Do Not Upstage The Earth Science Teacher

I took a course in earth science when I was in junior high school.

One day, the teacher held a “science bee”, which was similar to a spelling bee.  We all stood up, and were each asked an earth science question.  If you got the answer wrong, you had to sit down.  This continued until there was one person left standing.

My turn.  The teacher asked me, “When is the earth closest to the Sun?”  My mind started grinding away.  Equinox/solstice --- no, they’re not right.  Aphelion/perihelion --- I never could remember which one meant close and which one meant far.  Finally, I blurted out an answer:

“The earth is closest to the Sun on Sundays.”

As soon as the class started to roar with laughter, I knew I had made a big faux pas.  I had upstaged the earth science teacher. 

Now, instead of sitting down, I had to bend over.  I knew the routine: I stood at the sink in the front of the classroom, put one hand on the cold water faucet and one hand on the hot water faucet, and bent over.  Mr. Shapiro then whacked my derriere with a blackboard pointer.

It did not hurt; the goal was humiliation, not harshness.  It was the equivalent of the hook used to yank unpopular acts off of a vaudeville stage.  After all, it was earth science class, and Mr. Shapiro wanted to be the source of all humor.

We graduated from junior high school that year, and many people signed my copy of the yearbook: “Doug, have fun on Sundays!”

Thirty-four years later, I went to my high school reunion. Our old teachers had been invited, and Mr. Shapiro showed up.  He was carrying his copy of the yearbook. 

I greeted him, asked him for his yearbook and his pen, and sat down.  I turned to the page where I had written some drivel in his yearbook: “Mr. Shapiro, thank you for the interesting earth science classes.”

It was time to rectify things. It was time to write what I was too timid to write when I was fourteen years old: “Mr. Shapiro, the earth really is closest to the Sun on Sundays!”

Now I am helping plan our fiftieth high school reunion, and I sent out an email to everyone on our distribution list.  I was surprised at how many people responded to my email:  “Hey, Doug, good to hear from you.  Are you still having fun on Sundays?”

Fifty-four years after that science bee, some of my classmates still remember me as the person who dared to upstage the earth science teacher.

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com