You Just Picked the WRONG DAY Billy!

It is still the first week of fifth grade and it has been about a bazillion years since anything seemed to go right for the poor little fellow.  Having been left behind at Salton Sea; lured, deceived, betrayed, Mark was stuffed in a diaper pail and shoved under the old grouches' car next door and was involuntarily subjected to community shock therapy by the Wolf Pack.

The older boys were slowly evolving into full fledged hippys and Markie D felt like an outsider looking in. He just wanted to feel like he was a part of his own family, but was too young - too helpless - and too much of a target. As the omega male he was easy prey.

Conked, swatted, kicked, tricked, tied, carried, shoved, shot, shocked, humiliated, dipped, bounced, the little guy was this "passive-aggressive" blob of explosive jello.

"Class," Sister Godzilla shrieked. "What percent of the earth's water can be used for drinking?"

Ernestine, who sat in the desk just across from Markie D (a good arms length away), shot her hand up in the air to answer the question. Thinking it was a fist coming in his direction Markie D reacted to the perceived threat -covered his head with both arms and leaned away - thusly falling out of his chair!  

That's probably not the best thing to do in fifth grade (or in brother Michael's class in ninth grade). Fifth graders can be a pretty mean species.  

 

Richard pointed!

The class laughed! 

Mark pretended to be on the ground looking for a lost pencil. No one was buying it. 

How do you spell humiliation!   m a r k i e d. 

 

Sr. Godzilla pinched his ear, yanked him from the floor and dragged him off to Sister Superior's office. 

Markie didn't know who he should be mad at...someone he figured! Sister Godzilla? Ernestine? Richard? His brothers for giving him Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome? His parents, for not protecting him? Himself for being an idiot? God? No, he wasn't mad at God, but boy... all those pent up emotions were brewing and stewing inside and someone was liable to get punched in the face. By the end of school, the little volcano was about to explode - Watch out world! To be fair to the unsuspecting masses that lived on Harding Ave, Markie d should have had a sign around his neck with a big warning: PLEASE DO NOT PUSH ANY OF MY BUTTONS TODAY!

(Please excuse the literary license as I shift to first person)

I will use a pseudonym for my my next oldest brother - in order to protect the innocent or the GUILTY! Ulrich, who was about 4 years older than me, had begun to gather his own crew of angry short people. All of whom suffered from a personality disorder referred to as a "Napoleon Complex" and assembleD them into a club. Their one grand purpose in life was to roam about and beat up unsuspecting little brothers and anyone they felt they could intimidate and subject to their rule by force. Who better than me! Why not? On the way home from school I was often ambushed by attacks from his motley crew who would cleverly be hidden behind cars or in trees.
 TODAY WAS NOT THE DAY!
 Obviously, they didn't get the memo (please don't push any of my buttons) and Billy Lennon picked the wrong day to wonder off the confines of the Lennon compound!

The Lennons (for many good reasons), played only in their backyard (if they chose to go out into the sun and do activities that normal children do)!  The Lennon Sisters at this time, were indeed, quite famous and had stalkers and gawkers who parked outside their house seeking autographs and hoping to catch glimpses of this celebrity Venice family.  Mr. Lennon was no patsy! This guy could fight and could stand his ground in a boxing ring with just about anybody. For some reason, however, he didn't give boxing lessons to his kids. Oh, and another good reason for them not to wonder off the premises is that the DAHLINS LIVED ACROSS THE STREET.


"Warning! Danger, Will Robinson Danger" 

Danger, Wolf Pack, Danger!

Danger, Mini-Napoleons, danger!

Danger, Billy Lennon, Danger!

Today was not the Day!

Billy caught up to Ulrich where the angry, small-man congress had been lying in wait behind the Steadman's Cadillac to pounce on me.  Mrs. Steadman peered out from behind the blinds and yelled to Mr. Steadman..."The Wolf Pack in on the move, honey. Get ready to call the police! My, oh my"

Urich and his punitive jamboree of "no-gooders" jumped out from behind the big white Cadillac - startling me like Ernestine did earlier. Only this time it was intentional and I wildly swung hoping to take out one of the beligerent predators.

ONLY!

Only, it was poor Billy who I cold-cocked in the face. He was an innocent bystander and the only one of them that didn't deserve it.

The angry little-men scattered! Billy gave chase. I ran into the house slammed the door and hid in my room.

50 some years later, poor Billy is still wondering why I slugged him in the face. When you see him, someone please tell him it had something to do the the electrocutions, with the hamper, with Salton Sea.... with the"Pee-pee incident" in third grade and Mrs. Simpson's alligators (that I swear were real), with Ernestine's hand, with Ulrich and his wretched ambushes or with Sister Godzilla. 

Someone tell Billy I'm sorry and warn him that it just might be safer in their own backyard. As for now, I just hope he dosen't send his dad down the street the settle the score.Mea Culpa. Mea Culpa. Mea Maxi Culpa!

Turns out it was Ulrich who inspired the lyrics to Randy Newman's song; Short People which he recorded years and years later.

Oh, and someone should warn Michael C. about tomorrow regarding "THE TOAST INCIDENT" of 1966, obviously he didn't get the memo either.