THE GREAT ONE

No, not Jackie Gleason, but me. Yes once upon a time I was known briefly as the “Great One” It all started when I was in the 4th grade in Mrs. James classroom at East Patchogue elementary school. Mrs. James liked to assign homework to little kids that would like to do something other than.

There was a fellow classmate by the name of Dennis. Dennis was one of those kids that never got into trouble, did all his homework, and kind of blended into the walls of the classroom. He had gotten his homework paper back and before handing it in to Mrs. James, put some kind of self-descriptive title on it. I asked Dennis what it was and he said: “Oh, I put anything down that I want.”

One day Mrs. James’ assignment was to write an autobiography. I wrote my paper, and before handing it in, though of Dennis and signed it at the bottom “The Great Joseph Del Broccolo.” I could have put anything down, but felt I should shoot for the top. Unfortunately, Mrs. James took issue with the signature and when I got it back she had penned at the top in large red letters: “I don’t think you are so great Joseph, have a parent sign this and return it to me.” Geez, what a witch!

When I saw the comment on top that Mrs. James had so callously written, I immediately put two words together. One of the words was “Oh” which is a very versatile word that can be used in many ways. For example: “Oh!” Or if you like: “Oh?” You can use it to go along with other words like “Oh, no!” The other word was “Uh.” Although it is a rather simple word, it really has no meaning by itself. For instance if you say: “Uh?” or “Uh!” you sound like a cave man. However, when the two words “Oh” and “Uh” are put together in the proper sequence, they can convey a very definite meaning. Upon seeing the comment on my paper, I immediately arranged the two words thus: “Uh-oh!” This conveyed the meaning that best described my predicament, deep shit.

Thinking long and hard, I had to figure out how to run this little disaster past my Mother the disciplinarian, (I always thought she was Catholic) and not be killed. All night I thought and thought and by morning the answer took care of itself. I would have her sign it just as the bus is coming! “Brilliant!” you say. Yes indeed.

Me: Oooh, here comes the bus Ma! Here sign this.

Ma: What is this???

Me: Hurry, or I’ll miss the bus!!

Ma: WHAT IS THIS?????

Me: Uh (there’s that word again) it’s permission to do special home works.

Mom signs the paper but not without a good finger pointing and threats to my person when I got home. Oh, (There’s that other word) she also threw in “Wait till your Father gets home.”

I had survived for future troubles!