In September 1956 I began high school as a freshman. I had taken algebra in summer school, and passed with an "A", so by the time I reached high school I felt like I already knew what I was doing in algebra. My friend Darla and I had been loyal little league fans, cheering for the boys we had crushes on, but it soon became evident that the guy I liked, Ronnie, didn't know I was alive. So when I entered my new algebra class and was assigned a seat between two very cute boys, I decided I needed to make them notice me. And so, I became the class clown.
The boy I was primarily interested in, Robbie, had dark hair, blue eyes and freckles across his noes. I had no clue what he was like other than being very cute. The other boy, Stan, was blonde, blue eyed, and more interested in cars than he ever would be with girls. I sat in between these two boys.
Our teacher, a lovable old man who probably should have retired a few years before my arrival, had no control over the class. The prisoners had taken over the jail.
One of my first moves to get everyone's attention was to climb upon my desk and do a tap dance in the middle of the algebra class. I received cheers, cat calls and lots of applause. I took a bow and did an encore. I had the attention of everyone, even Robbie.