—First Lessons in Georgia History, 1913 

Dear Dixie,

I’m yakking about something about Georgia history and say the word hell in a sentence and I wasn’t talking about heaven or hell or purgatory or anything.  I actually cussed without thinking.  So they go nuts about it and I just get up without saying another word and start to walk out. 

They can’t believe it.  Somebody screams … He’s kicking himself out!  Throw the chicken at him!

I am kicking myself out.  I really am.  I walk out and close the door behind me and turn around and make a sad face through the window and then walk across the hall toward the benches.  I’m already exhausted.

Already on one of the benches is a seventh grader named Mink who was in a lot of trouble at the first of the year ... and then he calmed down for a few weeks ... and now I’ve been getting the feeling lately that Mink’s cranking it back up again for a big end-of-days-Great Revival-apocalyptic-wrath-of-God hell raising.

He looks up at me and says he’s taking a self-time-out.

I said good for you.  A mature decision.  I sat down.

Mink looks at me and then he sees ten kids gawking at me through the window of The Cozy Room of Learning door and then he looks back at me.  Mink asks what the heck are you doing out here.

I told him I kicked myself out of class.

Mink asked if I was kidding.

I said nope.  I told Mink I just said a cuss word in class and I felt like I should kick my own teacher ass out of class since I've been kicking a lot of them out lately for cussing.  They've been using the S-word a lot and very professionally, too.  They're real good at it.

Mink gave me a funny look.  He said he’s never heard of that before.  A teacher kicking his own ass out of class.  Shit, man.

Lamely, I smiled at him. 

Then we both took a deep breath and blew it out at exactly the same time.

Next Entry ... November 30: A Raising Of Hell