Let me fire another salvo at the whole power-of-words commentary… It started here.
Last weekend I was doing nine hours of penance in the Drew Central Auditorium for my sins over the last year… Ok, actually I was filming Kim’s Dance Factory’s two recitals. They are 2.5 – 3.5 hour fiestas that thrill the heart and soul of anyone with estrogen. Every other man there, however… well, nuff said. Me, I was making money, so it was tolerable.
Anyway, in the middle of the first recital, I realized an important mistake that I’d made. I made the same one the year before. People who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it. I drank bottle of Diet Coke at the beginning of the afternoon’s recital. About an hour and 45 minutes into it, I became disconcertingly aware that if it the recital didn’t end soon that I would die of a bladder explosion. I couldn’t get up; I was behind the camera. Like I said, penance.
At the conclusion of that first recital, I waddled my way as quickly as I dared down to the bathroom. What I found in there (after relief) was rather humorous. Sam (our 9 year-old) along with 3-4 other 3rd grade boys were coming out of a stall together. Sam’s friend Dallas, who talks in jet plane level decibels all them time was informing the state…
"Wow! I can’t believe it! That one had all of them!"
I had no idea… but the next blasts solved the immediate riddle..
"The A- word, the D- word, the S- word, and even… the F- word!"
They were all apparently inscribed in Stall #2. And the 3rd Grade Graffitti Gazers had inspected each and every stall.
Great, just great, I thought. Just what I wanted my third-grader exposed to. Potty profanity.
I instructed the boys to get out of the bathroom, and began walking out. As I followed them out, I heard Dallas mutter, "I wonder who Mr. Simmons is? I’d sure hate to be him…"
Note to the Drew Central Janitorial Staff: Please clean the stalls in the men’s bathroom in the lobby of the auditorium. And tell Mr. Simmons that he has been defamed there.