Great debate over merits of ‘gym’ class

It was with some interest that I read a Chicago Tribune report about several school districts across the state that are hoping to take advantage of new laws allowing them to reduce the amount of physical education class time they require of their students.

Will future generations not climb the ropes?

It’s meant to be a potential cost-saving device if they don’t have to maintain proper facilities to offer gym class to every student on a regular basis. It’s also seen by some as a way of allowing local school officials to set their own priorities.

ALL I KNOW is that it would seem my memories of spending an hour per day in high school in gym class, engaging in whatever athletic activity the teachers/coaches felt was timely are a part of the distant past.

Modern-day kids aren’t engaging in such activity. Which may be for the best.

Since my own memories of gym class usually bring to mind spending some 45 minutes or so ambling our way through some game that nobody seriously cared about.

And for some, were anxious to ignore at all costs.

MY OWN PERSONAL horror story was a time when we were supposed to play badminton, and the person I was partnered with was something of a klutz. Not that I was ever one to excel athletically. But that day, I was the “elite” player, which wasn’t saying much.

It was also the day I was trying to hit the so-called bird and my “partner” flailed away with his racket – smacking me in the back of the head in the process.

Yes, we lost that game. I was dazed for a few seconds. I’m not sure anybody’s physical fitness was improved with such activity. Gym class always added “C’s” to my report card, just because I didn’t care.

Which supposedly was the purpose of having daily gym class – to get us engaged in a little bit of physical activity that might actually improve our overall fitness. It’s a nice ideal, but I’m sure the way that gym class was handled back in the day usually meant the only people who benefitted were the ones who had their academic struggles in all their other classes.

MEANING GYM CLASS was the one bit of the day where they weren’t aimlessly flailing about. Unless, by chance, they were also clumsy. In which case, the entire educational experience they endured was something of a loss for them.

I’m also sure that the people who went through school thinking “gym class” was their favorite part of the day are the ones who grew up to become individuals who bad-mouthed former first lady Michelle Obama and her own efforts to focus attention on physical fitness.

They probably wanted to think that gym was all about the actual ballgames played in class, and are probably among the people who are going onto the Internet to bad-mouth the current Illinois policies as somehow “sissifying” physical education and our society, in the process.

I do wonder at times if that time I spent in gym class could have been put to more productive use. Although I’ll also admit I mostly remember gym class as something of a break in the day. My own horrid memories of the experience come from the one year in which physical education was my first activity of the high school day.

TO SHOW UP at high school about 7 a.m. and have people immediately expect me to be active was a little cruel. Although I remember having high school newspaper activity scheduled at the end of my school day always seemed like a pleasant way to end – regardless of the nonsense that had occurred in the hours leading up to it.

Remembering high school gym and the hour devoted to class does bring back one memory that I must admit repulses me if I think too much about it. Remember I said it was 45 minutes of activity? The rest of the time was devoted to getting dressed for gym, then changing back into regular clothes for classes.

My own memory is that I rarely showered after gym class. Very few people did. I’m sure there were times I was sweaty and smelly as a result of gym class activity.

It must have been a funky experience – one whose aroma I’m pleased to confess I seem to have suppressed.

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A 30-year reunion only one year late

My 30-year high school class reunion is Saturday night, yet I'm not among the people eager to see how my one-time colleagues (many of whom I haven't seen since I walked across the stage and accepted my high school diploma) turned out in life.


Did they go bald? Wind up rather unsuccessful in life? Perhaps turn out to have larger pot bellies than the one I have managed to develop during the past three decades?


SOMEHOW, I THINK the results would be more depressing than anything else. Particularly because they'd relate to a stage of my life that hasn't been particularly relevant to me since the days that I moved on from Thornwood High School in suburban South Holland.


Our reunion is tonight at a restaurant/bar right on the Chicago River. Which has potential for an urban scenic view of some spectacular-ness, I suppose.


Then again, I can go to downtown Chicago anytime I want. The idea of seeing many masses of long-forgotten individuals just isn't strong enough to make me want to do it this particular Saturday night.


Now don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those people who detested my high school years. I have enough pleasant memories that on the occasions I think about that era (1979-83), I don't shudder in disgust.


EXCEPT FOR THE times I have to recall the horrid pop music and pseudo-fashions of that era. How could we have ever have listened to that dreck. Aerosmith is a lingering memory, along with forgotten bands such as REO Speedwagon, Journey and the Go-Gos.


Blech!!!!!!


My recollection of high school was that it was an experience that I had to go through before I could consider college -- which is where life truly became interesting.


I do have regrets over past college Homecomings I have missed. Not so for Saturday night with the high school crowd.


AND FOR ANYBODY who's going to reminisce about some long-ago high school Homecoming event, I'll have to say it was all rather pointless compared to what happens at a university setting when decades of alumni return to reminisce about their glory days at ol' State U. (or wherever they went).


Part of the reason, however, that I don't think I'm missing much is that I noticed the class reunion event has become a group affair.


It is being billed as a 30-year reunion for the classes of 1981 through 1985. Is that the only way they could get enough people to show up to make an event worth while?


That, in fact, is why the Class of '83 is having its big event 31 years after we graduated. Although I suppose that is better than the 20-year reunion that was held in 1984 at a rather tiny restaurant banquet facility that actually was about three blocks from where I happened to live at the time.


ONLY I NEVER got the invitation, and didn't find out about it until the day AFTER the event was held.


This time, I got notice in advance (they found me through Facebook). So I'm not snubbed (although I didn't feel snubbed 10 years ago).


There's also the fact that my life has sort of turned out into something I wanted. I'm writing for a living (albeit, not being as well-compensated financially as I would have hoped some 16 years ago).


Unlike a couple of our bigger-name classmates -- our star athlete died in an auto accident many years ago, and the girl whose ambition in life would have envisioned great things for her became a little too aggressive, and is now serving a prison stint.


I'M NOT GOING to be the intriguing story of the Class of '83 by any means. For all I know, my absence may not even be noted.


But I will go so far as to wish those of my former classmates who do show up at the reunion, I hope they have a wonderful time and find the experience redeeming.


And if anybody is curious, I'm the classmate who now has a head of hair gone almost fully grey (that image of me to the right is a 22-year-old press card image). So you baldies can feel a little bit better about yourselves while we all move a year closer to a half-century of existence on this planet.


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