I was called to the principal's office one time in my life. It was the last semester of my Senior year. I almost made it all the way through my school career without a face to face with any principal. Almost.
Then when it happened I had no idea why. I hadn't done anything wrong that I could have gotten caught for. I was always discreet in my indiscretions. I was not a good enough student to be praised for any sort of academic achievement. I can guarantee you that when I started writing this post about 2 minutes ago, if you would have asked me, "Will the word 'flummoxed' appear in this post twice?" I would have said, I don't believe I've ever used that word before, so it's a good chance you won't be seeing it tonight even once.
But walking that long mile to the principal's office, I was flummoxed. I decided it must be some sort of recognition for being super-duper. I knew I wasn't in any kind of trouble. So I went in feeling pretty dandy.
I didn't know the principal at all. I had never talked to him before. To me at the time, he looked kind of like Darrin Stephens from Bewitched. Not the cool first Darrin Stephens, but the dorky second Darrin Stephens.
Even though he looked dorky, I admired him. He was the principal of a big high school. He had the courage to do this with one of the worst possible names for a principal. G. E. Moller. First of all, you've got the "G. E." then of course the last name that sounds like a tooth. And if you don't know, the "G" stood for Gaylord. Our Principal's name was Gaylord E. Moller. Dr. Gaylord E. Moller to you.
Knowing that he ran a school with a name like "Gaylord", I was terrified of him. He must be a total badass, I thought.
But again, I wasn't worried because I hadn't done anything wrong.
Waiting in the reception area, I saw a few students going in and out. Most of them were surprised to see me. I started to feel a little bit like a stud. "Yeah, I'm pretty much a bad boy. I'm in the principal's office. Don't "F" with me, bitch!"
People were walking by outside and knocking on the window to wave to me. All I could do is raise my hands in a "I have no idea" gesture.
Finally, I was called in. I sat down in front of Dr. Moller. He didn't look happy. So much for the "super-duper" thing. He was reading a 3X5 index card. He finished. Removed his glasses and looked at me.
"Is this yours?" he asked as he slid the card across his desk.
To my horror, it was a card I had filled out at the beginning of the year. I had indeed written what was on it. I never gave it a second thought. It was a stupid joke as far as I was concerned.
The first day of senior year at Omaha Central High school was a distant memory for me. It had happened about six months before this visit to see Dr. Moller.
I was not in what I'd call a "jocular" mood that first day. Mostly because I would never use the word "jocular." But I was feeling pretty damn froggy.
I was ready to get this year over with and be on my merry way to real life. I hated school. Especially high school. To me, every year since kindergarten had gotten progressively worse. No way I was going to college. I could discern the pattern and I wanted no part of it. Ironically, just about everything I hated about school was corrected in college. But that's another story.
In homeroom of that first day of senior year, the "teacher" handed out 3X5 index cards. We were instructed to write down our name and plans for after high school. If we were going to college, we should say which one and what we plan to study.
For some reason, I didn't see this going anywhere. I didn't know why they wanted to know (it had something to do with the graduation ceremony, so my response was not at all appropriate).
I had no intention of going to college. I worked at Wendy's and figured that's what I'd be doing after high school. No way I was putting "I'm going to work at Wendy's"
So I wrote down something I thought was funny. I'm going to repeat it here, but I want to say that I am embarrassed by it. I wrote: I'm going to Millionaire school. I was going to go to Billionaire school but I couldn't afford the tuition.
Just now - typing this, I sighed heavily. Probably not that different from the way Dr. Moller reacted when he read it 3 decades ago.
"You must've been in a pretty jocular mood that day," Dr. Moller yelled after making me read it to him. Even after I tried to read it in my best funnyman voice.
I think if you were allowed to bring a drum kit into the principal's office, it would be nice. A well-placed rim shot can do wonders. I mean, it's pretty obvious from my Millionaire School joke ... I know comedy.
Anyway. In the end, I was forced to give the good Dr. a real answer. I considered saying, "I've been accepted to Harvard, but he would already know that I hadn't. Millionaire school was more likely. I was under the gun. I still couldn't just say, "Work at Wendy's" so I asked myself, what's an answer he will believe? What would a loser do? I mean cooler than Wendy's, but still a loser. Then inspiration struck.
I was looking at Dr. Moller who needed an answer right now. In my mind, this answer was way funnier than the other one about Millionaire school, but I was pretty sure he'd believe it.
"I'm going into the Air Force," I finally admitted. I was thinking - I would go into the coast guard but I can't afford the tuition.
My heart jumped for joy when I saw him accept that answer and edit my 3X5 card. The idea of me joining the military was beyond absurd. They got out of school and volunteered for a life of getting up even earlier. No effing way.
Boy were my parents surprised at the graduation when they read of my plan in the program.
Anyway, at graduation, when Dr. Moller called me up to receive my diploma, I said something to him that I hadn't said to anyone in the whole 3 years I went to Central. Up until high school I had usually corrected everyone. Then I just stopped at 10th grade. I didn't care anymore. But it somehow seemed important at graduation.
"It's pronounced 'Hinsley'," I whispered to him as he handed over the sheepskin.
He laughed and spoke into the microphone - "My apologies, Mr. Hinsley. I guess you weren't in my office enough for me to know your name."
That one got a good laugh.
Good guy, that Dr. Moller.
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