This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated.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.
On one of the last days of sixth grade, I watched a classmate empty a large collection of folded notes from her girlfriends into the wastebasket.
Most of them were folded into those origami triangles girls that age seem to like. They were easily passed from one hand to another, folded to protect from prying eyes, conveniently concealed. Yeah, sort of like drug bindles.
When Sharon left, I casually wandered over and stuffed my pants pockets fore and aft with the notes for the purposes of future perusal. It was unethical and rude, but we're talking about me.
That evening was my first exposure to the viciousness of gossip, a form of conversation that human beings use to talk about others without fear of repercussion.
At least three of the notes featured me as the primary topic, including one that expressed the opinion that I was both "stupid" and a "prevert" [sic].
Note: It probably says a lot about me that I knew the correct spelling of the word "pervert" in the sixth grade.
The most painful note was written by the prettiest girl in the class and a frequent eager participant in my daydreams. Brenda emphatically stated she would "rather kiss a dog's [bottom] than touch Bobby Kirby."
The comment might have killed a normal/lesser boy, but since my shortcomings had routinely been pointed out by other kids and adults since the day I started school, I had a fairly thick skin.
Still, it hurt. So I did what any sixth grade class "prevert" would do with the notes: I posted some on bulletin boards throughout the school. The rest I passed directly to the people about whom they were written.
Couple of things happened that I didn't expect. First was a ruckus in the girls' restroom, the noise of which I wouldn't hear again until a bar fight in the military.
I didn't actually see the fighting, but I heard wailing, screaming and friendships being scratched apart. It took several teachers (including two who had received notes) to quell it.
Second, after school I was chased halfway home, beaten and pantsed by the boyfriends of the authors of the notes. It was humiliating at the time, but I got over it long before I got over what Brenda had written about me.
They didn't get over it so easily. One of the notes was to Sharon from another girl saying that Brenda was stuck-up. They hated each other clear through high school, so I figured we were even.
These days, the Internet is an elementary school garbage can. Everyone can dump their mean comments into it thinking they no longer matter. But if they're not careful, just about anyone can read them.
Worse are the people who don't even bother hiding their contempt for others and remain indifferent to the pain they cause. But they end up paying for it just the same.
It's a good lesson in minding our manners. Social media is probably responsible for the destruction of more friendships and marriages than any other single activity in the world. OK, fine — with the exception of religion.
Maybe this is a good post-election takeaway. A lot of mean and vicious things were said during this past campaign. Will the president we got be worth the relationships we lost?
Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.