I would have never tolerated that in the 8th grade!
Lol, were there any adults big enough to do that when you were in the 8th grade?
Maybe just.
They wouldn't have liked it though.
Jim:
Good morning to you sir, I hope the day's looking fine down on the High Line and you and all your fine family are well.
Meant to say how much I enjoyed the biker video too, thanks for sharing it.
Anyways, your Grade 8 story twigged a memory long gone and I hope it's okay I share it.
Back in the '70's in Saskatchewan, we had to stay in school until we were 15 or completed Grade 8. There were a few that didn't quite make either however.....
One of the most hated classes was the mandatory French language class, as this was the Trudeau senior era where he'd given western Canadians the finger - yah he did that from a train in Salmon Arm - and then told us to "sell our own damn wheat" and then prevented those who tried.
Anyways, let's just say most parents then didn't support little Johnny getting taught French - but there it was.
Our 7th French teacher that year, yes Jim, we weren't easy on them either looking back, was one Pierre Coquette who was straight out of Quebec and likely was just in the wrong place at a worse time. He wasn't a big fellow, but quite fit.
My sometime friend Keith W, wasn't a big kid really, but nobody messed with Keith because he was one of those kids who came from a rough home and was "well versed in the language of fisticuffs and violence" shall we say.
Mr. Coquette had a wild temper. He'd throw books, chalk board erasers or whatever was handy and then go off like a bottle rocket, turning the most red I'd ever seen a human turn while angry.
Our family Jim, were staid Germanic folks who didn't yell, didn't show emotion, didn't raise your voice other than to livestock or dogs... we were that other group.
So to the meat of the story, one day Keith was being Keith in class and Mr. Coquette blew a gasket and threw some books or a stack of papers onto Keith's desk - clearing the desk top right smartly. Then Mr. Coquette began to yell in French at Keith as he grabbed him by the shoulders, attempting to get him out of the desk.
Well Keith came out of the desk quicker than Mr. Coquette had envisioned, and as we used to say in Saskatchewan, "laid shoes to plumbs"!
Mr. Coquette dropped like a rock, but very quickly was back up again, headed out of class after Keith, who at that juncture must have made the life choice school wasn't really his thing any longer.
The last time I saw Keith in a school anywhere, he and Mr. Coquette were circling down the hallway towards the exit, each grabbing each other by the shoulders and attempting to repeat Keith's earlier martial arts maneuver.
Funny I don't recall Mr. Coquette coming back to class ever again either Jim - he might have or not - I can't say now, but if he did it wasn't for long. The next and last French teacher they brought in was a very pretty younger lady and she certainly had all of us Grade 8 boys on our best behavior, but that's another story for another day.
Thanks for the Grade 8 memory from long, long ago Jim. All the very best to you and your wonderful clan out there on the Montana plains sir.
Dwayne
