I met a new patient today, 30+ years of teaching Social Studies in our county, from grades 6-12.
He could be taking better care of himself, and I hope to help him on that path.
I have an old family friend that also taught, in the adjacent county where I grew up. My new patient knew of him, and asked me where I went to school.
Then he asked me if I remembered Mr. Zink.
Mr. Zink was the coolest teacher in my middle school. Everyone liked him: nerd, jock, cheerleader alike. He taught science, and if you were lucky you got him two years in a row. In those few minutes after the lesson finished, but before the bell rang, he would tell us the grossest stories that he knew.
I still remember them. The one about the kid playing basketball with his class ring on, who left his ring and its attached finger on the rim after a dunk, connected by all the tendons from his finger to his shoulder. (Can that really happen?)
Anyway, Mr. Zink was cool. He made science fun. He's one of my few fond memories of middle school, a thoroughly painful and tedious time of life.
Thanks, Mr. Zink.