Don't ask me why ... I find myself thinking, "Thunder, thunder, thunder, thundercats ... HO!" Psst... was that simply Lion-O letting Cheetara know what he really thought about her?
I used to watch Thundercats every day after school, along with Linda Carter's Wonder Woman, the Beverly Hillbillies, Scooby Doo, and the occasional Little Rascals. Oh, the wonder of growing up with four channels plus PBS! I'd come home, turn on the TV, and settle down to do homework. I had two blissful hours with the house to myself (provided my little sister Jenny would stay next door with my aunt). I'd eat, study, and watch the normal after school programs. I was temporarily queen of the tattered golden throne (old gold couch).
I would find it funny the next day when I would not only know the answer to Mr. Dodson's question in history but also remember what Wonder Woman was doing at the time that I had read the answer while studying. Nice study tool, yet a tad distracting. Mr. Dodson was quite the character. Mr. Dodson and his yellow hands. Short, round Mr. Dodson in sharp contrast to that tall, thin English teacher ... Keester? [help me out classmates]. Mr. Dodson was to Mr. Keester what the Penguin was to the Joker. Mr. Dodson and his precious pointer that he used to love to smash down onto a student's desk who wasn't really paying attention as required. Mr. Dodson and my vague memory of a story about a Christmas tree and a little girl's underpants [really ... please help me classmates ... cause that one sounds a bit .... wrong].
Isn't it odd how just over a minute of cartoon can completely transport you back to a different time?
God, life was so much simpler then. Of course, I'm sure I didn't think that at the time. Junior high was a highly stressful mishmash of kids from different schools and the necessary shifting of tween power amongst cliques as everyone fought to find their place. Friends became enemies, couples broke up, you had to switch classes EVERY hour and remember a complicated set of numbers and movements to get into your locker. Ooh, and you had just become overly concerned with your looks at the same time that Mrs. Matthews deemed 10 minutes enough time for a girl to shower and dress amongst peers.
Nevermind. I take it back. Not simpler.