Okay, not exactly. When I walked by Haisley at 0-dark-thirty this morning, I was a little shocked to see several somewhat scantily clad middle school girls standing there freezing outside a darkened, locked school, waiting for a bus that didn’t seem to be coming. (A bus picks up Forsythe Middle School students at Haisley every morning.) I hadn’t heard that the schools were closed but, these days, I only have a passing interest in whether or not the schools are open. At about minus 10 Fahrenheit with relatively clear roads, it just didn’t seem bad enough to cancel school and I was plenty warm walking. Of course, the outfit I was wearing made me look like a purple version of the Pillsbury Doughboy.

Actually, until 7th grade, I just walked across the street to Lincoln School. Junior and senior high school were nine blocks away, if I’m counting right. And I think I am. I swear I can remember every step of that journey and lots of the houses along the way. Five blocks down Superior to Easterday, where I’d usually meet up with Helen and whoever else. Then one block over to Johnston and around three more long blocks along Johnston, crossing the canal over the Johnston Street bridge. It’s a quick little walk for me today but it often seemed to take eons back then, especially if I was freezing to death.

I really can’t remember even one day that school was ever canceled up there in the yoop. Minus 32 Fahrenheit? Three feet of new snow? Three inches of ice? No problem. We trudged (or slid or whatever) through it all. Was I dressed like the Pillsbury Doughboy? Heck no! Short skirts, nylon stockings, and frostbitten knees were the vogue. Hats and scarfs and things? Those would ruin our hair! Boots? Fashion equals frozen toes. And woe to anyone who forgot to carry their shoes to school with them. Were we smart enough to leave an extra pair of shoes in our lockers? I doubt it.

I would never think to question the infinite wisdom of the Planet Ann Arbor Public School District, but I couldn’t figure out why they closed the schools. Eleanor at the bank shed some light on the subject. Half of the school buses would not start this morning. When I was a kid, the only kids who were bused to school were the kids who lived out in the country. There were definitely days when they didn’t make it to school. The rest of us just kept on trudging (or sliding or…).

The girls in front of Haisley this morning were complaining that no one had notified them. I knew that the news was likely published on the district website and every radio station in town but I commiserated with them anyway. They were just kids. They were cold but they were dressed the way lots of teenage girls dress. I could feel their pain. I wondered where their parents were and why three sets of parents didn’t listen to the radio or check the internet. I wondered how far they had to walk and whether their houses were locked and if they had keys. Was there someone who could come and get them? A few of Mouse’s friends would occasionally call me when they needed a ride and couldn’t find a parent at that moment. I was always happy to pick them up. It does actually take a village, as much as I hate how trite that saying has become. But the kids this morning said they were okay. They had cell phones. My kids didn’t have cell phones in middle school. I think I got *my* first cell phone when Lizard Breath was in middle school. If they hadn’t had them, there was one in my pocket they could’ve used. I told them to go get a cup of coffee and continued waddling toward home in true Purple Pillsbury Doughboy style.

So, whadidy’all wear to school when it was cold? Or even when it wasn’t? And what did your school district cancel school for?

This entry was posted on Monday, February 5th, 2007 at 8:00 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.