My mom taught high school quite a few years back at a place called Walton HS in the Bronx, New York. Around 1966 or so I happened to be helping her get some books from a bookroom at the school to take to her class. In those days (do they do this still?) the books would have a list on the inside cover which each student who used the book had to sign. By utter and total coincidence I picked up a single copy of Tennyson's "Idylls of the King", and found in it the signature of ... Lanni1 !!!!
No, actually it was not Lanni's signature at all. I don't even think Lanni was alive then. What it was, though, was my mom's signature, as she had attended the school about 450 years before, I think shortly after the invention of the printing press. At that point I realized a) that my mom had actually once been a "kid" herself , albeit in medieval times, and b) that Tennyson's poetry would probably be inflicted on ME as well at some point, as indeed it was, about 12 years later. Evil stuff.