I REMEMBER THE DAYS– Freddy Howard Bensalem Class of 1986


letters

I told you Scott, if you ever found a good photo I would place you on the cover of my first novel like you wanted. Good job Marine.
You shall NEVER be forgotten.
R.I.P.

PS

I told ya bro– all good.

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I REMEMBER THE DAYS

By Freddy Howard

Bensalem Class of 1986

I remember the days if a you were going to get a call from a girlfriend at a certain time, then you had to rush home and make sure no one was on the phone.
This of course always inevitably led to a fight with your brother or sister who was somehow MAD DOGGIN on a blockade mission to destroy what little idea of a love life you thought you had at 13.
No worries, because then came the cordless phone. You could now shadow their every move as they walked around the house with the phone trying to piss under your skin even more…

But then came that super portable bag phone (in the 80’s… which became extinct after 3 years) that you could charge and talk for about an hour unless you plugged it in your cigarette lighter (My 1987 Chevy Camaro, thank you very much)

But then…. ahhhh!!! Came the call waiting (actually it came before… much before… but you see where I’m going with the analogy… catch the drift).

Now there was a little more wiggle room here, with this call waiting thing. The only problem was that you would have to stand there and make sure when the girl (or guy) called, your knuckle head brother or sister would answer because it signified their time was up on the phone and you found yourself standing in their door way

(Remember you were prohibited on pain of an ass whipping for stepping across that imaginary line. Yes!! Ass whippings by your moms, dads, grandparents and sometimes their close friends were legal back then)

Only the Brady Bunch taught us otherwise– just ask James… JJ’s father on Good Times

(Do you remember those shows?)

Okay, test question. DO YOU REMEMBER SATURDAY MORNING CARTOONS??

If you answered no to one of the above it probably means you would be seeking therapy if you couldn’t get a replacement cell phone in 24 hours.

Moving right along here…
Any one of my BENSALEM HIGH SCHOOL MATES who went to Samuel K. Faust Elementary, Neil Armstrong Middle or Benjamin Rush could easily recall the infamous DEATH CAMPS politically called DETENTION!!!! (Especially at Cecelia Snyder Middle School… the equivalent to Auschwitz) Uhhmm… yep…they could attest to some of the haywire shit that happened back when we actually had SMOKE BREAKS in high school (The 80’s… Maddonna was queen then and the BREAKFAST CLUB WAS REAL).

And teachers could tell you they were gonna be “CRACKING SKULLS MISTER” and it wasn’t meant literally (like “Peeling back your grape cap” or any ICE CUBE literal gangsta lingo like TODAY).

It only meant– “Listen, nimrod– you want to pass? Then put in 100% and if you only make 65 on the test but you tried (and you weren’t the class ass), I’ll float the 5% pass so we don’t dance again next year– and maybe even talk to your math teacher– my friend… deal?”

(And, no, teachers weren’t charged under the Federal  RICO statutes for making those kinds of deals with students back then)

Oh– and the CRACKING SKULLS MISTER thing– teachers wouldn’t serve fifty years in prison for terroristic threats either for saying that (It was a FRIGGIN  METAPHOR you turd)

Also, it was OK for your football coach to grab you by the face mask and walk you around the football field a bit because you kept screwing up the play. He could make you run a hundred hills to make you better and he wasn’t going to be “UNDER INVESTIGATION and SUSPENDED” because he SINGLED YOU OUT and he would not get sued for causing you PTSD as a result of some good old fashioned discipline.

(Yes, there was a time when the football coach was the unofficial king of the school, respected, whether or not the team had a winning season)

It was just tough love and it worked. He wasn’t going to be fired for assault, he just wanted you to make the team, he wanted to make you a winner.

My Bensalem High School mates were there and they sure as shit remember Mr. Cory and his “HIS & HERS” paddles in middle school

(Yes… girls were fair game too… Pennsylvania was a corporal punishment state… the teacher could f__#$%^ you up too, so long as they didn’t kill you, and you were a true A-HOLE and deserved any lesson you got… and they would too… just before your mom and dad did a second round on your drug addicted, disruptive *^%^ when you got home after hiding out in your friend’s room for three days missing…

Remember those friends??

No more friends like that around anymore. Today they’d dime you out faster than a fly can suck on some fresh cat shit (And they suck suck fast too).

The choice in middle school for acting like an ass-clown was a hard swat on the butt or two days in detention.

Most kids in Snyder chose the detention for good reason (That reason was Mr. Cory and his OFFICIAL SCHOOL TITLE– DISCIPLINARIAN)

And oh yea… back then a cop wouldn’t stoop so low as to lead a kindergartner out of the school in handcuffs for tugging on Suzy’s hair– that was NOT the local news.

Oh yea, I almost forgot… we were talking about the phone thing…

Continuing…

What sucked about the bag phone was even back then it cost you 60 cents a minute without roaming charges and a $1.20 outside your small geographic empire. I say empire because it was your world back then if you could afford one of these dinosaurs.

But it was all good, because LL COOL J took us a step further when he was spotted in one of his videos (or was it a movie??) talking on that wireless brick thing phone atrocity which looked like a satchel charge of C-4 explosive (remember that sh__i&%?).
but OK..

We all got wise and realized that $1.20 per minute was high in 1988, even by 2013 pricing standards. It was definitely for the ballers and businessmen.

So eventually we graduated in about 1993 to flip phones and pagers. Now, we are moving on up to the big time but I’ll let one of my other brothers or sisters from the 80’s finish here–I wasn’t gonna even touch the ATARI and PAC-MAN THING.

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Once upon a time there were 2 trolls… but this was not always so….


… because as we sat at dinner I decided to change them back into the two vain egg-heads so I could try and make more sense of what they were trying to school  me in (one is an aspiring actor, the other is– yep, you guessed it. An aspiring actress). Here’s the scoop in a love letter to whoever wants to read it….

Well, I would like to take this opportunity to thank the 2 trolls (husband and wife team) who I’ll politely refer to as Romeo & Jewels (Barbie & Ken for the more contemporary Hollywood folks) who, before offering up their strong opinion, made me a strong pitch to author their own frictional, true love story (no, frictional is not a type o– because that was exactly the atmosphere as I was pretending to enjoy my soup).

Yea, I know, Gag me with a roach’s egg (hold the mayonnaise please). 

Yep. So that’s what this high end restaurant is all about– always a catch!

Their opinion was that I should price my soon to be released e-book, LUKE 11:24, at more than .99 cents. I mean, they are going to price their e-book edition at $15.99 because they have 2 IMDb- ( Z movies mind you) credits, Yippie ky yi yaaa…so what!!).

I mean and they clearly have my best interest in mind when they tell me I am going to DE-VALUE the work of other authors and ISOLATE myself from the MAJOR PUBLISHERS. Umm…  well, looks like the MAJOR PUBLISHERS have already done a good enough job of doing just that for themselves (thus, SELF PUBLISHING– AKA people power on display).

Hmmm– OK. Well, I say if I really wanted to get in on the ground floor and catch this popping isolate train they’re whispering about, I would stand in front of the Amazon Headquarters in a clown’s suit, break dance, and then hold up a sign which reads… “BUY MY .99 CENT E-BOOK FOR A HUNDRED DOLLARS!!”

 Now that is what I would call isolating.

And so once upon a time ends with happily ever after, as the author (me) chose good intentions over the greedy and fruitless advice of the evil Barbie & Ken (who he changed back to  trolls mind you) by pledging to offer good books at cheap prices in the hopes of one  day gathering a magical horde of loyal fans.

And thus, .99 cents it shall be for the time being, 13.95 for a paperback, and $22.00 for a the character fingerprint signature edition, much of that is being donated to charity anyway– plus I’ve searched and searched and I still couldn’t find that darned clown suit anywhere… jeeesshh!!!

PS.

A sincere thank you to the king and queen of the .99 cent novel, Amanda Hocking and John Locke….see dreams are possible…

America was built on one…

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