Followed by a Three-Martini Recess
When I was in kindergarten I had a dream about what life would be like sixth grade (which seemed like countless decades away and now feels like several lifetimes ago). I imagined we all had to wear a suit and tie, carry our homework in an attache case, place our hat on the coatrack by the door, and sit down at our desks, each equipped with a yellow ledger, a rolodex, and one of those spindles with countless pink sheets indicating someone had called.
In short, my entire concept of what six years into the future would look like was informed entirely by daily viewings of the inner workings of McMann & Tate, despite the fact that I attended a K-6 school and so saw the sixth graders every single day. Yet because they were older, taller, and monopolized the swing sets it seemed only obvious that their class work involved not losing the Henderson account and coming up with a knock-your-socks-off ad campaign for Caldwells Leak & Potato Soup.
Of course, since each workday at McMann & Tate concluded with a stiff drink or four back home, I probably also assumed that every sixth grade classroom came equipped with its own cocktail station (if not for the students then at least for the teacher). And this finally leads to something my brother Marcello once said while watching Bewitched at age 5–“Why is everyone on this show an alcoholic?”