Newsletter – November 7, 2025
I had the pleasure of going to see twelve high school students perform a one hour version of this play on Sunday. I had directed all of them in junior high or high school plays over the past seven years. Some backstage students, too, and several more who were in the audience.
Talk about a proud Papa! I got to sit in the auditorium and appreciate how much each of them had grown, both as actors and young adults.
The new director told me that when the students heard I was coming, someone had said “I hope he’s ready for a lot of hugs.” That really warmed my heart, and after the show I gave and received lots of hugs!
The play also made me stop and think about what I had learned in kindergarten.
It’s not easy to remember specifics after sixty years, just a lot of general things. One day we made applesauce, which was delicious! On another day we learned our addresses and phone numbers by pasting pieces of construction paper onto a page and writing on the house cut-outs we had made.
I’m sure we also learned please and thank you, if we hadn’t already learned those “magic words” by watching Captain Kangaroo on TV.
But what stands out in my mind is the epic incident of a visit from Batman.
You see, my friend Rob had a Batman costume from Halloween and I had my Superman costume. He came up with the idea to wear them to school because, you know, that’d be really cool.
The next morning when I told my mom what we were going to do, she vetoed the whole notion. Halloween was months behind us and, despite my protestations that Rob was going to do it, the answer was NO.
We walked to the elementary school with Rob in full Batman gear, cowl and all. And when we arrived at the classroom, the kids erupted.
The Batman TV series was playing every week and the Caped Crusaders were enshrined on lunch pails, cereal boxes, and jars of peanut butter. To have Batman show up in your classroom was a lightning bolt from the sky!
Have you ever experienced mob behavior? I got my only taste of it in kindergarten.
Like a kennel of loose puppies on a sugar high, the entire classroom rose as one and headed straight for Rob. He did the only logical thing. He ran.
A double classroom of forty or fifty kindergarteners (it was the Baby Boom, not enough classrooms) chased my friend around the playground like a swarm of bees defending their hive.
I chased him, too. Like I said, mob mentality.
We ran until everyone was exhausted, including the teachers, who were insisting that we come in AT ONCE.
What did I learn? I learned that I was perfectly capable of getting caught up in the moment along with dozens of other children. When Rob later asked me why I chased him, the answer was simple. Because everybody else was doing it.
I expect that the two kindergarten teachers gave us a firm talking-to on how not to behave, but I have no memory of that speech, just the unruly run around the playground under the influence of all those kids.
What I learned in kindergarten was that crazy things can happen when you’re part of a mob. And you know what? I haven’t done it since!
TTFN
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My wife took this picture of Tabitha nursing her kittens on the back deck. I thought I’d share it with you. Talk about a mob. It’s an entire kittenkaboodle! (I figure if I use that word enough it’ll catch on.)
Tabitha entered the humane trap a few days ago and backed out with a mouthful of food without setting off that hair-trigger spring. Clever girl!
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My middle grade novel, The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles is available through The BookBaby Bookshop at https://store.bookbaby.com/book/the-most-amazing-museum-of-los-angeles
Eric Margerum 