A Baker's Dozen

David Matherne

1 I ain't no valedictorian. I'll give you that. But I'm certainly not the loser my step-father Johnnie likes to think I am, either. Mr. oh-so-famous local Johnnie Pipehead of "Johnnie on the Spot Plumbing." (Real clever name, huh?) Just because he only took the requisite twelve years to make it through school and graduate from his alma mater, and I took slightly longer, that doesn't make me a loser. So what if I took "the road less traveled by" and added a one-year, scenic detour to my journey--thanks to Algebra, Physical Science, and well...Latin. Did I mention Chemistry? Let's just say I liked Latin but Latin didn't much care for me. Just because I took thirteen years in all to get out of Melancholy High with a diploma doesn't make me some loser. Being nothing at all, now THAT would make me a loser.

2 I am something. But what I am, and what I'll be, are two countries at war at present. Battles, I've had them. Many battles. Literal ones...figurative ones...too many. Figurative language...see there? At least I did learn a few somethings in Mr. J's English class.

3 I could've been the valedictorian. Of somewhere. Of some school that had a bunch of unmotivated kids like me. Then, maybe I would have gone to those Physical Science study halls. Maybe I would have actually done my homework in Mr. Pugnacious' class. Real name, Pugliese. Wrestling coach. Don't you just love that moniker? For a wrestling coach...Pugnacious. Funny stuff, huh? Made that up. It stuck. Guy's got a bulldog face but a little tail-wagging personality. Had everything but the panting. And the drool. Too much caffeine I suppose. Too happy. Loved his math, that Pugnacious.

4 Yeah, I could've been the valedictorian somewhere. I would've shown everyone how determined I can truly be. As it turned out, I showed 'em anyway. Counselors were shown that I didn't have to graduate with my class, like they so earnestly wished for me to. I showed the teachers who said, "Conrad, your sophomore year will be two of the best years of your life, son." My retorts were always something cleverly snide as well, like: "Yeah, but half the sophomores around here don't even know how to spell s-o-p-h-o-m-o-r-e...they leave out the 'o' on all their cheesy, self-absorbed class election posters, and they certainly don't have a clue that it's a combination of two latinaic roots, 'sopho' and 'more,' meaning 'wise fool.' At least I'm a fool with a bit of wisdom."

5 I could've impressed Mr. Johhnie come-lately, my Mom's most recent convenience among a revolving door of Pops rejects. Yeah, Mr. Johnnie would've loved me being the valedictorian, giving that big speech, the one Angel Ramirez so properly gave tonight...'Members of the School Board, Mr. Wilson, Parents, Faculty and Students, blah, blah, yuck, blah, blah, blah.' I could've given my version instead, only to have Mr. Johnnie Joint-Compound listen, then sending me off to some trade school on a full ride to cut pipe and be his apprentice who wipes his nose and kisses his bu-- and goes on cigarette or burger runs or grabs some rusty tool from the truck. Not gonna fight that part of the war.

6 I was the valedictorian tonight. I do know what I'm going to be. I have graduated from Meloncamp High School about 115th out of class of 126. Thing is, I've seen the fear in the eyes of four score and seven more of those classmates of mine that don't have a rat's chance of knowing what they are going to be. I do. I'm going to be a writer. Mr. J taught me more than English. He taught me what Pops taught me before his passing...love.

7 So here's my Valedictory: "Good evening, everyone. Thanks for coming out to sit on hard, uncomfortable stadium concrete on an unseasonably warm evening and wearing clothes and shoes you can't wait to get home to get out of. Here's what I have. Time is NOT money. Time is convenience. And when one gives up Time, he does pay for it. Yes. But if he trades Time for Opportunity, then he gets credit. So, in conclusion, Time is NOT money, but it CAN be spent. How will you spend yours?! Thank you, good night."

"Not gonna fight that part of the war."

After evaluating the last sentence of paragraph 5, select the sentence that would increase the precision of statement.

A) I'm not going to join the military.

B) I'm not going to be a writer after all.

C) I'm probably not going to engage in that activity right now.

D) I'm not going to do that with my life; I have different plans.