Jerry Couchman was my archenemy. He was a class clown. He was a smart assed kid. He was loud and obnoxious. He was the boy version of me. I hated that he could wiggle his ears. And big ears they were, accentuated by his crew cut.
That year my favorite show was Star Trek. The original Star Trek. Not that mamby pamby spinoff Next Generation. Not Deep Space Nine. The Enterprise fashioned from a flashlight and a paper plate.
I was enamored of Mr. Spock. He had the ability to Not Feel. He did not care if no one wanted to play with him at recess. He didn’t get spankings or feel remorse at his misgivings. He certainly was not Stupid. He was smart. Smarter even, maybe, than my grampa. He could raise one eyebrow to indicate that you, clearly, were Wrong. The single eyebrow raise that I now use to indicate my feeling that you are full of shit. I gave that look to the school photographer that year, and later on to Santa Claus.
But those ears! If I had ears like that, no amount of wiggling would trump. Jerry Couchman could eat it. And thus I sat day after day at my desk, two unsharpened pencils, writing ends standing on the desk top, eraser ends tucked firmly into the top fold of my outer ear, my head and gravity providing the resistance that would eventually create the points.
A short attention span does not lend itself to the time consuming task of changing the shape of one’s ears, and I gave up. I can wiggle my ears now, though. And raise Both eyebrows individually, rapidly even, forming a wave.
So eat it, Jerry Couchman.
"Many myths are based on truth, captain."
- - Spock, on the existence of Eden in the episode, "The Way to Eden".
- - Spock, on the existence of Eden
