My family moved four times as I was going through school, so I have distinct memories of four sets of kids in different Central Jersey towns. I used to often wonder what happened to them, but now I can use Google or Facebook to complete the narrative of their lives. One of the smartest kids I encountered was Buck R.
Buck was among the top three smartest kids in my eighth grade class, and that was a class in which almost everyone was bright. Wealthy parents meant more tax money for the schools. We lived in snobby Holmdel, N.J. that year. In Holmdel, everyone sneered at you if you didn’t wear the right clothes (one kid insulted our math teacher by joking that he bought his ties at K-Mart). Then again, maybe that’s just how it was in junior high in the 1980s.
Anyway, Buck R. was handsome and looked sort of like Doogie Howser, with a scrunched-up nose. He talked kind of slow, which made any funny thing he said even funnier. There are two fairly amusing things he said that I remember the whole class laughing at:
1. We had a substitute teacher for social studies one day. Anyone who has been in the gifted/smartypants/honors classes knows that sometimes the smart kids can be just as obnoxious as the other classes, only less threatening. They’re wiseasses and they think they’re superior to the teacher. So this day, my classmates were riling up the sub.
The sub said, “You’re acting retarded.” (I know it wasn’t a very nice thing for an adult to say, but our subs were not always the swiftest people.)
Buck responded, in his calm, slow manner, “Yeah, we’re the retarded gifted and talented class…” which got several people roaring.
2. Whenever we got done early with our work in class, for instance, before Christmas break or on a half day, the class would clamor for Trivial Pursuit. That’s usually how the teachers passed the time on one of those non-work giddy days. They’d break the class in half and one side would play the other side.
So we were playing Trivial Pursuit and our teacher asked us this question: “What is the number one reason for divorce in the United States?”
Buck suddenly burst out, “IM-potency.”
That also got a big laugh, probably because of the matter-of-fact way he said it, and just the fact that he said it at all.
I didn’t know Buck too well, as I was shy and didn’t really get close to anyone during the year before we moved. But my writerly mind was always chronicling the events, keeping a mental note of who was who and wondering who we would all grow up to be. Buck was relatively quiet and also relatively well liked.
Anyway, I Googled Buck years ago. He had gone to Harvard Law and become a manager at Goldman Sachs. It seemed a rather dull occupation, but work doesn’t make the man. That was about all that showed up about Buck on the ’net.
Until I happened to hear something funny a few weeks ago.
TV host Stephen Colbert was complaining about Wall Street executives and their bonuses. He mentioned that one of his writers had found the Goldman Sachs credit card of a manager there. He held it up on TV and threatened to reveal one number of the card each night on the show unless the owner came on the show to defend the bonuses.
Who does the card belong to? Of course, Buck R.! (Colbert also made fun of his very Yuppie sounding first and last name).
The Washington Post describes the event thusly: “It doesn’t seem as if it would be hard to book a guest on Stephen Colbert’s show, but last night Colbert took to a new way of encouraging a guest to come on the show: blackmail. One of Colbert’s staffers found a credit card of one Buckley T. Ratchford. A quick Google search shows Ratchford is a partner at Goldman Sachs. He also married last March, according to the New York Times wedding announcements. Colbert has a simple proposition for Ratchford: Come on his show and talk about Wall Street bonuses or Colbert will give away his credit card information. Ratchford could easily cancel his credit card and ignore Colbert’s demands, but where would the fun be in that?”
The comments on some writeups of the Colbert monologue have resulted in nasty or just plain strange internet posts about Buck. One guy writes: “Buckley T. Ratchford sounds like an ironic name for a Williamsburg pet cat.” Another says: “Ah, Buckley! Remember me? It’s [me], old boy! Dartmouth Crew ’94. You were quite the pip in those days Buck…a real rabble rouser as they say. HaHa! Well, I see this liberal stooge Colbert has stolen your plastic princess. No worries, old Buck…”
It appears that Buck has briefly become famous, or perhaps infamous. Hopefully he’s canceled his also infamous credit card and learned to keep things from falling out of his wallet.
Caren Matzner is the Reporter’s editor. Want to comment on this piece or submit your own? E-mail editorial@hudsonreporter.com. and put “Midweek Essays” in the subject head.