Assorted Essays

by Mark L. Stinson

WHAT IT IS LIKE TO BE TWELVE

A twelve-year-old is full of questions. My main one is what am I going to do with my life. I would like to go to college and become a private practice veternarian. I love animals and I am fascinated with medicine and operations.

I might go to college as a track-runner. Then I would go to the Olympics. To win a gold medal would be one of the best things to ever happen to me.

I would also enjoy being a scientist. Solar or nuclear development would be interesting. Maybe I would be good at inventing.

Being a denist would be good if you wanted a lot of money. You would meet all kinds of people, but it would get boring. There aren't that many different kinds of cavities. Looking in people's mouths doesn't sound so fun either.

The danger of being a stuntman would be fun and exciting. I like to fall out of trees, climb up buildings like a human fly, crash on my bike, and trip over things on purpose.

I would like to grow up, get married, have children and watch them grow to adulthood.

Being short is not an advantage while twelve. You get picked on and pushed around. If you try to fight back you get smashed in the face or stomach by a hostile fist.

When you move to a new school, no matter how tall or strong you are, some people will tease and pester you until you don't want to go to school. I was lucky, I didn't get it that bad because I moved before school started.

You have to be careful about the friends you pick. Your friends should be nice and not be too rowdy. If they are, you will slowly start acting like them. I like to have friends. If I didn't have any, I wouldn't feel lonely. I grew up on a farm with only one neighbor, and they lived a half mile away.

Having a hobby is very important. I love to collect comic books, MAD magazines, stuffed animals, bank notes (old money), bicentenial coins, foreign coins and money, McDonald's rubber toys, movie cards, and I love to build models.

To become a little more independent, I got a job as a paperboy. I make about forty dollars ($40.00) a month. My job takes up a lot of time, but it's fun and profitable.

Every summer I play baseball. I am pretty good in the field but not at batting. I plan to play one or two more years and then become a little league umpire. By then I probably will be bored as a paperboy and quit.

I hope to get on the track team. I am pretty fast. I have always love to race.

I am in the Boy Scouts of America. It is fun and I learn a lot about nature. We go on a campout every month. Last summer we went to Camp Oceola. The average temperature in the shade was 108 degrees. There wasn't any air conditioning, and we were there for ten days.

In summary, age twelve is a hard age to be. Even though it is usually fun.

GOING UNCONSCIOUS (written in 7th Grade)

The way to go unconscious is very simple. Take ten (10) deep breaths. Take an eleventh (11th) breath and hold it. While holding it have someone or something press hard between the chest and stomach. You will get a dizzy sensation and lose balance and where you are.

In my own experience it is a scary feeling. I once passed out while doing it, but its very rare. I remember bright lights flashing by me. I was then standing up with bright colors in the shape of brush strokes flying past me. Next thing I knew I heard a chair hitting the floor. I woke up surprised that I was in school. I was lying on the floor with Tom Dean looking down out of his chair at me. He did not believe I had passed out until he tried it and lost track of everything going on. Then he told me what had happened to me:

I had fallen over out of my chair and into his lap. Thinking I was faking he pushed me onto the floor. Then I slowly opened my eyes and asked him what happened. I do not know whether it causes brain cell destruction or if it causes side effects. I do not advise you to do this unless you are stupid. Tom and I will continue so we can observe its effects.

As of Septmeber 19th, 1983, 12:20 am I* will have

57 years or

20,805 days or

499,320 hours or

29,959,200 minuites or

1,797,552,000 seconds to live

*If I live to be exactly 72-years-old.

(The following is a list I made in my early teens in preparation for nuclear war. We were worried about this sort of thing in the early and middle 80's, and its reflected in the fact that I would actually make this list. My plan was to gather up what I could and make my way to our basement. I would then push our slate-topped pool table up into the corner of the room, and stack furniture around it to form walls. Once this was done, I was going to drape blankets, towels, plastic bags...whatever I could find over the top of the whole mess. I was pretty sure this wouldn't save me, but it was the best I could do. If the blast didn't kill you, then the fallout would...so I hoped to wait it out until rain had washed some of the fallout away...and then get as far away from the city as possible. It sounds crazy now...but it was my way of dealing with the intense fear represented by possible nuclear war.)

LOCATION	ITEM	DESCRIPTION
under Mom's bed	Gun	ammo
cabinets/refridgerator	Food	3 weeks of dried meat, cheese, hardtack, canteen of water, 2 two liter bottles of water
my room	Bible	-
basement	Backpack	plate, pan, matches, flasks or bottles of oil or gas, sleeping roll, poncho, 15' of rope, plastic sheet, clothes, first aid kit, utencil knife
scout drawer	Sheath Knife	-
scout drawer	Utencil Knife	-
garage	Navy Knife	-
scout drawer	Pocket Knife	-
(assorted)	Miscellaneous	knife sharpener, can-opener, money, radio, watch, watch batteries, knife, oil, comb, binoculars, pencils, paper
under my bed	First Aid	gauze, bandaids, hydrogen peroxide, ankle wrap, snake bite kit, needle and thread, cord (turnicut), tape (medical), sling, alcohol (cleaning)...COMPLETE.
-	Garrote	-
-	Sling	sling, lead balls
-	Clothes	2 pairs of jeans, 3 shirts, 1 hat, 1 coat, 2 gloves, 2 socks, 3 u.w.

THE END