Thank you. Mrs. Frederickson, my sixth grade English teacher thanks you. I remember those tortured hours at the blackboard trying to diagram sentences. Jeanie could always do them properly. “This is a predicate nominative.” Oh, how I longed to know what a predicate nominative was. I’m sure that kept me out of Yale. That and my criminal record. And paragraphs! When should you start a new paragraph? A new thought? A new subject? A new car? I just threw that last one in. I blame my public school education. I blame bullying. I blame global warming. Jeanie turned out to be quite beautiful as well as knowing what a predicate nominative was. I’d like to tell you that Jeanie and I were married and lived happily ever after, but she married a lawyer. I guess he knew what a predicate nominative was. Me? I hold the record at Free Republic for being called a fool. Eh.....it’s a record.
Fool!
Great writing! My hat’s off to you, if I had a hat on. Bravo, Bravo.
I had a 6th grade teacher named Mrs. Frederickson (actually, her name was Moya Feeney before she married Alec Frederickson). Did you go to Boone Elementary?