32 Likes

Thirty-two likes, Oh, Yikes! Maybe, one impending doom.

Beware of the Ides of February! The 14th, Valentine’s Day is tricky for a 5th-grade boy. Let's face it. You want everyone to like you, but not too much. Select just the right card for each of your classmates. Heaven forbid that you pick one that is too mushy. There is a fine line between like and love. Choosing the wrong card could result in a dumb old cootie-infested girl chasing you around the playground. Or worse yet, give the wrong card to a boy. You could end up with a bloody nose and a knuckle sandwich. This holiday custom and peer pressure demanded careful consideration.

The upside to the East Union Elementary classroom celebration? It usually ended with lots of heart-shaped candy and sugar cookies covered with mounds of red and white icing. By the end of the day, we all had a sugar buzz that drove the bus drivers crazy.

The shoe-box challenge was a fun perk. About a week before the big-V-day party, Mrs. Burns, our teacher, sent us home with a classmate list and one of her more enjoyable homework assignments: Take a shoe box, cut a slit in the lid, and decorate it with a Valentine theme.

Mom acted as my Art Director. She kept me from going totally Calvin & Hobbs with my cooties and cupid idea. My efforts earned me a smile from Mrs. Burns, the equivalent of an honorable mention. She was a stern square-faced lady who rationed praise like they rationed aluminum during WWII. Even more valuable than the teacher’s smile—we traveled home with a box full of "LIKES!"?

Just between you and me, I eventually took a shining to the idea of dumb old girls chasing me around the playground.

Funny, isn't it, how we seek accolades and validation? My real honorable mention happened the very next year in the East Union Gymnasium. Our 6th-grade class had a safety poster contest. During Parent-Teachers Night, the finished posters were displayed for all to see. My poster, with an aerial view of an intersection and a depiction of an auto accident, won an honorable mention. Who knew that two decades later, my poster-making skills would be earning a living as a graphic designer?

Today, I can get 215 “LIKES” on a FaceBook posting. But it does not feel as great as the 32 East Union classmate “LIKES” of 1957. Out of my 559 FaceBook friends, there are maybe 10% that I know well. And the number is dwindling. The personal touch is discarded in the name of efficiency and technological progress. Replacing it is superficial communication and shallow relationships. Thank you, Steve Jobs, and your iPhone.

I can’t bring back 1957 nor do I want to. Thank goodness, Brylcreem, A-Little-Dab-Will-Do-Ya!” and Butch Wax are gone forever. But we all can encourage one-on-one, face-to-face interactions.?

It's not too late to bless our next generation with the ability to actually socialize. I would LIKE that a lot.

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Story and Graphics by Chuck Clore

Class Photo by Kenneth Williams

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