The simple things are very fulfilling when you are young. When I was really young I love Guy Smiley. At my grandparents' house, they had a chain curtain in front of the fireplace that I would pull open, as if it were a stage curtain, and I would have my mom or aunt go "It's Guy Smiley!" Then I would take the pulley of the curtain in my hand and use it like a microphone. "Thank you, Thank you!" I was odd. I don't know how I became odd, but it worked for a while. I know it worked because in kindergarten...I was cool.
There I was. Walking into PM kindergarten at Monsignor Bove like I owned the place. I was cool. Confident. Well-liked by all of my friends. We had races in the playground. I would win those races and the other would cheer. They girls went wild for me. Especially Jeannie. Jeannie Riley, with her big poof of hair and wide grin. She had the hots for me and everyone knew it. But that wasn't my scene, man. I had to break her heart. Didn't want to, but a man knows what he wants. But Desiree? Desiree Hamilton was a different story. The cute, quiet, blond girl that kissed me at graduation, me wearing my little grey suit, her wearing her white dress, both of us in paper graduation caps. I had no problems there. Life was good, my friends. Life was good and then we moved. Out of Providence, from the little duplex where my aunt, uncle, and cousins lived right below us for a time. We were only a little ways away in Cranston. Nicer house. Nicer neighborhood. And no kids.
People take kindergarten for granted. It's where you meet your first friends. I had to start my first year of Daniel D. Waterman School in the first grade. This is the worst possible grade to start. My sister was lucky enough to start in third grade, but I didn't realize she was lucky at the time. You see, by the time you are in third grade, there is a good chance you know most of your classmates and you are sick of them. A new student is a breath of fresh air. A new student in first grade is an intruder. In my case, a weird intruder. "Does he honestly think he is funny?" "What's wrong with you?" But it's ok at that time, because no one is smart enough to start little societies yet. It's not until the leap to middle school where things begin to change. That's when The Rules take effect. We don't know who created these rules. We have men working on it. But I do in fact know the story of the first person to write them, and I'd like to share that now.
In the beginning, there was Kent, England. And within this town lived two boys, Michael and Steven. Michael was a creative young child, Steven was a studious pursuer of academia. It was perhaps for this reason that Steven found Michael unlikeable. So he would tell Michael "Yes, you can sing and draw, but can you name everyone in the Queen’s bloodline? I didn’t think so? No one wants to hear from you. Just shut your stupid mouth." The masses didn't know what to think. Is Steven right? Does Michael have a stupid mouth? There were no societies. No order. Chaos reigned in Mrs. Wilbur's seventh grade class. Michael didn’t like the fact that Steven simply didn’t like him because he was more creative than academic. He thought that Steven wouldn’t like it if things were flipped. Until one day, where Michael had a vision. A vision that would provider order in the midst of destruction. He envisioned...The Rules. He wrote them, and brought them to the class. He presented them on two stone tablets, and there was a fire in his voice as he proclaimed these rules of society. The class was in awe, and they parted two different sides of the room. They knew where they were supposed to be now, because Michael would lead the way. From that day forward, Michael had the world at his fingertips, while Steven was nothing more than a crapface. And just what happened to Sir Michael Phillip "Mick" Jager? I think history tells us the rest.