Roy G Biv:
CLASS OF 1973
Miami Beach High SchoolClass of 1973
Miami beach, FL
Johns Hopkins UniversityClass of 1976
Baltimore, MD
Bay Harbor Elementary SchoolClass of 1967
Bay harbor islands, FL
Roy G's Story
I am a real colorful guy. I have a whole spectrum of talents ; a palette
of possibilities. I am very well red,
sometimes green with envy, and occassionally blue, just don't call me yellow, cause I'm as brave as the next guy; and I'll turn purple with rage. I ain't no colored folk but I support the rainbow coalition.
Ah, life was once so clear; so black and white; just had to stay
within the lines of life's coloring
book. Wishing hue a happy life.
Roy
I had my own private domain
at Nautilus, my own private province of pranks. It was only about 8 feet
wide, maybe 40 feet long. Nestled twixt the science class rooms in the separate wing next to the ballfield, was a small lab room with closets, counters and sinks.
My job was basically to clean glassware and prepare biologic specimens for dissection. Often I'd be carousing on 41 St, or at the beach, and I'd I have to race back to pith marine toads.
Pithing was taking a probe and destroying their central nervous system while keeping them alive. You could watch their organs still function, but they weren't gonna jump into your lap.
I could pith with the best of them. I could pith with either hand. Basically, I was one hell of a pither.
I even had a defense system for my private province. I would fill
a flat dish with ammonia, which I used to clean the glass ware. I got acclimated to the smell, but if someone walked in, they would be forced to step back, and this gave me just enough time to hide whatever mischief I was up to.
And what good is having your own private domain, if you can't share it. So on this one day, I invited Robert Goodman to share in the joys of science. (The names have not been changed to protect the guilty.) I was busy making smoke bombs, experimenting with coloring agents, to produce different colored smoke. This process required first the manufacture of gunpowder. This was long before Columbine, but I still think the school authorities would frown on the manufacturing of gunpower between two full classes of students. As I am sealing some of the smoke bombs, Goodman taps me on the shoulder and shows me that he has lit one of the smokebombs. The counter is
full of gunpowder, and this lit ...Expand for more
smoke bomb is about to shower sparks at any moment.
I must digress here for a moment. This was a time before personal computers and cellphones and electronic wizardry. Some young men back then would play with small rockets with combustible engines. My neighbor
in Bay Harbor, Rusty, blew off half his face, by hammering on a marble tile while perfecting his rocketry. A spark jumped from the marble/hammer interface, and voila,
facial reconstruction.
So, as I am considering that Goodman has lit and held this smokebomb for x # of moments, and there is all this gunpowder; and I didn't want to end up like my neighbor Rusty. I immediately grabbed the lit smoke bomb and raced for the exit. Throwing open the door and popping the bomb through the chain link fence out onto the field. Robert Goodman thought this was hilarious and was laughing loudly.
Unknown to me, Mrs. Rubin was teaching a Sex Education class next door. She heard the ruckus, and the laughter; and wrongly assumed that I was listening at the keyhole to the sex education
class. In absolute honesty, I did not know there was a sex ed class
going on, and even if I did, menstruation just has never been a subject that thrilled me.
Mrs, Rubin, a lovable bear of a woman, steps into the doorway, defending her female cubs against the obvious lecher at the keyhole, and instead of me backing up, and hiding behind her large frame; I had to step forward into the classroom, or Mrs. Rubin would see the smoke rising from the ballfield. A soft purple cloud, I must add. There was Susie Lee and Susie Prince, and every other young lovely that I would stro....err....dream of . All the young women in the world that I wanted...that I wanted to think of me as charming and pleasant and approachable; now saw me as the sexual deviant at the keyhole. Normally one should always go with one's firt impression. But damn it; if I'm gonna be convicted, I'd like to be guilty of something. Oh, yeah, I was, the manufacture of gunpowder and smoke bombs on school property with school chemicals. And for this service , they rewarded me with the science award every year. Ah yes, the golden years. And Robert Goodman, if you're out there....you owe me.
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