uncovering the truth

It was a Monday night, Doris Kearns Goodwin was in town to publicize her new book on Abraham Lincoln, and I had decided to put the claims of my 11th grade AP U.S. History teacher to the test.

After a scintillating 90 minute discussion of Abe's political genius, past scuffles with plagiarism accusations, and the merits of the designated hitter rule, I followed the masses to the lower level of Bass Hall to purchase a signed copy of Team of Rivals.

What I really wanted to know was: does Mr. B. really know her? Eight years ago - holy shit, almost a decade? - I was sitting in class, listening to a voice recording of Kearns Goodwin that B. had brought in from his answering machine as show-and-tell. I remember not what was said in the recording, but that Mr. B was giddy with excitement at having concrete proof that he was an acquaintance, possibly even a colleague, of a reknowned author. In all likelihood most of us rolled our eyes and we moved on with the regularly scheduled lesson.

Now, years later, I still vividly remember the day when I saw a grown man become excited at the mere thought of knowing a well-known historian. And here was my chance to see if that excitement was justified.

"I have to say, I completely agree with your statement that everyone should have a history teacher that can generate excitement. I once had such a teacher who taught AP U.S. History in Sharon, MA named J.B. Do you know him?"

"Sorry... I don't think so."

I feel so betrayed.