentrating on where I was going, they'd let the bike go for a little bit, so I could learn to pedal and keep my balance. They were my training wheels!
After I felt comfortable and had gone a short distance successfully, it was time for my first solo run! They pushed me faster and faster - and then they let go, running beside me for a distance. Then they dropped back; I was on my own!
I continued straight and true, eventually running off the basketcall court, where I lost my balance, teetered, then fell down softly onto the grassy slope which led to the baseball field.
The next trial run was more successful: I gathered speed as before, continuing down the same route as before, and rode upright down the slope... still pedaling, and still upright. The initial momentum was gone, and I was definitely moving on my own power and guidance.
I was so proud of myself!! I was quite the celebrity that day at school, and my schoolmates and school staff alike all cheered me onward - as they realized this was my first solo run on a bicycle.
Things were going just fine after that... until I saw a group of people ahead of me, having a picnic. Their goodies were spread over a checkered blanket, and their eyes grew wide with fear as they saw me heading straight for them!
"Get out of the way!" I shouted nervously, "I can't steer!" and with that I careened into the picnic area, sending hapless teachers and kids into a panic run! I was like Dumbo without his magic feather.
After that, I straightened out and realized I could control this bicycle, and I rode past the flagpole to the other end of the school ground, where I triumphantly concluded a successful run - relatively speaking.
After that I rode as if I was born to ride a bike. It was a milestone in my life - a sort of right of passage. It was one of the happiest events of a very happy year: 1960.
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