Another vintage shot, Mrs. Tarbrake's class

English 1963 - with Nellie Tarbrake
Originally uploaded by Brite Lights photos.

JAMESTOWN, NY - I missed the Tarbrake experience in 9th grade. I had Mrs. Pascuillo (sp?) who was quite pleasant, though not nearly as supportive as a Mr. Coleman from 8th grade.

Mr. Coleman was really into fiction and whatever I wrote, he praised highly and made me read for the entire class. He only lasted a year or two, I believe. Although not a very large fellow, he had a grip like a vise and more than one male in the class felt Mr. Coleman's hand on the back of their neck if they were not paying attention. One fellow - I can only remember that his first name was Ralph - got his face smashed down on the surface of the desk when he muttered 'asshole' in reference to Mr. Coleman, not knowing Coleman was standing right behind him.

Ralph left class with a bloody nose and I'm not sure Mr. Coleman was there the next fall.

But neither was Ralph.

I don't remember what we read in 9th grade, certainly no Shakespeare. In fact, I'm not sure I remember reading any Shakespeare in high school. Villanova required reading most of Shakespeare's plays, four or five per semester. No wonder I wanted to drop out and go to Mexico.

And writing essays that year with a ball point pen! I hated (and hate) writing anything with a pen, other than taking notes. When I was a junior in high school, after completing Mrs. King's typing class, my mother bought me a typewriter and the rest is history. Gawd that typing class was awful, too, but to this day I can type like a demon if I need to. I remember taking a speed reading class, too. That class was useful in the long run. Just yesterday I had to write a 500-word story about a 40-page report on student enrollments at California colleges. I scanned the report and did my 500 words in under an hour. Later this morning I'll read it to see if it makes any sense.

Today's song is one of the sillier ones we heard in 1963. But damn, I actually remember most of the lyrics.

Tie Me Kangaroo Down Sport
by Rolf Harris

SPOKEN:
There's an old Australian stockman lying, dying. He gets himself up
onto one elbow and 'e turns to his mates, who are all gathered around and 'e says:

Watch me wallabies feed, mate
Watch me wallabies feed,
They're a dangerous breed, mate
So watch me wallabies feed
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

Keep me cockatoo cool, Curl,
Keep me cockatoo cool
Ah, don't go acting the fool, Curl
Just keep me cockatoo cool
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

'n' take me koala back, Jack
Take me koala back
He lives somewhere out on the track, Mac
So take me koala back
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

Let me abos go loose, Lew
Let me abos go loose
They're of no further use, Lew
So let me abos go loose
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

And mind me platypus duck, Bill
Mind me platypus duck
Ah, don't let 'im go running amok, Bill
Just mind me platypus duck
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

Play your didgeridoo, Blue
Play your didgeridoo
Ah, like, keep playin' 'til I shoot thru, Blue
Play your didgeridoo
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down

Tan me hide when I'm dead, Fred
Tan me hide when I'm dead
So we tanned his hide when he died, Clyde
And that's it hangin' on the shed!!
Altogether now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down
Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Tie me kangaroo down