The Ferenghi

 

I started really piling up money working at Cromwell tailors .I would rush to work from Benson , and stay as late as I could . I would also work on Saturday . My Paychecks were getting bigger and bigger. My Demolay life was really occupying a lot of my time as well . The problem was Benson. By now I had begun to really think I had made a mistake . I was ready to embrace a Coed High School education , more specifically I was ready to embrace a Coed . My Sophomore year was drawing to a close , I had yet to successfully complete a Industrial Arts project . I had given up on my wrestling and football career , I was starting to notice girls , but Benson was a guy only school , and the cafeteria workers were all married already. My Parents were unwilling for me to transfer to Wilson High School , they thought I was just going through a phase in shop classes and once my acne clear up I would be able to handle a sprocket wrench with the best of them .

Despite my best plans and my best failures A junior year at Benson seemed inevitable ...Then came the Miracle .

My deliverance did not at first look like a miracle ..it looked more like Drafting Class. Drafting was a required class for Sophomores . We had to take three Semesters of Drafting ...At first I though Drafting would be fun ..first of all It wasn't really a shop class, I wouldn't have to make anything ..I would simply draw what I wanted to make , My mind could become an extension of my hands . In fact for most of the Summer leading up to the Drafting Class I was excited . I thought this may very well be How I make my mark . My enthusiasm continued until the day I got my Drafting supplies . To be honest I was overwhelmed ...the supplies for Drafting exceeded the combined supplies for all of my other classes . The Drafting bok itself needed a small hand cart to transport it . Then there was the bundle of drafting paper , the T square , the calipers , ( several sizes ) drafting pencils , erasers , Protractors , retractors, detractors ..even a slide rule ..And every single item of Drafting supplies had lots of witting ,indicators , and complicated wording and indention's on it !. Somehow I had come to believe that Drafting was a free hand exercise ..it was beginning to look more complicated .

The first day of class only confirmed my fears . The Drafting Room was directly across the street from the Franz Bakery . Franz was one of the largest bakeries in Portland . It operated non stop and the entire room was permeated with the smell of fresh baked bread . The room had about twenty stations for Students ...I selected one close to the door . About middle of the room . It took several minutes to unpack the Drafting gear. And then in He came . Our drafting teacher was very interesting ...my suspicion for many months was that He had slipped in under the radar and had been a high ranking member of the Gestapo in Nazi Germany . He was mean and ill tempered ..he was also very short , and had huge ears ( all to better to hear us with ) .His forehead was permanently marked with huge creases that seemed to circle his entire head . Much later I would realize that He was a Ferenghi , but I was totally unfamiliar with that Alien life form when I was in High School .

The Ferenghi had unusually high standards for us . He expected , demanded that we be able to draw a straight line with our T squares , He insisted that we Spell our names correctly and that we print them in a precise and legible way . It only took me a few minutes to understand this man was against every principle I had ever come to believe as good and true . His idea of perfection was perfection my idea of  perfection was abstraction .

We began our Drafting career by witting our names on our Drafting paper . Sounds easy ..but it had to be very precise . Each letter had to fit the lines both top and bottom . Hand lettered in block print ..all uniform , no mixing Tahoma with Comic San's . This was Times Roman country . It didn't take me long to wish my name was IIIII or LLLL , my name Ken Stilger mocked me . E's were a real hurdle , and the S was insurmountable . While other students were soon doing perspective drawings of a nuclear reactor , I was still trying to develop an artist S on my last name .

To be fair I did develop a pretty good overhand lob toward the wastepaper basket . I asked the Ferhengie if I could get credit for that and He glared at me .

He actually glared at me a lot ...The sound of my rubber erasure was particularly annoying to him as was the small mound of pink refuse around my desk and under it .

As the School year came to a close , most of us in the class were ready for the Ferenghi to be transported back to the Mother ship. Several students had realized He was a regular guy ..by regular we mean Regular ..every after noon at 2:10 He would excuse himself for a 10 minute bathroom break. It was on once such particular day that Fate intervened and the wheels would be set in motion that would end up bringing me to Wilson High School ...It happened like this .