Friday, June 14, 2013

Hot for teacher.

With school getting out this week and summer quickly approaching my mind rewinds to the anticipation and excitement that I felt this time of year. In high school I had thrown in the bag around April/May, anxious and more than ready to start my full time job of getting a better tan and eating as much frozen yogurt as humanly possible.

I had it with textbooks, school lunch, homework and all that pesky learning.

I had also had it with my teachers – I was really ready not to see them for three months.
Except for one.

Holy crap - Mr. Olson was a fox.

Like the hottest guy/man in the school. At the beginning of the school year girls hoped and prayed to see his name on their class schedule as their history teacher.

I sure did:

What kind, loving comments about my teachers.
I especially enjoy "always pregnant" and "totally bizarre freak".

Now I have never been what you would call a history buff. I have trouble remembering when the last Olympics took place, who the last President was, what kind of car I drive or how old I am. But being in Mr. Olson’s class sure made me give a crap about historical events. American historical events.

His class was outside, back in the “portables” behind the school. One portable building was for the bad kids who were super close to being kicked out of school altogether, and then there was Mr. Olson’s building.

Maybe they had to put him back there in his own separate building to contain all of his hotness?
 
Like Top Gun era Tom Cruise. But cuter.
And teaching me history.

Besides being hot, Mr. Olson was also a really good teacher. He was young so he knew how to relate to us and talk to us like we were people. He kind of reminded me of Mark Harmon as Mr. Shoop in the 80’s movie Summer School.

Did anyone else love that movie like I did? Anyone? No? Ok.

Hawaiian shirt + dog with sunglasses = '80's movie.

My B/F/F Susanne was in Mr. Olson’s class with me and as you can imagine
we enjoyed our time in the portable together with our favorite teacher.

Susanne and Mr. O.
Seriously.
How cute was this guy?

My memories of American History are fun - yes I said fun.

Every day during fourth period was a class where the teacher would joke with us, teach us things while speaking our language and listen to us when we needed to talk. Even if it wasn't about history, it could have been about music or movies or whatever.

After reviewing my detailed, thoughtful comments above of my high school teachers there are few that I can picture, but very few that I actually remember. Like Mrs. Loud, I'm sorry I don't recall you or your "Home Furnishing" class, whatever the hell that was. And Mrs. Gonzales, I don't know who you are, why you were teaching French, or why I was taking French.

Mr. Olson, as stated above I do remember you being fine and gorgeous.
And now that a few years have gone by (just a few) I also remember you as a really good teacher.


Mr. Olson signed my yearbook.

I believe the "M.M." was a nickname he gave me. "Motor Mouth".
I can't imagine why he called me that.

It reads:

"I wish you all the success in the world. For some reason I cannot explain,
I see you rising to positions of importance and responsibility! Thanx for the cartoons.

Good Luck,
Mr. O."

(I vaguely remember cutting out and giving Mr. O Bloom County and Far Side cartoons that I thought were funny to try and make him laugh/impress him. Smooth.)

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