Eldorado High School - El Aguila Yearbook (Albuquerque, NM)

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Fleebus Come Home There exists a subject that has been a pet peeve of mine for as long as I can recall. That subject is word finding-namely word finding through that hopeless conglomeration of terms upon one an- other, Roget's Thesaurus. The name itself brings many questions to mind. Who ever had a name like Roget? tThere is strong evidence that the man's parents did.J I-low does one go about pro- nouncing it? Row-get? Rah-jet? Both seem logical, and yet neither is correct. The man insists on being called Row-jhay! Row-jhay! In my list of all the impossible pronunciations contained within this ridiculous language of ours, I would rate Row-jhay third, right behind bough, which should be spelled baow, and trough, which should be spelled troff. To me, Hough is an un- necessary letter combination, for it causes us all confusion with our basic phonics. Also, without it people could just coff, and not worry about having to cough. The word Thesaurus deserves recognition in its own right, The first time I saw the word, I thought it had to be an 80-ton, web-footed, pre- historic creature that hasn't existed for 200 mil- lion years or so. I then figured the book to be one of those day-by-day accounts of an anthropologi- cal expedition, which are as boring as lists of hard -to-pronounce words, therefore, I didn't bother reading it. My second guess was that The- saurus was some ancient Roman, but I could in no way associate a Roman with Mr, Rowjhay, sol let it go at that. The organization of the volume is worthy of Plato. It has thus far been wholly interpreted by only one man, a Mr. Fleebus Thatcher, who was a genius in my eyes, for he had single-handedly fig- ured out which groups of words fall under the ab- . ' ff , 71. 1. Ji -SW as 'I mt' , nj' .f 1 ,N rgk 4 - .41 A -,.- ,X , xl- 'N , ff' 1 - .11 i' .tv '-A1 ,f I 'f U - , . A X! I ' 1 ai 5 fr? ff -xx-V ,ftif I V .. X, stract headings used throughout the book to give the impression that there is indeed a place for ev- erything. These headings include Ideas and Emotions and Feelings , not to mention Forms and Figurationsf' Unfortunately, Mr. Thatcher died last May and took all of his theories with him, leaving the rest of us in the cold. We are now totally incapable of comprehending the rea- soning behind the arrangement of the actual globs of words to be looked up. Why would Mr. Row-jhay put lascivious, lecherous, and carnal under gross? Why not gross, carnal, lecherous and lascivious come under licentious? This is all beyond me. Wherefore art thou, Mr. Thatcher? We are in need. Fortunately for all of us. Noah Webster, the dictionary great, never knew Mr. Row- jhay, and never read his thesaurus. I-lad he seen what Row- jhay has done to his lifelong efforts of organizing English into a sane man's reference book, Web- ster would have surely committed a grotesque murder jjustifiable in my opinionj and would never have gone on to contribute to our literacy as a nation. Mr. Row-jhay wholeheartedly mocks Mr. Webster with his own aid to literature: now instead of using concrete Webster words like merge and gap , young writers refer to the coming together of two things as amalgamation and to a space as a hiatus . I-Iave you ever had the opportunity to amalgamate onto a highway? I-Iave you ever known anyone with a two-inch hiatus between their front teeth? Alas, I'm afraid that Mr. Row-jhay did, and for that reason gave up a promising speaking career and turned to writing reference books, which will be the even- tual end of any remaining bits we possess of a civilized language. Mike Nixon

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Dumbbell Alfie rolled onto his side and glanced at the clock. 2:45 a.m. He winced as he turned over to his back, feeling the day's workout. He moaned as he recalled lifting weights fora solid hour that afternoon and consoled himself with the thought that the stiffness was because it had been the first workout. and not due to his being out of shape. Though he had a trim build, Alfie had never attempted sports before. fearing his own safety. l-le was the guy who had the crooked nose from the time he had gotten a girl's elbow in the face when she turned around to hand him her yearbook to sign. He had once broken his ankle stepping off a curb when he spotted a ten-dollar bill in the street. All of the guys had gotten a good laugh out of that one. and had chimed in with the usual. Could happen to anybody. Lots of guys can't handle stepping off a curb! Alfie hadn't laughed with them though. Excepting the nose. Alfie had that All-American boy look. blonde hair. blue eyes, and all. The girls who had never had a date with him doted on him. The ones that had been lucky enough to go out with Alfie kept their distance. though. for a number of reasons-reasons like stepping on flowing pink chiffon dresses at the prom. causing them to tear away suddenly. A klutz like me should look before doing. he had laughed. Unfortunately. his girl hadn't seen the humor in the incident. and the dance had ended right there. Reasons like slamming car doors on petite hands. causing three fingers to break. Alfie had tried to laugh that one oft' too. but had gotten nothing for his efforts but a slap in the face and a large piece of a girl's mind Alfie was hurt by the constant ribbing, especially from the girls. but he never let anyone know it. He told himself that even though they poked fun at his clumsiness. they were really his friends. He knew that they meant no harm. but he also knew that they caused plenty. Alfie lay on his baek and stared up at the blank ceiling. Why me? he asked aloud for the millionth time. l'm at least as good as the rest of them. lt wasn't the first time he had told himself that. either. He had made one resolution after another to prove himself to his friends. but his efforts always ended in ridicule. His first attempt was the speech team, and he had done well. until he came down with whoop- ing cough two days before the state tournament. His hopes had been shattered once again. and laughter followed him everywhere. He then had made up his mind to make the baseball team, though he hadn't counted on lifting weights to do it. A tear inehed down Alfie's face as he thought over the day's events. All ofthe usual jokes had gone around the weight room that after- noon. about what todo if Alfie dropped a weight on his foot. or if he ran into a barbell. After he had clunked himself with a dumbbell. someone had come up with the brilliant nickname of Dumbbell and he had had to live with it for the entire afternoon. lt'll probably stick forever. he moaned. Alfie got up and hobbled to the bathroom fora drink. On the way back to bed, he passed his open closet. and went to close it. He no- ticed his hunting bow leaning in the corner. Oh no! The report on hunting! He slapped his forehead. almost crying out as he struck the welt from the dumbbell. Alfie loved to go traipsing through the woods. and had planned to write a ten-page essay on hunting weap- ons. from bows and arrows to modern high- powered rifles. In his ex- haustion after the workout. it had slipped his mind completely. His aching body urged him to go back to bed. but he knew he couldn't. He had to keep up his grades. He switched on his desk lamp and sat down. After writing the title. he got up and opened the closet. He took out his bow and his new Winchester .308 caliber. He handled the gun with care. for it was his prized possession. He sat down at the desk and wrote. He described the weapons in detail. told of their origins. and explained their use. After writing for an hour. he stopped and picked up his rifle. Deftly. he ran his hand over the smooth stock. and carefully sighted down the barrel. Thoughtfully. he cranked a bullet in and out of the firing chamber. listening to the sound of the precision metal workings. With a start, he snapped out of his momen- tary trance. and glanced down at his paper This is crazy, he mut- tered. Why write a report at 4:00 a.m.? Everyone else is probably home sleeping. Why was it that they always did things right. and not him? I think I'll write Mrs. Hofstead a note and tell her l oouldn't care less about her stupid report and that she can shove it. He began with Dear Old Lady Hofstead but didn't get any further. He crumpled up the paper, thinking Teachers only make you write reports to help you learn. Writing hateful notes does nobody any good. Alfie smiled at the pleasant thought. wondering where he had gotten it. A second idea hit him then. and his smile drew back into a tight-set line. Girls, he hissed. girls never do anything for anyone's good but their own. Iulie deserved that note. not Mrs. Hofsteadf' He recalled his latest attempt at romance. Last Friday's date with lulie had been a disaster. After seeing a movie. they had headed for The Parlor for ice cream and to dance a while. Iulie was talking about some article she had read about life expectancy. and Alfie was conversing distraetedly. trying to concen- trate on his driving. As they were crossing a busy intersection. the car had stalled. Fora moment Alfie and Iulie had stared silently at each other. Then she had recovered and had begun to call him by every adiective in the thesaurus under klutz and then some. while the other drivers at the intersection started leaning on their horns with more pointed remarks. Alfie got out and raised the hood. almost get- ting hit in the process. lulie had run out of insults. but her fury re- mained. so she stomped the three blocks to the Parlor and called fora ride home. lt was two hours before a thirty-five dollar tow truck dragged Alfie's car out of the intersection. He stared at the wall in front of his desk. Some friends. he said. fighting back his tears. They couldn't care less about me. Who needs them? Tomorrow l'll tell them just what I think about their big mouths, and maybe bust a few of their teeth. too. He was sobbing now and continued his declaration. I don't have any friends now. and l'll never have any. I don'i want any! Feeling satisfied. he dried his tears and composed the note to lulie: julie- l hate you. You'll never find anyone who will be as nice to you as l was. yet you insisted on hurting me as deeply as you could. You know that l couldn't help the things that happened. When you were talking about that article. you said that men are supposed to live for 7195 years. Well. l've been around for 17 and have seen it all, including creep girls. I never want to see you again. and hope that the feeling is mutual. Alfie He reread the note. lt's about time l fought back. he thought. l wish everyone could see that note. Then they would know that clumsy ol' Alfie is never going to pull another goof again. and for sure is never going to be laughed at anymore. His determination turned to despair, though, as he thought. lt's too late to fight back. They would never do anything but laugh at me no matter what I did! Alfie suddenly stood up, grabbed the .308. put the mauzzle in his mouth. and pulled the trigger. The hammer fell with a sharp click. and that was it. He slowly reached down and picked the bullet up off his desk. l can't do anything right. he moaned. Then he added. Thank God. He tore up the note to Iulie, turned off the light. and crawled back into bed. Finding a comfortable position wasn't easy, but he managed after a few painful tries. l'll show those guys at work- out tomorrowf' he whispered as he drifted back to sleep. Mike Nixon 333

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-The White Mouse- The chair grew unbearably hard. and an itch that just had to be scratched cropped up in every limb. seemingly in every square inch of hot. moist flesh. Vinny looked around ber at the innumerable faces all bearing the same hypnotized expression. Pens and pencils scribbling fiercely over snowdrift white and butterfly pink. they all stared as though in a trance. With mimi dulled as though by novocaine. she squirmed and wriggled to pacify the tiny demons that were tickling her with their microscopic lances. As the teacher's voice droned on and on endlessly about Euglenas. Amoebae and Cilliates. she became increasingly aware of a minute. scratching. tearing noise. Thankful for any excuse to break the mono- tony. she turned her head. almost involuntarily to- wards the source of the faintly audible. but irritat- ing noise. Scanning the lab tables to one side of her against the wall. she quickly noticed. registered. and dismissed several animals in cages. because they were. or so it appeared. asleep. Obviously, she thought. they can't take Stragel's lectures either. Continuing her search for the irritant. her eyes fell upon a tiny cage in the corner. behind a collection of short. overweight beakers. and thin graduated cylinders which. as any fool could see. obviously had a thyroid problem. This tiny wire prison was small: indeed. it was so tiny as to have gone unno- ticed by her for the four listless and extremely bor- ing months that she had sat in that hard plastic chair. leaning on a hard plastic table. listening to Mrs. Gladys Stragel lecture to a class of blank. mindless faces on the intricacies of Microbiology from behind hard plastic glasses perched pre- cariously on a huge. oily beak ofa nose that always persisted in dripping incessantly. This malady kept Mrs. Stragel persistently pulling her tiny. hot fist out of the front of a dirty white lab jacket. to dab at the monstrosity on the front of her face with a tissue The trees standing like witches on golden sand tossing tangled manes of twigs and leaves stirring the sea and dropping the sun now a pearl into the flaming cauldron. Lori Gehrman Snowflake gently drifts Onto my warm waiting Lies in a wet grave. Debbie Hutchins Old age, A time when yeuth is radiated Instead of illustrated. Debbie Bryant that looked at least four years old. As Vinny watched. the tiny animal inside scratched furiously at the metal floor of the cage. but to no avail. its small claws couldn't even scratch the shiny bare surface. Mrs. Stragel's voice droned on. and as it did. Vinny saw a part of herself in that tiny cage. She watched as the small white mouse slowly grew long. slender legs. human hands. a trail- ing abundance of dark brown hair. and an enviably clear complexion with large. doe-like eyes. The tiny human figure pounded her delicate little fists on the hard wires of the cage. and screamed at the top of her lungs. but it was little more than a squeak. Vinny looked on with growing concern. until fi- nally. she could no longer control herself. She pushed her chair back with such violence that it tipped over and skittered across the floor. Oblivious to Mrs. Stragel's hysterical voice screaming at her what on earth had gotten into her. and completely ignoring the faces which stared at her blankly. their mouths dropped open. not knowing what to do about the interruption in their blank existence, she ran to the lab table. Shoving beakers and cylinders tumbling to the floor with a crash. she fumbled with the latch on the cage. She reached inside. and tenderly picked up the tiny little doll-like figure. Holding it to her cheek, she answered Mrs. Stragel's What ARE you doing? with the simple. blank statement that she had to let herself out. At that moment. the blank faces turned their gaze towards the door, where the school nurse and prin- cipal had suddenly appeared. and watched as they led her out of the room, holding a white mouse to her cheek. Mrs. Stragel walked back to her lecture podium. adjusted her glasses. dabbed at her nose, and re- sumed her discourse to the blank faces. Iudy Barnum underneath The world is falling down, hand and l am underneath. The ground is crumbling beneath my cold. uncovered feet. The day will never end. and I may never sleep. The world is falling down and l am underneath. Lorraine Mantei 33