THE MUFFIN MAN

When I was in grade school, we had a music teacher named Mr. Lehman.  He was sure a lot better than our old mean music teacher, Mrs. Clemons (her first name was and still is totally unknown). We never knew Mr. Lehman’s first name either. As a matter of fact we didn’t know any of our teacher’s first names because that was forbidden territory in those days.  In those days all teachers were called either Mr., Mrs., or Miss So and So. (Hmmm, I’ve never yet met anyone whose last name is “So and so”). The only exception to this rule was “Miss Frances” (I found out later that was her FIRST name) on Ding Dong School. Hmm, sounds like a school that teaches bell ringing. The only way we ever found out what any of our High School teacher’s first names were was to sneak a look in our High School yearbook. Of course these were clandestine operations and we always watched out so we wouldn’t get caught looking at such highly classified and forbidden knowledge. It was really neat to see what their first names were, and we felt like we knew and had knowledge of some forbidden thing that was kept more secret than the Atomic Bomb in World War 2. During our class reunions we usually now call our old High School teachers by their first names (because now we can, I think). At least none of them have given me detention yet. (I’m always afraid they would even at class reunions just out of habit when I was in school). Before our class reunions some of us went to the library and grabbed one of our old High School yearbooks to see what their first names were, having forgotten over the years since we last looked in the yearbooks in High School), I still feel funny and uneasy about calling them by their first name even 40 years later! (We just had our 40^th class reunion) During all of our class reunions, the only teacher any of us still never called by her first name was Miss Purcell our High School English teacher! We, of course, found out her first name from a High School yearbook, but that’s been “classified” and forbidden knowledge ever since. We were afraid after seeing her first name that just like in the “Invaders of the Lost Ark” movie, after opening the Ark someone would yell, “DON’T LOOK”! and if we did, fire bolts would come out of the yearbook and melt us!!! None of us felt comfortable or had enough nerve to call her by her first name even after 30 years! We still called her Miss Purcell!  It’s a good thing that she never got married since I doubt that even her husband would have ever known her first name. I’m not even going to give her first name here because I’m afraid the “Say the first name of Miss Purcell police” will raid my house at 3:00 some morning and drag me off to some dungeon somewhere and I’d never be seen or heard from again! At our 30^th Class Reunion I asked her if she still remembered me. She immediately said, “Oh yes of course I do”.  Everybody says that about me! I guess I just have a face and charm to remember. She died after our 30th class reunion. Her headstone probably has  just “Miss Purcell” written on it. For a while before looking in a High School yearbook, I wondered if she even had a first name. When I was in grade school I thought all the teachers were born with no first names. Back then I never thought of looking in the school yearbook. In fact I was in the 7^th grade before I even knew we had a school yearbook. The reason I found out was that it was dedicated that year to my father, who served on the Board of Education and had died earlier that year.  I remember how scary it was to have Mr. Garland, OK, Roy Garland and MISS PURCELL (2 years before she was my freshman English teacher) (No, I’m still not going to give her first name!) come to our house with the news. WOW, a teacher and the school principal at our house!!!! Talk about feeling weird! It was also weird to see some of our teachers in stores, etc. I always figured they never left the school but just lived there or something. There were times since that I have called teachers by their first names and not felt uncomfortable. One case was both my daughters’ High School  music teacher. I didn’t feel weird about calling HIM by his first name because I never had him as a teacher so it wasn’t the same. Mr. Lehman (first name unknown) used to teach us a lot of songs that we would sing with him. The “classic one” was called “The Muffin Man”. I only remember the first verse. However, due to the miracle of the Internet and the Google search engine, I now joyfully present the whole song for those who remember singing it!:

THE MUFFIN MAN

First Verse:

Oh, do you know the muffin man,
The muffin man, the muffin man,
Oh, do you know the muffin man,
That lives on Drury Lane?

Second Verse:

Oh, yes, I know the muffin man,
The muffin man, the muffin man,
Oh, yes, I know the muffin man,
That lives on Drury Lane.

More Second Verse Responses:

Now two of us know the muffin man,
The muffin man, the muffin man,
Now two of us know the muffin man,
That lives on Drury Lane.

A few of us know the muffin man,
The muffin man, the muffin man,
A few of us know the muffin man,
That lives on Drury Lane.

Now we all know the muffin man,
The muffin man, the muffin man,
Now we all know the muffin man,
That lives on Drury Lane.

I can’t help but think that, Mr. Lehman (first name unknown) wherever he is, would be very pleased and so proud!

The more I think about it, since none of our grade school teachers have ever gone to any of our class reunions (they’re probably all dead by now anyway), the next time I’m at the library, I’m going to look through the old yearbooks of when I was in grade school and find out the first names of all my elementary school teachers! I wish my wife Ava, who’s now retired, was still the Library Director there because I could go after hours. I’ll no doubt wait until there’re no other people around. I’ll bet I’ll really feel weird and uncomfortable seeing all the first names of all my elementary teachers for the first time. I’ll probably still look over my shoulder lest I get caught looking at things that mere mortal men are not entitled to know.