Duck for Boomerangs

Talk about a mixed bag, poor Lem seemed to catch life’s leftovers and I don‘t know how unluckier a kid in our town could have been born.


He was short, Jewish, had red 'Harpo' hair with ringlet curls that looked like copper plumber’s fittings, eyeglasses like two Petri dishes on stems hung over the bridge of a disproportionate nose.

Lemuel was destined to find himself in high school, shunned by athletes but proficient and welcome in the Radio Club, Science Club, Chess Club. He could always be singled-out from the marching band by the perpetually crooked, feathered band hat on the clarinet player’s head, earning him the nickname, “Pisa-Shit.”


Worse, Lem endured the suffering of being born with the surname, Lippschitz, (yes, pronounced LIP-shits), which made a much rougher and uphill road than had he been tall and handsome, or born blessed with the arm to throw a football 50 yards. His ethnicity was never an issue in our school, one whose Jewish kids excelled in every area, and got due respect for their achievements, from students and teachers, alike.


If ridicule were a magnet, Lemuel Lippschitz would have been the nuclear powered intergalactic electromagnet for mocking but he just seemed to trudge onward, oblivious to all that flew his way, and even the bullies gave up, realizing this kid had heard and endured it all.


I pitied and never picked on him...well, except for one time at a home football game’s half-time when the band was on the icy field and I rocketed a snowball toward him, It hit the clarinet's music holder thingy, causing him to slip and drop his horn, but you gotta know it was a one-in-a-million shot, and, hey, I was 15. We busted guts laughing and I got hi-fives for months when feigning a baseball throw walking across campus.


Nobody was surprised Lippschitz was a no-show for our 20th high school reunion. On the other hand, safe to say the whole room was in stunned silence when the committee played Lem’s “You Tube” apology for not attending.

It was taken from his house in Mallorca, Spain, citing that his absence was for a dinner commitment he had with his next door neighbor.

And that's when Heidi Klum stepped into the frame, waved, and said, “Hi, everyone! I had to steal him for the evening!,” as she slipped her arm around his and they exchanged checks on the peeks... omfg I can't even write this, right... PECKS...CHEEKS!

I hated that geeky, goofy-looking 'patheticism on two legs'  and wondered what lotto he hit to escape from total geekdom.

Have you noticed age sure hasn't been that kind to Heidi Klum? I mean she's hot, but not what she was.

I wonder if Lem-'tard spilled a drink on her.