I was never a Jumpin’ Jack Flash fan. The popular Rolling Stones tune surely has different meaning than my interpretation of the words.
During recess in elementary school we’d do jumping jacks. The routine shook milk money out of my pant’s pocket.
In junior high, there was one kid named David Cash (not his real name), who’d pass gas during PE class. Smart students quickly learned to stay away from David, especially when we performed jumping jacks.
During high school, Jeff Thimsen taught me a new version of the exercise. We’d stand at the very back where Coach White couldn’t see our feet. When other students were spreading legs, we’d only raise our hands. I suppose from up front it looked kosher enough.
Things went well for several weeks until our physical education aide, Ricky Bowen, caught us. With Coach White dictating the punishment, Ricky made us do jumping jacks the next day for the whole 30-minutes. Bowen was a good friend and whenever “Coach” wasn’t around, he’d let us slide by allowing the Thimsen method.
The lyrics to Jumpin’ Jack Flash are somewhat archaic, yet one word in it does relate to my jumping jack days.
“I was born in a cross-fire hurricane.
And I howled at the morning driving rain.
But it’s all right now, in facts, it’s a gas.
But it’s all right, I’m Jumpin’ Jack Flash.
It’s a gas, gas, gas.”
Whenever Mick Jagger bellows out the words gas, gas, gas, he has to be referring to David Cash. I wonder if Mick also went to school with him?