
"Fool me once, shame on you...if fooled, you can't get fooled again."
--George W. Bush
I may be having memory lapses lately, but there is one thing I don't forget -- a slight. I can be extremely stubborn that way. Some may call it petty, but I call it being persistently vindictive and a firm believer in karma.
Earl from the television show "My Name is Earl" has a list of things he has done to people. I keep a mental list of things people have done to me. I don't dwell on them, but as I said, I don't forget them.
When I was in first grade, my class went to a neighboring class to sing. I was in Mrs. Blair's class. We went to Mrs. Kimbro's class. While we were in there the kid next to kept talking. Mrs. Kimbro was old school and demanded to know who was talking out of turn. Mrs. Blair pointed to the kid next to me. Mrs. Kimbro thought she was pointing at me. She proceeded to whack me in the head. I imagine Mrs. Kimbro is dead by now, but if she isn't she'd better hope I never see her inching across a street in front of me with a walker while I'm driving.
Oh and Mr. Fahr, the principal at my grade school who poked me in the back with a pencil in the lunch room and made me pick a piece of meat loaf off the floor (that wasn't mine) and put it on my plate and then chastized me for wasting food: I hope you are living on a diet of cat food, particularly that batch that has been recalled.
There are also a whole slew of schoolyard bullies I remember who I'd like to wish an IRS audit on: John Zior, Louie Strahler, Gregg Hutton, Bill Miller and David Wilder. I hope you all have grown up to be fat and bald old men who forget what your teeny little private parts are for.
As for the person who hit my parked 1979 Honda Prelude in front of the Rainbow Tavern back in 1985 and left a note with a fake name and telephone number, I hope you busted a headlight while doing it, got busted for DUI and ended up in a drunk tank with an amorous tattooed man who told you that you have a real pretty mouth.
And finally for all of the editors over time who rejected my submissions to your magazines, I hope you now working in manufacturing plant editing instructions for shaving cream cans.
I feel better already.