08 - Up Periscope

Speaking of stranger things happening: puberty and awkward situations.

Seems that everywhere I turned in the 6^th grade, something sexually awkward was happening somewhere. Hell, it was happening everywhere.

In Mr. Larson’s 6^th grade science class, he attempted to teach us about sex education. In gym class, there were all kinds of problems. First off, we all had to change into shorts and t-shirts. Now, we’d all seen each other in shorts and shirts a million times – whether it was at the pool during the summer or going out with friends on family picnics or just hanging out after school playing touch football at the playground – but, we’d never actually had to deal with the strange environment of the locker room.

We stripped down to our Fruit of the Looms and pulled on horrible nylon shorts to go with the same t-shirts we’d be wearing for the rest of the day (at eleven, we’d not made the connection between body odor and attracting girls). Still, we were semi-naked. This sometimes meant the weird slap-and-tickle moments of wedgies, purple herbies, (nipple twists), or ram-rods (flicking each other in the groin to make the other buckle over in pain). We had done that so much that the whole idea of surviving the locker room meant racing in to be first to change and using the locker door to guard your naughty bits.

After we’d survived the whole locker room ordeal, we’d line up, boys on one side and girls on the other. The girls were starting to develop a case of the mumps – but they were on their front parts, just below eye level (it was only later on that we realized this “Was” eye level for lots of guys, starting at age 13 and not ending for the rest of many of their lives). Lauren Callahan and Briana Cherry were among the first to be ‘prominent’ in our class – and they had to worry every time there was any kind of reference to chests or breasts or even milk. Truly, for them, it had to be horrifying to be first in class.

As our 6^th grade gym class started, Mr. Wallace proudly announced we’d be climbing the rope that day.  He instructed us that boys would go first. We lined up beside the mat spread in the middle of the basketball court, right next to the gym rope, which dangled from the center of the ceiling. Meanwhile, he instructed the girls to take places in the auditorium.

You see, the gymnasium at our middle school was also part of a much larger auditorium. The hardwood basketball court was also a stage that Mrs. LaTorre used for her choirs during holiday pageants and Mr. Conners used for school assemblies when he had some important announcement to make to both the 6^th and 7^th grade classes. It was a stage – and the girls were watching from the audience.

While they watched, our show of manliness was on full display. It was more humiliation than machismo, though, as we shimmied up a thick sisal rope, our legs folded over the rope and our man-parts doing all the unspeakable things we’d been doing for the previous five years in elementary school – but something was different. Our man-parts were responding to the feeling of a rope between our legs (and that’s no metaphor).

Cheap nylon shorts and worn out Fruit of the Loom are no match for the indomitable man-parts, especially in the early stages of puberty.

Some of the kids made it up the rope, no sweat. Others struggled and still others just didn’t make it past Mr. Wallace’s reach. One kid was red-faced, struggling with all his might. There were snickers and giggles from both the audience and the line of boys itself. As I neared the front of the line, I became nervous. What if I couldn’t climb higher than the red-faced kid? What if I fell once I reached the top? There were a thousand things that raced through my mind. After Bryan Barrett took his turn, it was Andy Harmon’s turn. Then, it would be my turn.

Brian made it to the top and rang the little bell. As Andy got ready, I could tell he was nervous. He blew on his hands and rubbed them vigorously on his shorts, trying to dry his palms.

Then, he began climbing and that was it. He was up past Mr. Wallace’s head, he was half way up the rope, he was near the top. Then, he rang the bell. Loud and clear, it echoed through the auditorium.
”Come on down, Mr. Harmon!”

But, something happened on the way down…

When Andy stepped away from the rope, it was there for all of us to see. Andy Harmon had a boner.

The girls laughed and the boys laughed, too. Andy looked down at his crotch and blushed. Unfortunately, it was a blush much, much worse than the fat, red-faced kid who couldn’t climb more than five or six feet. Tears started welling in his eyes, too.

Mr. Wallace inadvertently glanced down, too. When he did, Andy immediately ran to the back of the stage and out through the door towards the boys’ locker room. He rushed by again, passing by the open door on his way to the Principal’s Office.

“Alright, everyone,” ordered Mr. Wallace, “let’s get to our locker rooms and get changed. That’s enough for today.”

I had been spared the humiliation of rope climbing – at least for that day. However, not everyone was so lucky….

Andy, Bryan and I were students in Ms. Jackson’s Ohio History class after gym, but when we went to class, Andy wasn’t there. However, when Mrs. Jackson performed roll call, she skipped right by Andy’s name. In fact, Andy wasn’t in any of our classes, and not one teacher said a thing about it. Even the next day, Andy wasn’t there. The next time we showed up to Mr. Wallace’s class, Mr. Wallace made the complete roll call.

“Harmon, Andy!”

“Here,” said Andy meekly.

Everyone laughed.

“Shuch!” said Mr. Wallace, “If I hear even the slightest chuckl about what happened the other day, I’m going to give that person a spanking so hard their great grandparents will rub their asses! Is that crystal clear?”

“Yessir,” came a low mutter.

“Is that clear?” he repeated.

“Yes, Mr. Wallace.”

Beyond that day, nobody said a thing to or about Andy Harmon’s day on the rope. In fact, after 6^th grade, I rarely saw Andy. He hadn’t moved, but we had different paths. He went to the Vocational School while I stayed with Bryan back at the regular old high school. To this day, it is rare I even hear one of our mutual friends mention his name. Strangely, some names and faces just fade away.

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