I was one of those good kids that never got in trouble. I was also one of the smartest in elementary school. Here’s how I know:

 In first grade, I took an aptitude test to skip second grade. Penny Robinson and I both took the test. She scored higher than I by one point. On one question, the adults marked it wrong, but I still think it was an acceptable answer. The question was: Find the smaller word in “LAMP.” I wrote “AMP.” Penny wrote “AM.” I saw the word AMP on a gauge on the dashboard of my dad’s car, an abbreviation for AMPERES. AMP is a smaller word in LAMP and should have been accepted as an answer. (At every gig, I also take My Fender AMP to amplify my guitar.) When they showed me that the answer was AM, they also asked, “Don’t you think AM is a better answer?” I said, “No.” They should have accepted both answers. But really, they should have written a better test question. (I also know that, too, because I wrote and edited the State Achievement Tests for California, grades K-8, for three years.) Penny got to skip second grade; I had to do the time, but I made the best of it.

In fifth grade, I got my first and only citation from a schoolyard proctor. We used to play a game called “Dog Pile.” One kid was designated “IT” and threw himself to the ground, and then the rest of the kids would dog pile onto him as he struggled to breathe and stay alive. What a great game! Of course, since we were having fun and the game put our lives in danger, the proctor wrote citations for everyone. There is no justice in elementary school.

I had to give the citation to my dad and he had to sign it. I was soooo nervous about showing it to my dad. I had never been in trouble. So, I worked up my courage and gave it to him. He looked at it and looked at me and asked me if it was a fun game. I said, “Yes.” And that was the end of the discussion. No penalties. No punishments. No warnings to never pay Dog Pile again.

On a totally random topic: When the principal took my citation the next day, I noticed that he wrote on it using a Bic Crystal pen. For some reason, I was captured by the design and look of this pen. As a teacher, these were the pens I chose to pass out to each of my classes as a free supply from me.

I got in trouble (kind of) for kissing my girlfriend during recess in high school, but I didn’t consider myself a child anymore, and since the title of this chapter is “Trouble as a Child” it does not apply. Besides, I knew what I was doing and took the risk.

(Pictured: Me in elementary school, 1960.)