I don't even know why this lady crossed my mind this morning. Lord knows that I haven't seen her since high school. She was my junior year English teacher, Mrs. Rice. And I don't know if she hated all teenage boys. But I guarantee you that she did not like me.

Now in her defense, I was a hormonal teenage boy who had his own car and spent most of my time trying to get girls to notice me and take one of them to the Twilight Drive-In.

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That Damned Wilson Kid

The period when I had English was in the afternoon. And CMR High School was a non-airconditioned brick structure. So I'm sure that the classroom temperature didn't help her disposition.

And one particular day she apparently had heard enough of my nonsense. And she chastised me in front of my classmates. And when you're kind of shy, like I was in those days, getting your least favorite teacher's undivided attention is horrifying.

She said something to the effect of "Mr. Wilson. You'd better figure out what your life's path is going to be. You can't pay the bills by telling jokes and being a smart ass".

Little Did She Know

Dear Mrs. Rice, just dropping you a little note to let you know about my career. I've made my living doing things that annoyed you. Along the way, my job has taken me to Mexico double-digit times. And I've had the opportunity to visit almost every Caribbean country.

It turns out that getting a D in Junior English doesn't mean your life won't turn out great.

Sincerely,

That damned Wilson kid.

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