One of my reasons for creating my website in addition to marketing my Invention, was to give me a way to express myself to the world.  One of the Coolest things about starting your own business is to be able to take Creative License with it.  I am a very passionate and sensitive person.  My Family, Friends and many others can attest to this.  These traits have shaped me at the core, but they have also gotten me into trouble, many times.  I hope you enjoy my story about getting into trouble with my 4th Grade Teacher, Miss Taylor.

Mrs. Miller Picked Me up in her Big Yellow Schoolbus, about 7:30 that morning.  Mrs. Miller pulled up on the paved, country road in front of the house my Parents had moved there from Roswell New Mexico, (Read my previous posts) and had been working on.  Mrs. Miller gave me a big smile as she pulled the handle and the doors on the bus opened up.  I scampered up the big black rubbery steps and I introduced myself to Mrs. Miller.  I felt embarrassed when all the children on the full bus were looking me over. I didn’t know anyone on the bus that first day, when I started the 4th Grade at Eugene Field Elementary.  I had to make my walk down the aisle with my new starchy, not broken in, uncomfortable school clothes and all those inquisitive, curious eyes on me.  I was the newest Pupil on Mrs. Miller’s rural bus route.  I made my way back into the full bus and found a seat next to a boy who looked to be about the same age as I was.  His name was Danny Treadway.  We became friends as the years passed by.  The Bus took us to Eugene Field, dropped us off and I was trying to find my way up the big, wide sidewalk into the entrance of the old, 2 story Red Brick Schoolhouse.  I remember walking down the wide, halls of the building and making my way to the ancient, worn, weathered staircase that took me to the second floor.  As I made my way to the staircase, I remember seeing School Accolades and other framed official looking documents placed up high on the walls.  I realize now they were placed there on purpose.  Just high enough so that curious, young little hands like mine were just not quite able to reach them and dislodge them from their assigned places.  

            I found my classroom and made my way in.  Young Boys and Girls chattering away and making their way into their assigned seats with their names on them.  I did not recognize one face in there that morning.  I started looking for my name and came to realize they were in alphabetical order.  I found my desk at the back end of the aisles of nicked up, heavy wood desks. I noticed the handwriting on the card with my name was in a Beautiful, Cursive style that made me comfortable and curious when I turned it over in my hand.   I looked around again and I was wondering where our teacher, Miss Taylor was?  From my vantage point I could see all the faces of my fellow students and I was trying to surmise who was who and what they were like. 

As I was looking out across our classroom, all the heads turned, the chatter suddenly stopped and Miss Taylor walked in…

       I was mesmerized from the Get–Go.  She made her way to the front of her desk, stood straight and tall, looked out among all of us, flicked back her long, Brunette Tresses and hit us all with a Gorgeous Smile.  She introduced herself to all of us.  My heart started beating faster, as I fell over the edge into an Absolute, Bonifide, 4th Grade Crush…  With my Teacher…

            Wow!! I could not believe it…  My 4th grade at Eugene Elementary had already started out so much better than I was expecting.  As the day passed, I found myself less concerned with my fellow students and more attentive to trying to let Miss Taylor know I was there at the end of the row and listening to her every word with an ear to ear grin on my face.  By the end of the day I had already decided that I was going to marry Miss Taylor someday. 

            After that first day of school, every bit of my attention was on trying to please Miss Taylor and to do my best to let her know Steven Madrid was one of her best students.  I tried with my eyes to let Miss Taylor know that we would be betrothed someday and that it would only be a matter of time until that day would come.  I loved school.  My first report card came out and it had all A’s on it, except for one B in Math, my hardest subject.  I was in my desk every morning with my hair combed into Curly  perfection and my school clothes arranged just so, to impress Miss Taylor.  My 4th Grade School Year that started in August of 1967 was Dizzy, Wonderful and filled with my first experience of Deep, Sparkling, To the Bones–Infatuation.  I woke up every morning ready to be in class and imagining all the time me and Miss Taylor would spend together in our future together.  

            That all changed on the day Miss Taylor introduced someone New to our Class. It was a crisp, bright, late Winter, early Spring morning that 4Th Grade school year.   I Remember coming into class, putting my books in the bin below my seat and looking up to suddenly find someone I had never seen before leaning on Miss Taylor’s desk.  He seemed like a nice Guy, looking out over all of us with a shiny, bright smile.  I started wondering who he was and why he was here at the start of our day?  Mr. Ross, the Principal of the school started giving his announcements for the day over the intercom speaker up on the wall behind Miss Taylor’s desk.  After Mr. Ross finished his intercom address, we all put our hands over our hearts, looked at the United States Flag in the corner and recited the Pledge of Allegiance. When we started the Pledge of Allegiance, the guy at the front of the desk worked his way a little closer to Miss Taylor.  I actually saw him get close enough to her that their shoulders actually touched.  My radar went up immediately!!  Who was this –NOW– GEEKY, STRANGE Looking Guy getting too close to my Dream Lady??  Why was he getting so comfortable with Miss Taylor?  Who was he?  Why was he here?  I sat down in my desk after we finished and then my world was achingly turned upside down!!

               Miss Taylor went on to explain to the class that this Young Man here with us today was her Fiancee …

Wait a Minute Now…  Fiancee ??  What does that mean again?  I thought I remembered hearing it before, but I was still a little confused.  Then Miss Taylor lovingly put her arm around him and went on to inform us that he was the man she would be marrying soon. 

His NOW — Big, Toothy, Goofy Looking Grin immediately bore into me.  Then, I found my eyes sending back as much searing pain as I could emanate.  I found myself unsure if I was hearing things right.  Fiancee? Marrying soon??  After a few minutes he actually hugged her, kissed her on the cheek and waved to all of us as he made his way out of our classroom.  I was dumbfounded.  How could this be??  How could Miss Taylor dismiss all I felt for her??  I was supposed to marry her. So what, if that was going to be after I finished Elementary School, Junior High, High School, College…  That did not matter. Miss Taylor and I were supposed to spend our Happily Ever After together.  That was the first dark day of my 4th Grade Winter/Spring of Discontent. 

            I remember leaning my head into the glass window and staring out at the dreary, dismal, rain soaked streets from the school bus as Mrs. Miller started dropping us off at the end of the day.  I had to wrench myself from my seat when the bus stopped at my house.  I saw Mrs. Miller looking at me from her big rearview mirror as I made my way to the front doors.  She had a look of concern as she bid me goodbye and I failed to respond in my happy, optimistic way.  Mrs. Miller did not know that my heart had been torn from its’ sockets and that I was now grieving.  Whatever I did, for many days, I could not shake myself from the paralyzing Pain, Miss Taylor had inflicted upon me.  That was when my grief began changing to disbelief.  Disbelief that Miss Taylor could BETRAY me.  I found myself disinterested in school.  My grades begin to slide.  My attention span wandered to the trees leaning with the early Spring winds from side to side, outside of our classroom windows.  Every day after that, I was watching their green, growing, early spring sprouts coming alive.  I could not control my curt responses when I found it necessary to communicate directly with Miss Taylor.  I saw the concern in her countenance, but I did not care, this was her doing, not mine. 

            My Grades took a dive and my Parents were concerned when my third report card came out.  I shrugged my shoulders indifferently when My Mom and Dad began peppering me with questions about the changes.  They let me know that my grades had better improve the next time—Or Else…  Too, Bad, So Sad…  I did not care.  Mom and Dad were not aware of Miss Taylor’s Betrayal.  It all finally came to a tragic, shocking conclusion for me about 2 or 3 weeks later.  I was sitting in class in my now lackadaisical, deep stupor.  As Miss Taylor was droning on about something to our class, I decided it was time to show just how much I did not care anymore.  Again, I was in the last desk of the row of desks I was in.  Being at the very back of class, I found it advantageous for my sneaky plan.  I found a piece of paper and with my hands shielding what I was writing, I wrote down I AM DUMB.  I then turned it over and opened the lid of my Paddle Paste Container.  With the Paddle attached to the lid, I scooped out a heaping Gob of gooey paste and slathered the back of my paper with it.  The boy who sat in front of me was named Aarron.  I’ll never forget that.  Two A’s, two R’s. Then as I surveyed the class in front of me and saw no one noticing my mayhem, I slapped Aaron on the back with it.  Aarron turned to me with a confused look on his face.  I looked into his eyes, smiled and waved at him as I said. “Hi Aarron”?  He turned back around with an irritated, confused look on his face.  Then I sat back in my desk, let out a contented sigh, and I did something, I still to this day– do not know—how??

I Forgot about It.

I literally forgot about what I had just done to Aarron.   A few minutes later at break I was in the boy’s bathroom, relieving myself at the row of shiny white Urinals in there.  I was completely oblivious to the chain of events that I had started that would soon unravel pain, embarrassment, shock and confusion into my 4th grade life.  

      Miss Taylor stormed into that boys bathroom, found me at the Urinals, and Bee Lined her way up to my left side and yanked me up onto my toes by my left ear.  I barely had time to zip my pants up, as I was trying to keep up with her as I was being dragged from that bathroom.  Miss Taylor was mumbling something unintelligible that I could not understand.  I just knew I was in Big Time Trouble.  As my ear was about to be torn from my head, I stumbled down the steps of the old staircase with her, and I found myself being roughly shuffled into the Principal’s Office.  Mr. Ross was incredulous as Miss Taylor spilled the beans on me.  She glared at me with red, scary eyes, as she sternly closed the door to Mr. Ross’s office as she left. 

     Mr. Ross then made me assume the position.  I had to put my hands on his desk, lean over and brace myself.  Then Mr. Ross Twhacked me Twice with his big Oak Paddle!!  How? I don’t know, but I managed to not cry.  I think I was in embarrassed shock.  I made my shameful return to class and I tried to avoid everyone’s eyes as I, with searing embarrassment and stinging buns, gingerly sat down in my desk.  I don’t know how I got through that afternoon. That was a very bad day.  Not only what happened at school, but when I got home as well.  I had to carry in the note that Mr. Ross had given me that needed my Parent’s signature.  My Parents read the note and gave me their incredulous stares and endless questions with raised voices.  My head was dejectedly turned to the floor, when I remember hearing the belt from my Dad’s pants, Whisk… its release from his belt loops.  This time, my tears poured as my Dad gave me two cracking, lashes with that belt.  I remember lying in bed that night, trying to understand what had happened on that fateful day.  It was not my fault, was all I could think.  Miss Taylor, even if she did not know it, was the one who had made all of this happen. 

            I returned to school the next day, changed gears and found my focus.  My grades improved for the rest of that year, but my pining for Miss Taylor was difficult to bear.  The days passed and my indiscretions passed into Eugene Field School Daze History.  Miss Taylor, or whatever your name is now, if you are still out there somewhere, please know that what I did that day, was the result of my falling over the edge because I was truly mesmerized by You.  Even though you shattered my heart into a million, little pieces…  I forgive You.  Please Forgive Me… Steven…   

Miss Taylor would be around 76 years old today if the Universe has been kind to her.  She’s probably still Pretty today…  

Maybe some day, I’ll try to figure out where she lives.  I’ll walk up her lovely sidewalk, climb the steps onto her porch, and ring her doorbell.  She’ll come to the door and then after I introduce myself to her, and jog her memory of who I am and what happened on that awful day.  She’ll look at me with startled eyes, after I explain because she’ll remember the incident vividly.  I’ll remind her though, that what happened that shocking day, was not my fault…

It was her Fault… But when I leave… she’ll give me a loving hug and a smoochy kiss on my cheek.  I’ll show off the red lipstick to my Wife Lupe and I’ll tell her that she’s lucky that I didn’t end up marrying Miss Taylor.

If Your deep felt Passion and Sensitivity gets you into trouble like mine did, just remember to…

“Lean, Lock and Roll into it”.  Steven…