I hadn’t planned on doing another show-and-tell post so soon after the last, but when I went out this morning it started to rain and I didn’t have the energy to find a suitable photo. If it is dry tomorrow morning I’ll be out again.
I’ve limited the number of articles this time, mainly because a couple of them take up a lot of space. On the left there are two examples of the “poetry” I attempted to write while I was a student at IU. It is bad. I hope that you can’t make out any of it because if you could you would see just how terrible it is. The sad thing is that I thought at the time that my writing showed promise. I was wrong because it is just bad, bad, bad! Now, the doodle did show promise that I could copy Op Art artists. Yes, it is quite derivative, but it was easy and I enjoyed doing it. I liked doing it so much that when looking back in some of my class notebooks from those days, I find more doodles than notes. Oh, I was such the student.
In the upper right hand corner there is a certificate from th IU School of Education that I received for going to a week-long series of high school student council workshops. I attended between my junior and senior years in high school. I couldn’t tell you anything that I learned that week, but the week in Bloomington made a profound impression on me. Until that week I had planned on attending Ball State, after that week IU was the only school I wanted to go to. I am so glad I went to that week of training, it changed my life.
In the bottom center of the photo is the “Official Unified Handball Rules” booklet that came with the handball gloves I bought. Handball was one of the HPER (Health, Physical Education, and Recreation) classes I took when I was a student at IU. After taking that class I was in better shape physically than I was when I finished basic training in the army. I would probably a have a heart attack if I played today.
In the bottom right are two fountain pens. The one to the left, with the light blue barrel, is a cartridge type fountain pen that I used in college to write letters and “poetry.” The thing I remember most about the pen is that when I was finished writing I always had ink on my thumb and first two fingers of my right hand. Why did I ever use it a second time? The other fountain pen belonged to my dad. It is the older type of fountain pen, the type that has a piston to draw ink into the pen from a bottle. The pen has his name printed on the barrel. I don’t know where he got the pen, though I would guess from some Masonic or Eastern Star event, but it came to me when we cleaned out the drawers of his bureau after he died. I keep it for sentimental reasons.