Blame it on Tiger Beat

This is just a quick interlude of more elementary school memories. I'll finish off the subject when I get around to explaining about my Dutch French teacher, probably tomorrow night.

1966 was the year of two important tv shows in the lives of Pleasant Street fourth graders: Batman and The Monkees.  Some time that fall, Miss Skinner brought in the issue of Life magazine  with Adam West on the cover, and asked us to write about our favorite tv shows.

Now, I was a big fan of Batman at the time.  Joel and I used to go to Economy Books and buy "stripped" comic books (ones whose covers had been returned to the distributors for credit) for seven cents each: Batman, Superman, Green Lantern, JLA, Legion of Super Heroes, The Flash, the Brave and the Bold, all that stuff, maybe even issues of Lois Lane or Jimmy Olsen.  Sometimes we spent as much as a quarter for an 80 Page Giant. We'd never even heard of Marvel Comics, and we didn't care for Harvey.  It was DC all the way.  The best were the ones about Green Lantern and the Legion - I distinctly remember discussing the death of Ferro Lad in Joel's front yard - and the worst were the ones now considered classics by some people, with covers that posed such questions as "Why Is Superman Robbing This Bank?"  Joel and I tried to start a Bat Club, but the total membership consisted of Karen Funk, Joel Rubinstein and Michael Rubinstein, Joel's younger brother.  I made a costume as Bat Friend, and Michael became Bat Clown (don't ask).  I don't think Joel did the costume thing.

Did I write about Batman for Miss Skinner?  I did not.  Concurrently with the comic book enthusiasm, I was in the grip of Monkeemania. Lori T., Nancy R. and I were all into it, reading Tiger Beat and Flip and Hullaballoo and other teen magazines.  We even supposedly started a band, the Dreamsville Kids, despite the fact that Lori and Nancy didn't know each other, and none of us played an instrument except for very rudimentary piano:

Dear Davy,
I've got something to tell you.
Dear Davy.
I've got something to say.
I love you.
I do, I do, I do, I do.
Dear Davy,
I'm in love with you!  Hey!

Not exactly a hit, but hey!  I was nine years old!

So I decided to write about The Monkees instead of Batman for Miss Skinner, partly because I didn't want to be so obvious as to write about the suggested tv show, and partly to try to cultivate an image as a hip teenybopper. Under the influence of the supposedly groovy language used in Tiger Beat and the other magazines, I started my paper as follows (prepare to cringe):

"My favorite show is The Monkees, 'cause us groovy kids gotta have some groovy show to watch."

Miss Skinner, who knew perfectly well that I usually had a better command of grammar than that, wrote at the top of the paper, "Karen!  I'm surprised at you!" and didn't give the paper the grade it probably deserved.

Great teacher, Miss Skinner.

Karen