This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

Editor's note • Robert Kirby was last seen heading south, cannon in tow. This is a reprint of an earlier column.

My age caught up with me on Tuesday. The occasion was a trip to the BYU library for the purpose of research. I got more than I bargained for.

The campus was a mink farm. A billion sleek and eager kids swarmed the place, each and every one of them simply beside themselves with energy, optimism and hormones.

Thirty years have passed since I did the back-to-school scene. I forgot just how important the process is to kids. More importantly, I had forgotten just how much it taught me.

With a nod of respect to Robert Fulghum, all I really needed to know I learned in the first five minutes of kindergarten. Every grade after that was just extra credit.

Back to school still costs money. My mom could do it for about 25 bucks a head. But these days it costs hundreds for the guys, and into the thousands for some girls.

Every year, I got a new pair of sneakers, some jeans, assorted shirts, pencils and a lecture from the old man about good citizenship that ended with a few ill-concealed threats.

These were things my parents thought I needed, stuff the school expected them to supply. They did their best but never got me what I really needed. Probably because what I needed was the right attitude, something I could only supply myself.

School, like nearly all of life's most important situations, is decided in the first moments. Those first impressions leave lasting ones.

For example, I recognized immediately in school that it's not a good idea to take your work home with you. Work should be left at the office. My grades reflect an early maturity on this subject.

I also realized that clothes do indeed make the man, or rather that the complete absence of them on the first day will make the man go to principal's office.

Sizing up bullies is also a serious back-to-school science. The world is full of them, and the sooner you identify who they are, the easier it is to avoid (or provoke) them.

Basically, you look for subtle signs, a supraorbital brow, an inhuman gleam to an eye, or simply anyone who could already shave in elementary school. In the fourth grade, that person was Nancy.

School had not even begun before Nancy taught me two important life lessons, specifically that big does not always mean fat, and that slow of thought does not automatically mean slow of fist.

Along with their new clothes, students should bring back to school a deep suspicion toward all forms of authority. Rather than swallow everything they are told, students should demand proof.

Really, it is possible to get a teacher sidetracked away from pop quiz by demanding proof that the earth circles the sun. While they are busy doing it, you can slip away to the mall instead.

These back-to-school tips are what got me where I am today. If nothing else, they should serve as dire warnings.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.