school district blues

Last month I read about the upheaval in the North Schuylkill School District. It sort of reminded me of the reality tv show Survivor with only one person is left. I soon put my paper down and fell asleep in my easy chair...I began to dream that I was the only director of the school district...and I was holding my first meeting......what a dream....

After the pledge of allegiance and the roll call, I called the meeting to order. I immediately moved to rename the high school after myself. I seconded the motion and it passed unanimously. I then moved to invite Arlen Spector to the gala dedication ceremony with the High School band playing only Metallica music. After I seconded, the motion was approved.

Then it came to the fiscal business. I immediately tackled the budget and motioned to allocate a large amount of money to be spent, I mean invested, at Mohegan Sun. Since gambling is off- limits to minors, which includes nearly all of the students not red-shirted, I graciously volunteered to play the slot machines in hopes of raising needed revenue without increasing taxes on the hard working property owners. My gesture of goodwill was accepted by the board without any objection.

Then there was the controversial issue of sex education. Should there be an increase in sex education or should that be left alone, to be figured out behind the bleachers after a big game? I moved that the matter be tabled until after the football season. The matter was so tabled.

Being sensitive to recent court rulings on "church and state" I moved that all textbooks be reviewed to remove any reference to a diety. In its place more references to Klingons and their language would be added, welcomed also by the Linguistics Department. Also, as Pluto had been cast out of the Solar System, as if it was some school board director, the time spent on teaching about the solar system (now in disarray) would be better spent on discussing Planet Hollywood. I then moved to approve a sub-lease of the Cafeteria with Planet Hollywood. After a spirited debate, the motion was approved unanimously.

I then moved that the science curriculum be revamped to teach the theory of Unintelligent Design and feature photographic evidence taken at Renninger's Market and the Pottsville American Way Fair. This would certainly scare the bejeezus out of the creationists and convince them once and for all that mankind is still evolving from the swamp. After lengthy debate, the motion failed as I had to abstain from voting due to a conflict of interest. Apparently I was caught in the photographs taken at Renninger's Market purchasing a watermelon and six sticky buns. Another photograph depicted Mammy and I eating funnel cake at the last American Way Fair. I had lots of powered sugar on my face in that one!

The press then pushed me on my position with the rebels in Ringtown who were clamoring for self-determination. I responded that I would not hesitate to declare a state of Murphy's Law and call out every patrol boy and crossing guard in the district to quell any disturbance in that break-away municipality. But as a token of goodwill I stressed that I would push for peace talks with the rebels, to be held in a neutral arena, such as Mohegan Suns Slots Parlor, in the law abiding neighboring Luzerne County. I would personally attend such a summit and stay as long as it takes to have "peace with honor."

I then set a date for the next meeting and placed on the agenda the need to consider changing the nickname of the school from the ethnically-offensive Spartans which I consider stereotypically degrading to our Greek-American citizens, most of whom are peaceful restaurant proprietors....I finally moved to adjourn the meeting, I then seconded my motion and the meeting was adjourned.....zzz....zzzz....zzz.....zzzz

Jackson Street (part 3)

There are numerous lessons to be learned from the shut down of Jackson Street. You know, when the street was closed after the untimely passing of the King of Pop by the crowds that held round-the-clock vigils.

First of all we realize the importance of Jackson Street as a vital city thoroughfare. Never again will it be taken for granted. This Street has often been compared to Paris' rue Notre Dame des Champs; it had been the center of intellectual and cultural life when the city had such life. In fact, during the 1950s and 1960s Mickey's Fountainette, on the corner of Jackson and Norwegian Streets, was the gathering place of young teens who flocked to the city; these youngsters were known as une generation perdue ( or 'the baby booming lost generation').

It was a great time to be young and alive in the City of Light beer.

At Mickey's Fountainette, the idealistic, gawky young people ate hamburgers, drank Slushies, smoked cigarettes, read comic books, chewed gum, laughed and loved (not necessarily in that order) while being seranaded by the music of Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs which bellowed from the corner juke box....

"Matty told Hatty about a thing she saw.

Had two big horns and a wooly jaw... Wooly bully, wooly bully...."

Hemingway was probably correct when he wrote, "there is never ever an ending to Pottsville, and the memory of each person who lived there differs from that of every other."

Pottsville in the early and mid-20th century was indeed a grand locale. It was full of euphoria, youth and enthusiasm (not necessarily in that order).

For that reason alone it is imperative that we keep Jackson Street open at all times. Anyone blocking the street should be dealt with swiftly and harshly. I suggest horsewhipping.

Secondly, the city officials must be commended for performing superbly under extreme pressure by launching the flawless "Operation Vittles," with helicopters from the 14th Street Heliport joining the aircraft from Zerbey International Airport to deliver boxes of pizza and hoagies (some hot, but mainly plain; some without onions) to the citizens of Greenwood Hill, dropping the foodstuff by handkerchief parachutes. Lest we forget, Bohorad's Store must be commended for donating the needed hankerchiefs. This certainly boosted moral of the Greenies, who felt isolated, depressed and abandoned (not necessarily in that order); not knowing if they would have to spend a weekend watching the Phillies on television without any of their favorite fast foods. Television is shallow and empty without lots of food to eat, especially if you are watching a baseball game. These resilient people could not break through the hysterical crowd of humanity that closed off Jackson Street from one end to the other. Pizza and hoagies were beyond their grasp.

I was told that discussions are already underway to commemorate this unique East Side airlift with a modest monument to be located at the Greenwood Hill playground. That is a good thing. As a closing side note, one of the hoagies that landed in Greenwood Hill was recently donated to the county Historical Society. I understand it is a small Italian, with oil and hot peppers and extra cheese (not necessarily in that order). It will be placed on public display for the next 30 days.