The elementary school I attended was called Truman Elementary School, after the great Harry S. School colors: purple and white. Go Trailblazers! This was smack dab in the middle of the 70s, and the architecture of the school was completely open. At the time, I believe it was fairly unique. It was a big rectangle building with classrooms running the perimeter, and a sunken library in the center, a la Breakfast Club. The catch was that there really were no walls. The rectangle building housed 3rd-6th grades (K-2nd were housed in a smaller rectangle building on the grounds). Each grade had a corner room, plus the two classrooms on both open sides of that room. Roughly, three classrooms per grade. There was a separator between grades, but virtually nothing at all between the separate class rooms, and nothing between the classrooms and the sunken library. If you were in the 6th grade, you could stand up in class and wave across the building to your little brother in the 4th grade. I really have to wonder who thought it was a great idea to have an elementary school, of all things, without wall divisions. Basically, we couldn't be kids in there. We always had to talk with our "inside voices," and use "indoor applause" (done patting two fingers of one hand against two fingers of the other.

A couple of times a year for some special reason, the entire school would assemble in the library (I don't know why there instead of the gym), and we'd watch a movie - one actually projected onto a screen. It would usually be something like Freaky Friday (the original, of course), or Escape to Witch Mountain, better yet Return to Witch Mountain, or Napoleon and Samantha with Johnny Whitaker and Jodie Foster. They'd lead us in, one grade at a time, seated in rows on the floor, and while we'd wait for the projector to be set up, one of the teachers would lead us in a round of songs. I can't remember most of them but I do remember "If I Had a Hammer" and "Kum Bai Ya" (so much for that whole church and state division). Every once in a great while, when the entire school was assembled and singing, by some strange fluke, everyone would simultaneously hit the right note at the right time on the right pitch. In that fleeting moment, I always thought it sounded like angels singing.

Then I grew older and discovered that Angel was just a snotty girl on the playground who kept picking fights with me.

I can't remember what brought up this memory today, but it was something Rob and I were talking about (we both went to Truman together). It was up in the air. Either tell this story, or talk about the odd dream I had last night about being invited to skate in an NHL all-star camp. Maybe you can hear about that one tomorrow.