Sometimes a Game of Numbers

Today I was reminded of an incident which happened

To me some fifty-three years ago when I was a junior in

High school. My counselor called me into his office, and

Stern-faced had me take a seat. He proceeded to explain

Why I would not be graduating to my senior year in the

Fall, continuing on to the punchline that I would be held

Back to repeat the year I had just been through. After

Having endured the traumatic breakup of my family, the

Uprooting to a new city and attendance at two different

Schools, I was not in the mood to submit to his unaccep-

Table disposition. “No, I will not!” I told him in the most

Defiant tone I could muster at the time. “I’m afraid you

Have no choice in this matter; you will be taking your

Junior year over,” he restated emphatically. I jumped out

Of my chair, red-faced on fire and yelled, “Like hell!” I

Then stormed out of school, never to return, never to

Attend a prom, a commencement ceremony nor a class

Reunion. At the time, I left that school fuming, without

Being able to mathematically formulate the square

Root of anything. But I never looked back. So, you may

Be asking yourself, what does this have to do with any-

Thing? Well, I’ll tell you. In a little over a month, I’ll be

Turning Seventy. And unless that school counselor hasn’t

Yet reached the age of a hundred or greater, more than

Than likely, he’s already dead. In any case, he will not be

Made to endure the degrading proposition of a “do-over”

Either. And with regards to doing basic math, sometimes in

Life the numbers add up; sometimes, who in hell even cares?

Chris Hanch 2-24-17