Well, we’re coming to the end (for now). As far as where I’ll be on an almost daily basis after this week is done you can find me at The Hive, there are new threads starting up on a daily basis besides the scheduled discussions. There’s still the DC Conspriacy blog – and I’ll even be writing stories and catch-ups here twice a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays – probably just a bunch of short “Peanut Gallery” types of stories when I’m in the mood for one.

Beyond that, and beyond my super secret project, I’m taking on a new gig. I’ll be editing Josh Fialkov and Scott Keating’s upcoming World’s End, a full-color action/adventure romantic romp through post-Apocalyptic Earth filled with mutant freaks, radioactive wasteland, tricked out motorcycles and tough guys with really big fucking guns. We have a production blog started up where I’ll be dropping by once or twice a week to give some insight into the editing process (got my first post up, actually). Josh and Keating will be by as well to drop their thoughts, ask for opinions and keep you all up-to-date on the book’s progress. So stop by and say “hi”, please – you’re going to love the book and we want you involved from start to finish.

One more thing before the story. It turns out there’s another Moose in the Closet. When I first caught wind of this I admittedly got a little territorial – it’s not a big closet I live in, you know? But after some careful consideration I realized that if I had to share my closet with anyone it might as well be a lady – it’ll be like back in the day when I used to play “Seven Minutes in Heaven” – the girl I shared the closet with would lovingly tell me, “If you even look at me I’ll kick you in the balls.” The only downside to sharing my closet is that there’s a chance it'll ruin the best Google image search query of all time.

Ok, story time…

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Most of you who’ve been with this site from the beginning understand of how horrible Junior High School was. Between friends turning, the muggings for some of the most ridiculous things and the awkwardness of trying to fit in – Junior High was two years of my life that I was more than happy to put behind me.

My boy G was the valedictorian at JHS142; Alex was once again the salutatorian. G getting valedictorian was the worst thing that could possibly happen to the kid. He was already kind of timid, wasn’t much of a public speaker and didn’t want much attention turned towards him. If he had to do a speech in front of twenty friends and family he’d probably be a bit weary.

But in this instance, he had to do a speech in front of a thousand people, 90% of which didn’t give a shit about the valedictorian – 50% of which actually harbored a level of hatred towards the valedictorian.

That’s like George Bush giving a speech in Palestine about how Israel is doing a bang-up job keeping the peace.

The graduation ceremony was a joke. People were bringing beach balls and toilet paper, yelling and shouting during the entire event. No shit, when cats went up to get their diploma they were jumping across the stage, crying out to the audience, singing – grabbing the microphone from the presenter and making fucking speeches – it’s all well and good to be proud of yourself for making it through the difficult two years of junior high but Jesus Christ, I haven’t seen people this proud when receiving PHDs.

My father, always the sarcastic one, made the quip that these people were so excited because, most likely, this is the only diploma they’re going to get. And it’s sad but it’s true. This has nothing to do with race, the thugs in our school were evenly distributed across all races, but the fact is they were straight thugs. And whereas some of them were capable of straightening themselves out the majority of them had two destinations – Bishop Ford if they could afford it and John Jay if they couldn’t. And most likely they weren’t going to make it through either of those schools.

Side note, I got a full scholarship to Bishop Ford and my mom insisted I went because it was free when it would otherwise cost a couple of grand a year. The logic is retarded, because Midwood High School is consistently one of the best schools in New York (and easily one of the best free public schools) and tens of thousands of people apply to it and get rejected each year. But Bishop Ford was obviously a better choice, because most people going there are paying for it.

Nothing wrong with that mentality, it’s the kind of thinking a lot of families who don’t have much take. Even Robin went to a famous prep school solely because she got a free scholarship there – she hated it, transferred after three years. But that’s her story, not mine, and this little digression isn’t today’s story, either.

So – toilet paper and beach balls and people screaming out words of praise every time someone grabbed a diploma. Then it was G’s turn to take the stage and man-oh-man was that some hostile environment type of shit.

Can you imagine some people actually booed? And by some people I mean half the people who were there – parents and their kids. I shit you not, thirty year old women sitting in the audience and booing G when he took the stage.

What the fuck is wrong with these people?

I didn’t hear a word he said, everyone was talking and screaming and booing and throwing shit. G kept his head down, read his cards, and walked off the stage without once looking at the audience reaction as if it was possible to ignore it. I felt so bad for the kid.

The marching band came out after that and the place exploded, people dancing in the aisles – singing, just rocking the fuck out, the entire ceremony falling apart.

There were two days of classes left after graduation, if I remember correctly, and I didn’t go to either of them. I was done. G went to both days and told me they were fun, everyone was just hanging out; they played lots of basketball, no fights, no nothing. I felt kind of shitty for not going but that feeling was completely erased by the exhilaration of starting high school.