Jeff Runsten and the sandwich split

After moving to Modesto, California in December 1985, it seemed like it would be forever before I would find another good close friend. Mom and Dad even set up a conference call with my old class in Montpelier to help cheer my spirits. We moved during the middle of my 5th grade year, and it seemed that all of the kids in Mr. T's class already had their particular clique, and didn't need new members.

Almost immediately, I identified the group I wanted to be a part of. They were the smart/funny/arrogant ones (aka the popular kids), Jeff Runsten and Randy. Jeff later told me that he and Randy would sit at the back of the class and punch their fists whenever I would answer a question (like they were going to pummel me). I didn't know this at the time. They thought I did.

Towards the end of the fifth grade, Jeff and I became better friends, and I spent a good chunk of my summer at his house. I would go over to his house (a block or two behind Fremont Elementary), and we would make and split a sandwich. We would take turns making the sandwich out of whatever was in his refrigerator, and then we would cut it down the middle. We followed the tried and true method of splitting sandwiches "You cut, I choose." I would always try to choose the smaller half, and then I would be slightly perturbed when Jeff would do the same.