A Twisted, Twistin' Memorial Day
First of two parts, including dance songs from the early 1960s and the startling story of the Isley Brothers at my Bar-Mitzvah
A public Spotify playlist for this story is at Wayne’s Twisted, Twistin Dance Party. Enjoy!
1. The Wrong Report Card
In eighth grade at winter holiday break at Valley Stream North High School (a 7-12 school) in Franklin Square, NY, my report card got mixed up with that of another classmate named Robbins. This caused his mother, who opened the mail, to nearly have a coronary. Because of all the red ink. Because of the numbers the other Robins, me, had on his report card: not just near failures, like 64 or 60, but falling off the cliff failures, like 45 and 50, in science and math, and even easier subjects, red ink splashed all across the pages of the report card.
I opened the Other Robbins' report card, flashed it in fromt of my parents, salutarian-quality numbers at least: If he had lower than a 96 or 97 in any subject, I don't recall. It had to be a mistake. It was a mistake. Other Robbins and I have the same birthday, too, but that's where the similarity ended.
When he showed up late …
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