Academic excellence comes in strange ways and then vanishes quickly

In the course of nearly 25 years of school, I managed to come across some teachers with some odd gimmicks.

In the mid '70s, when I was trying to get my mojo back taking some junior college courses, I signed up for Sociology 101 and met a teacher who gave the final exam on the first day of class.

The deal was to give his students some idea of what the class would cover. He offered one incentive. Anyone who earned a passing grade on the final could leave, never show up again and he would give them a B with no work at all.

On a 90-80-70-60 grading scale, 60 percent or better would win the Kewpie doll. He said he had been doing it for three years and no one had ever passed the final on the first day.

So we took the test. I think he had four classes with about 150 students, and he came in a few days later to tell us that one of his 150 students had earned a 62 on the test. A pretty bad grade at the end of the quarter, a pretty good one at the beginning.

I think I was 23, and when it came to school, I was totally f**ked up. I had flunked out of college three times between 1969 and 1971, and I had no clue at all what I was doing with my life.

One might think displaying enough knowledge to pass the final would have made it easy for me to earn an A in the class, but that wasn't the way I rolled then. I took the B and never showed up again.

After a few years working for the government and then living overseas with my first wife, I went back to school five years later with a plan in mind and the goal of being a journalist. I went back to the junior college to clean up some credits and I signed up for the second part of the Sociology class.

Same teacher.

Same gimmick.

He apparently didn't remember me, which was no shock. I had been in his class for two days five years ago.

He told the class his gimmick, and he said that in the eight years he had been teaching, only one student had ever succeeded on the first day.

A few days later he came in to tell us that number now was two. Actually one. But twice.

He asked me what I wanted to do this time.

I was 28, and the last time I had done really well in school was sixth grade. I got straight A's all through elementary school and then went into the tank. Once I made it to college, I started cutting classes and eventually even cutting final exams.

The word is "self-destructive."

But in the spring of 1978 -- 11 years after high school -- I had found myself wondering if maybe I no longer had the potential I had as a little kid. I had washed out too many times to be confident, and I told myself that for one quarter, I would do something I hadn't done since high school.

I would attend every class and do every assignment. I remembered Woody Allen saying 80 percent of life is just showing up.

I told sociology guy this time I would try for the A.

I had four classes that spring, two of them in areas I had never done well -- science and foreign languages. I was taking Chemistry, Elementary German, Sociology and a fourth class I have long since forgotten what it was. I attended every class, turned in every assignment, took every test and even did some studying.

And for the first time since sixth grade, I got A's in every class.

I figured I was on my way to a brilliant academic career at George Mason, but in my second semester there, my marriage fell apart and it was all I could do to get through school with enough to launch my 28-year career as a journalist.

My kids did much better in school than I did. Pauline earned two degrees from UCLA cum laude and Virgile didn't get anything lower than an A in his major at Cal State Northridge.

He always said the best advice I ever gave him was the Woody Allen quote.

Of course, I got it wrong.

I always thought it was 90 percent.

Most of the time I couldn't even do 80.

I sure am lucky to have such great kids.