You Are What They Served in the Cafeteria

One of the things that I remember from junior high for some reason is that a bunch of ducks is actually called, well, a bunch of ducks. Other than that, I don'’t remember much. In all these years, I have never had to solve for x, dissect a frog, or climb to the top of a rope. I'’ve never had occasion to translate from English to Latin, or Latin to English, except for the last episode of Sports Night (Quo Vadimus, Where Are We Going). I had to reread The Catcher in The Rye years later to figure out what the hell it was about (Holden'’s nuts) and if Shakespeare wasn'’t gay why was he writing sonnets to a guy? When I came across my old protractor and compass a couple weeks ago, I realized that since the last day of geometry class I'’ve never once had to draw a perfect circle. I guess all that I remember about junior high was that it was fun, so much fun. Go figure.