In Trouble Again

 

July 9, 2020



The only real trouble I had in school happened when I wasn't paying attention.

This might occur in the spring of the year, when a young boy's fancy turns to anything but the three R's. Sometimes the winter gets boring, and it's easier to think about basketball games than it is to concentrate on schoolwork. Then there's autumn, my favorite time of the year – not because school has started, but because football games and hunting seasons are underway. How can a person concentrate on schoolwork with those distractions?

I would sometimes get punished in school for not paying attention. I remember once in Parochial school being asked by my teacher, Miss Ulbricht, if I was sleeping. I was definitely in a far-away place, but technically not asleep.

"No ma'am," I replied. "I'm just concentrating on the assignment."

"Really? What's the answer to the question then," she asked.

That's when the trouble began. If I gave a wrong answer, I'd be chastised. If I gave the right answer, it would be pure luck since I didn't know there even was a question. Oh well, what's the worst that could happen, I thought.


"Could you repeat the question please?"

Teachers can tell you a lot without saying anything. It didn't matter if I knew the answer or not – I was in trouble.

In Parochial school, you would know if you were in trouble by the teacher's eyes. She would glare at you, then point at the chalk board. You would get up, sign your name on the board and miss the next recess. To make matters worse, you would be given chores or extra reading during that time. Then, when school was over, you were handed a note to give to your parents. Cruel punishment indeed!


My classroom attention span didn't improve when I got to high school. I had a different teacher for every class and they all had ways of dealing with day-dreamers. I would usually slouch down in my chair hoping the teacher wouldn't call on me. When they would, I tried to give an answer – providing I was even paying attention and heard the question.

One time in English class I got caught not paying attention to our teacher, Mr. Ottavi, who threatened to send me to the principal's office if it happened again. The next day, I decided to sit up straight and pay attention. Since English was one of my better subjects, I hoped the teacher would call on me. He called on me often and I answered correctly every time. After that, I was able to slouch, day-dream more often and was never sent to the principal's office.

I admit there were times when I should have paid more attention when I entered the workforce as an adult. I started working at a pre-fab housing company in Spirit Lake building roof trusses that needed to fit on top of wall panels that were being assembled in the next room. I would build them on tables and loaded them onto carts after they were assembled. Some of the work was pretty repetitious. Once while trimming the plywood off a gable-end truss, I was running a router and allowing the scraps to fall on the floor. I wasn't paying attention while stepping over these scraps. My shoelace caught a piece of plywood that was wedged against a table leg, and I tripped and fell down hard on my elbow. That was my first broken bone, coincidentally happening in springtime.

Missteps didn't just happen to me at work, they also happened when I was enjoying leisure activities. One time while hunting with my brother, Keith, I shot a duck he had missed. The duck landed on the ice and I was pretty proud of the shot I made. Keith had a dog with him, but I decided to retrieve the duck myself since it was pretty close to me. I started walking on the ice, not paying attention to the muskrat huts sticking out of the frozen surface. I walked next to one and fell straight down, then lost my balance. I stuck my shotgun in the water to keep upright, but then both my shotgun and my clothes were wet. The car was a mile away and the temperature was below zero.

"You have to pay attention to muskrat huts," Keith chided as his dog retrieved the duck. "They are never completely frozen."

Recently I got caught not paying attention to my wife, Rita. She is a vice president at a local bank, so I trust her to take care of our finances. I operate a small lawn business and there are always decisions to be made when it comes to paying bills and billing customers. Often, though, she thinks these decisions need to be made while I'm watching a ballgame or movie. Once while watching a basketball game, she said something to me and I smiled and nodded. I guess she thought I was hard of hearing because she asked if I heard what she said.

If I said I didn't hear, I'd be chastised. If I said I did hear, I'd be expected to know what she was asking. Oh well, what's the worst that could happen, I thought. "Could you repeat the question please?"

Wives can tell you a lot without saying anything. That look in Rita's eyes gave me the answer to my question – I was in trouble again!

Roger Brockshus is retired and lives in Spirit Lake. Besides writing, he keeps busy with a small lawn business and also volunteers in his church and community. When it works out, Roger and his wife, Rita, enjoy spending time with their family.

 
 

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