I started writing humor my senior year of high school in a
monthly column titled “Giving The Bird”. Yes, they actually let me call it that
because the mascot at Kenmore High School in Akron, Ohio is the cardinal. Or
should I say, was the cardinal, because the school will be closing soon.
My friend Fred suggested I write a final “Giving The Bird”
in this blog as a tribute. I thought
that was a lousy idea, but I have been following Fred’s outrageous ideas since
we were young pranksters terrorizing the neighborhood. If this post turns out to be terrible, you
can blame Fred.
Officially, they are not closing the school, but “merging” it with
our arch-enemy Garfield High. However, the
new school building will sit on the site of the old Garfield High and they will
bus the Kenmore kids in, so they are in effect closing my school. You bastards.
Combining these schools is a horrible idea. It’s like
making the Greeks go to school with the Turks, the Hatfields studying with the
Mc Coys, the Trumps playing ball with the Clintons. It just ain’t right. We were taught in grade school that Garfield
kids were stupid, smelled bad and had serious cooties. This had something to do with football games
and rivalries or such.
The acrimony was
drilled into us so deeply that it was still anathema to date a Garfield girl
even after you graduated. Even if she
was cute, it didn’t matter. You would be
ostracized, and besides that, who wants to visit the medical clinic to receive
treatment for a bad case of college cooties.
I have only had one friend from Garfield High my entire life. Interestingly, she was a former Garfield
cheerleader who I met through work. I
overlooked her heritage because she had uh, she was eh, - let’s just say she
had a lovely personality. Did I mention she was a cheerleader?
Mixing these schools into one is just plain wrong. You
bastards. The school names, mascots (Cardinal
and Ram) and colors (red/black and maroon/gold) are not easily combined for the
new school. Potential new names such as
Kenfield and Garmore do not easily roll off the tongue. The worst combo would
be Garken, which sounds too much like gherkin, where the school would be the
home of the “Fighting Pickles”. Love that mascot!
The school is closing since enrollment is now less than a
third of when I graduated. The
environment inside the school has become more violent. The mean kids beat up all scholars and the
scholars transferred to the nearby suburban district in droves. Now there are only a few students left and no
one
to beat up.
But don’t feel sorry for the mean kids, the plan is to
transfer the Garfield students into the Kenmore building for a year while the
new school is being built (the school will have some combo name for one
year). This means the Kenmore hooligans
will have a fresh bunch of kids to beat up!
This should work out really well. You stupid bastards. If the fighting is too intense, there may not
be anyone left to attend the brand new Garken High.
The conditions outside the school walls have deteriorated
also. The community is sliding
downhill. The potheads, turned into meth-heads,
who turned into opiate addicts. Convenience store parking lots are littered with used needles. There is a guy
running loose who poops on people’s cars during the night (I am not making this
up). In my day (used to hate this expression, but for some odd reason I’m using
it more every day), you could walk the length of the main drag, The Boulevard,
and feel safe at any hour of the day. Now, people get robbed at gunpoint in
mid-afternoon.
My connection with
Kenmore High School is tighter than most alumni. My mother was a secretary there in the
1950’s. It was a job she dearly loved,
however she chose to give it up when she became pregnant with her only child
(bonus points if you can guess his name).
She often lamented that her old high school had been closed in the early 80's. I used to consider these comments as
just the aimless ramblings of an old person, needlessly yearning for days gone
by. Ironically, I am now the same exact
age as my mother was when they closed her school. Suddenly, those ramblings are not so aimless
and I yearn. Yes, I yearn.
Sadly, the first line of the alma mater is “Oh Kenmore High
forever”. Well, now that’s a lie. Thanks, you bastards. Now we need a new song. Maybe one titled “My School Was Gone”. No,
that sounds too close to “My City Was Gone” and that song was written about a
totally different place, what city was it? Oh, Oh, Oh ….. Uh, Chrissie Hynde,
could you please write a fourth verse, “I went back to Ohio, but my school was
gone”.
My gratitude to this school runs so deep. I received a tremendous education there, of
much more value to me than I could ever realize at the time. What America provides you is opportunity and
Kenmore High School gave me the opportunity to thrive, and I took it and ran. First, at the University of Akron where I was
the top Marketing student my senior year (“line up behind me, you suburban
kids”) and then in the business world.
I’m not sure how high I stand on this corporate ladder, but be certain,
the first rung is painted red and black.
Just as important, as mentioned previously, my humor writing began in a
classroom there and ultimately lead to me being an author.
I desperately needed that great education, because as
LeBron James said “In Northeast Ohio, nothing is given. Everything is earned.
You work for what you have.” You may understand what his words mean with your
head, I can feel what his words mean in my heart. And while LeBron is “Just a kid from Akron”,
I will look out at the awesome scene from my hotel room, at a fancy resort
where some group has flown me in to speak, and think to myself, “Not bad for a
Kenmore kid”.
Now I have a deep, gut-wrenching pain. The agony you feel at the funeral of an old
friend. A friend with whom you shared
many great times, a friendship full of cherished memories. A friend who departed much too soon. The administrators who made this decision
will claim the school died, I would argue they strangled it to death over many
years. But what these highly-paid,
educational poohbahs will never, ever, realize, is when you close this school,
you are closing part of me. And for
that, I will give you the bird. Rest in peace Kenmore High, rest in peace.
And
three guys I admired it’s true
Senuta,
Fortner and coach Wendschuh
They locked
the door, the key they threw
The
day the Cardinal died
And we
were wailing
Bye,
bye, school on Akron’s south side
Tried
to study, got too bloody
And
that spirit has died
Them
Buckey boys passed the ball one last time
Saying
this’ll be the day that we cry
