Advanced Displacement

The first time the SJG heard the expression "gifted," the eldest was in kindergarten.  The "gifted" buzz was suddenly a thing.  Is your child gifted?  Has your child been tested?  Is your child highly gifted, moderately gifted, semi-gifted, or, God forbid, NOT gifted?  Oy vey. Such a shanda to be un-gifted.  Everything was about gifted this, gifted that. Seemingly overnight, "gifted" meant something big.  You wanted your kid to be academically gifted.  Your kid, on the other, didn't give a sh*t about being gifted.  Unless it meant toys and Game Boys and other fun stuff coming his way.  That was the only gifted he cared about.  The gifted ones only got more homework.  Congratulations, brainy ones! Guess who never gets to go outside and play ever again?  You!

A gathering of the Highly Un-Gifted

Where did this gifted business come from, anyway?  I can't tell you.  I'd probably have to go back to school to find out.  I don't want to go back to school.  In school, I was never pegged gifted.  In school, I was put in remedial math just for getting a "C."  So, don't talk to me about gifted. Occasionally, I landed by accident in an advanced class.  Someone in the front office messed up, and there I was in Advanced Sitting, surrounded by smarties.  I felt out of place, but I did my best to sit in an advanced way.  Advanced was a big thing, back then.  In college, the SJG took Advanced Kvetching.  I excelled.  I took Advanced Worrying.  I aced it.  I took Advanced Denial.  I failed that one.  These days, I'm into a different type of advanced.  Advanced Bone-Creaking.  Advanced Nasal Difficulties.   Advanced Where-Did-I-Put-My-Phone.  When it comes to advanced, at this stage of the game, I'm plenty gifted.