When Get Out! was a brutally handsome junior in high school, he was forced to spend the summer attending summer school to pass English. Unlike some of my summer classmates, I not only knew how to read, I loved to read. What I didn’t like to do was actually attend English class, and thus summer school was required. However, like Virginia Slims, Get Out! has come a long way, baby! Nearly two years ago, the Express was gracious enough to give me an opportunity to write this column, and it has allowed me to meet some really interesting Pembrokians along the way.

Get Out! understands the holidays can offer up a wide array of emotions for Pembrokians. For many, Christmas is a treat because people are reunited with their families to celebrate. For others, Christmas is a nightmare because people are reunited with their families to celebrate. Christmas vacation offers up a chance for many parents to take the week off from work and spend time with their kids. There is, of course, a flip side to that for some as well.

Get Out! has had a long, healthy relationship with Santa Claus.

Get Out! doesn’t often suggest that you get out and do something important. Sometimes I recommend where to see a band or where to grab a bite to eat. This week, however, I’m recommending you do something that can tangibly change the future of your town. Special Town Meeting will be taking place on Tuesday, Nov. 3 at 7:30 p.m. at the high school auditorium.

Get Out! is about to drop some Halloween knowledge on you. I’ve always enjoyed Halloween. I have an addiction to chocolate that is so severe I keep waiting for friends and family to stage an intervention. I also like dressing up in orange and, frankly, I like scaring people. Boo!

Get Out! can hit a golf ball farther than any person in Pembroke. Facts are a stubborn thing, my friends. Now, I have virtually no control over the direction of where the crushed golf ball lands; I just know it goes very, very far. Sometimes it goes far into a pond, sometimes it goes far into a sand trap, but usually it just goes far into the woods. My golf balls have attacked more trees in Pembroke recently than the Massachusetts Highway Department has. Some people golf to close business deals. Others golf for the exercise, and many simply golf because they are addicted to trying to overcome the incessant punishment that a tiny white ball can inflict on one’s confidence. Whatever the reason, there’s no better one than playing golf for a good cause.

Get Out! is back and better than ever. Many of you have probably been concerned about my whereabouts as my column has been missing for the past few weeks. Fear not. The last column I wrote was about an event that ended up being canceled, so the piece didn’t run. I have not been slacking. This Saturday, Sept. 19 at 7 p.m., the Pembroke Country Club will play host to a trio of local comedians. Now, I love good stand-up. I love unintentionally bad stand-up. If you are standing up and I’m watching you, I probably am enjoying myself.

Get Out! could get lost on a dead end street. My sense of direction is, on good days, woeful. Recently, my wife received a GPS unit as a gift and I immediately stole it from her. She owns maps, atlases and could likely travel to work by following the stars if need be. GPS seemed like a wonderful thing at the outset.

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Back in Get Out!’s rock ‘n’ roll days, one of the places I played constantly was the tastefully named Lizard Lounge in Cambridge. Situated next to Harvard University, the club remains a hotspot for music, drawing bands from all over the planet. There were many memorable shows there.

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Get Out! rarely speaks about his dog Belvedere. A six-year-old Weimaraner, she and I once were inseparable. She was the Cher to my Sonny. The Ponch to my Jon. We’d spend hours together walking beaches and hurling Frisbees. It was love!

Get Out! went under the knife this past week. A hernia operation has left me with little to do other than to take painkillers on a regular schedule and sleep a lot. Many other arts and entertainment columnists surely would have said they can’t write a column due to the brutal pain they are suffering. Get Out! laughs at them! I’m here and I’m ready.

Any of you who are regular readers of Get Out! know that this column is typically light-hearted and I do my best to mix in bad jokes with hard-hitting journalism on things like “where to take your kids on April vacation” or “why you should check out the new local restaurant.”

Get Out! grew up on the mean streets of Foxboro in the shadows of Foxboro Stadium. Every summer, like clockwork, a flood of people in tie-dyed clothing would roll into town to celebrate the arrival of the Grateful Dead. Fourteen years ago, their leader Jerry Garcia died, yet the enthusiasm of the “Dead Heads” has hardly waned.

Get Out! can’t seem to stop thinking about food lately. My last column focused on a new Italian restaurant that came to town and this week I’ll be raving about the eighth annual Taste of Pembroke fundraiser that will be held at Pembroke Knights of Columbus on Route 139 on Sunday, March 22 from noon to 3 p.m.

There are times when Get Out! likes to rock and times he likes to roll. There are times he likes to hip and times he likes to hop. However, occasionally, there are times when he enjoys kicking back to the soothing sounds of the nylon strings of classical guitars.