Jim McNulty:
CLASS OF 1966
Wheatland-Chili High SchoolClass of 1966
Scottsville, NY
Jim's Story
June 27, 1966 Graduation Night..."short people" (Thank You, Randy!) in front. Talls in the back. Hot, remembering the sweat dripping from the back of my cap down my neck. Linda Longhouse on my right, wondering 'where the hell did all these people come from?' I nudged her with a smile of self indulged satisfaction as my last act of defiance at WCCS. Last class of original WILDCATS...To become "scottsmen?" WTF, was that? Whispered to Linda "Guess who...printed the tickets?" The first year, quotas were established, to 8 per Grad?
Some of you had big familys. To think my Grandmother and my first love wouldn't be able to attend, incensed me, for all of you. The tickets, numbered. All studyhalls, spare time, spent in the print shop. I was probably the only student, that never needed a "Pass" to go anywhere. I knew the presses. Why I didn't stay with it, I don't know, but my career would have dissolved 20 years ago. John Fey trusted me with the presses because I knew how, but knew there was mischief within. When left alone, the imp appeared. I printed a double batch of tickets and programs. One batch of tickets and 100 extra programs for the School. The other batch for me...matching numbers, You only had to ask. I had to make sure you got different numbers. I knew there'd be some geek, pencilneck underclass scum running to someone to report it. Mr. Fey, gave me hell for printing the extra programs. From Islip, NY...He'd seen it all and it was hard to get one by him. Just waited for him to pick up on it. You all know the acronym SRO...YOU DO, NOW!
Thinking of it, now, I should have gotten close to one girls in Art...Sorry guys, I needed one, delicate of hand. To etch plates for the $10 dollar bill. Another to make rag linen paper with the colored threads in it. Not hard if you knew. I ...Expand for more
could have poured the plates with melted linotype. Why the $10? Did you know anyone in 1966 with a $20? NEITHER DID I.
MCNULTY, jmak118 at aol.
There is/was a book titled 'YOU ARE YOUR BLOOD TYPE". I nearly busted a gut reading about mine. SO TRUE, of me, anyway. One of the rarest B NEG. THAT DEFINES ME... BE NEGATIVE. Yet, it served me well. At 1 time, I was one of 4 donors in Monroe County.
Hero's? Mom and Dad, probably. Like you other baby boomers, we had nothing, expected nothing, but somehow, they worked and saved and struggled to keep a roof over our heads, food on the table...good food too, and clothe us, and eke out enough for their own retirement. Yeah, real Heros.
Hunting and shooting sports. Not missing the hunting much. There are no Pheasants, but the woodchuck and wild turkey abound. Competitive shooting got a grip. High Power Rifle. Position. Bullseye 3 gun pistol. Later/Now, 10 meter intl. air pistol. NONE, a spectator sport. Guys, remember when we'd bring our guns and ammo to school, stow it in our lockers and go across the street to hunt at last bell?
If I could improve my home, I'd remodel it with a bulldozer and add on a new house. My dream home would be ADA compliant. The floor and toilet seat seem to be getting farther and farther away.
Before they came along, we thought we had worries. Us, mostly having nothing, were a lot happier. Our children have a task ahead of them. I'll say I learned patience...at a cost of sanity.
If I won $100 million, I'd give some of it to WCCS, in the form of scholarships, then spend the rest on stocks, munis and another home.
Anne Driscoll and I whacked heads hard enough in kindergarten or first, I think I drove most of my smarts into her head, out of mine. She'll never let me live it down... nor thank me for the 50 extra IQ points I gave her.
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