Thirty Years of Heinessight's Heinessights
Thirty years ago, Ronald Reagan was the President of the United States, the Soviet Union was in Afghanistan and the idea of owning a Japanese car was someone's idea of a joke. Today, Ronald Reagan is dead, the United States is in Afghanistand and the idea of owning an American car is, if not a joke, then at least slightly amusing. Some things have changed, but some things have remained the same.
It was thirty years ago that a spindly, sarcastic, bleary-eyed sophomore walked into the journalism class of Sequim High School's Prairie Wolf Review in a pair of overalls and a flannel shirt his mother had sewn for him-and the world was changed forever.
Renowned educator and sometimes funny man, Rick Robbins was the teacher for the journalism class of Sequim High School then, when, in either a rare moment of genius, or as another one of his sarcastic attempts at humor, "Mr. Robbins" looked at Matt and said, "You will write for our editorial page under "Heinessight," and so the phenomenon was born.
In the intervening years, Matthew Heines has served in the US Armed Forces, earned a Master's Degree, become a teacher, published three books and even found a woman who would put up with him. To celebrate thirty years of his wit, humor and well, who knows what, Heinessight has gone back and found one of the more colorful stories published in the early days of Matthew Heines' literary career in the almost-prize winning, nearly recognized for its excellence, Prairie Wolf Review.
And so, we go back in time, to revisit the classic poem, 'Twas the Night Before Bentzmas, first published in December of 1981, a week before John Hinkley tried to kill Ronald Reagan.
With all apologies to Lewis Carrol...
Twas the Night Before Bentzmas
by Matt Heines
"Twas the night of the P.A.* game and all
through the stands,
Not a creature was sitting, but clenching
his hands.
Sequim players were ticked, the refs
were not fair,
Coach Cruse paced the sideline pulling
his hair.
Sequim players were eager to go home
to their beds,
But first they wanted to bust up some
heads.
Me in kerchief, kept warm by my
cap,
Was shouting at the refs, "What a
bunch of crap!"
Port Angeles- a seedy logging town and one of our many arch-rivals.
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