I’ve probably spent the better part of my life with a foot in my mouth.  The day after my entry in May was a good example.

A slip of paper fell in front of me.  Another teacher had dropped it there asking, ‘have you gotten one of these yet?’

“No,”  I said, as he walked away.

It was a ballot, and my name was at the bottom of it.  At the top, it said Teacher of the Year.  There were eight names, and only one other middle-school teacher’s name was on it; my next-door neighbor who often feels completely ignored by our boss.  I made a dark black check by her name, and dropped it in front of her where she sat across the table from me.

“Congratulations,’ I said, and smiled.

She stared at it for a long time.. grinned at me, and said, “I’m voting for you.”

“You better not,” I said.  “It’ll be the only one, and they’ll assume it was me being selfish…. You’ll give me a bad reputation.”

As the last staff meeting of the year began, the elementary principal stood up and explained the ballots, saying they had randomly walked through our school of 1600 kids and asked students who was their favorite teacher, and whether they would write an essay about them to explain why.  She read a single quote from each letter for the 350 staff members to hear before voting.  Elementary teachers had comments written about them like, “She’s perfect,’ or “she’s  the greatest teacher that ever lived.’

When my name came up, she read, “Mr. Marantino made me like Social Studies… I always hated that class until I got him as my teacher.”

It was kind… but far from ‘perfection’ and for the first time ever I felt honored just to be nominated.

Two and half hours passed before our meeting came to its end, and that principal stood up to read the results.  I wasn’t nervous a bit.  There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that I had taken dead last, so I mentally rehearsed my applause to look as approving as possible.

The third and second place finishers were announced to resounding applause.  I was the only male on the ballot, and as our boss looked to first place, he paused.  “We’re sure going to miss him next year when he leaves for Denver,” he said.  “His name will be engraved on a plaque for next year, and we have some gifts for him up front here.”  My heart might have skipped two beats.  Everyone at my table was grinning ear-to-ear, and when my name was announced, I was the last to stand.  I felt like a fraud.  Worse yet, every poor-little-me emotion from the pit of my stomach turned to guilt.

They gave me a standing ovation.  People shook my hands as I walked to the front of the room, and several teachers whom I barely know, stopped me for a hug.  I was sitting in the back corner of the room, because that’s where people sit who don’t get noticed.  What a crock of shit.

Currently Annie Hall By Woody Allen, Diane Keaton, Tony Roberts, Carol Kane, Janet Margolin see related

The editor of GQ wrote in a recent editorial that the more friends a person has on Facebook, the less actual friends they have in reality.  I looked around to see if he was correct, and he is.  People with rich social lives don’t need Facebook to broadcast it. 

Throughout my life I’ve lamented the lack of true friends that I’ve ever had.  Moving from one location to the next never allowed me any real time to develop a history with anyone, therefore I’ve left 3-5 year relationships in my wake all over the state.  When it came to reliability, few people have ever been there for me.

I was on a long drive one evening, and started calling every familiar name in my phonebook to catch up.  Had I been in any imminent danger, there would have been no salvation.  I spoke to one voice-mail after another, and discovered how few people my cell-phone actually connected me to.  I’m guilty of intentionally ducking phone calls from certain people, but never old friends.  The realization felt hollow.

Plans are often my nemesis.  I can’t count the number of times I’ve convinced someone to do something on a Saturday in two weeks, only to have them cancel on the day before.  It’s difficult not to live in the disappointment of unreliable friends.

The old man held his fist up for that once hip knuckle-to-knuckle bump that Obama made acceptable for old men in suits behind a cash register.  I had just told him that I wear a tie more often than my peers at work, and his sensibility told him that I was his kind of guy.

“Men have got no class anymore,” he told me.  “You keep doing what you’re doing, because I get sick to my stomach when I see these young guys who call themselves professionals and look like shit all the time.

Soon before my first real love got married, she secretly came back to see me.  We spent the night together in each other’s arms before she left to take her vows.  She told me all of the things about me that she missed the most.  At the top of her list, was the fact that in two years, she had never once gotten into my vehicle before I had opened her door.  She didn’t like it when I started, but as she spoke of it that night, there was a lovingness in her eyes that I hadn’t seen in years… I always walked on the street side of the sidewalk, and pulled out her chair at dinner.  She was the focus of my evening whenever we were together.

            But our classless society has made these things embarrassing to the women that I’ve done this for in the past.  When a fling became something more just recently, I started to show her a bit of respect, and the connection died. 

            I related the situation to a female friend the other night.  I made all the mistakes of the nice guy in high school.  In college, I learned to be an asshole, thus learning to get laid.  It seemed that every girl I met, wanted to be seen as exciting, so they let their guard down for any idiot with a decent smile and a witty remark.  I see them getting younger now.  I’ve caught 13 year olds in my class discussing how to give an expert blowjob.  My stomach still cringes to think of their fathers.

            Men lowered their expectations of a woman, and women complied.  They’ve always been in control of the speed of a relationship, but somehow the degradation of our society has allowed the base interests of the imbecile to infect the self-worth of women who crave popularity.

That old man behind the counter was right.  Men don’t have any class anymore, and I’m under the impression that women have come to expect this, and strangely enough, desire it.

I’m a 26-year-old dinosaur with the growing impression that I’m surrounded by trash.

R.I.P. Self Respect

Currently Field of Dreams (Widescreen Two-Disc Anniversary Edition) By Kevin Costner, James Earl Jones, Ray Liotta, Amy Madigan, Gaby Hoffmann see related

In the end of my favorite movie Field of Dreams, Ray, the main character, doesn't get an invitation that he desperately wanted.  He gets angry, and reminds them, "I've done everything I've been asked.... what's in it for me?"

            A ghostly Shoeless Joe Jackson looks back at him in perplexed disappointment.  “What are you saying Ray?”

            “I’m asking,” he paused, “what’s in it for me?”

            Jackson squints, “is that why you did this Ray? For you?”

            It takes some cajoling, but Ray is convinced to ignore the fact that he had worked throughout the entire movie to create the story and everyone in it, only to be told by one of his guests; “but you’re not invited.”

            Ray makes the humble decision, and watches his co-star walk away with jealousy brewing in his stomach, only to discover that the movie’s greatest reward is left for him to see standing not too far away.  The ghost of his dead father, a man he never met, is waiting to speak with Ray, as the movie’s three biggest quotes ring through his head, and he realizes that what was in it for him, was this impossible reunion with the father he never knew.

It’s a brief lesson in humility… one I understand all too well right now.

It seems like I’m bending over backwards, and no one knows it but me.  All the past gratitude and thank yous seem to disappear when a person feels undervalued, taken-for-granted, or unloved.

When the last school-day was over, I sat in silence, and wondered if anyone had ever recognized the sacrifices I had made.  I wondered who had ever seen the hours I put in, or the effort I had made to improve someone else’s day… the truth is, it seemed as though no one had ever stopped to care.  So few had ever said thank you for all that I had done.  Worse yet, even fewer had meant it.  I can’t complain that I’ve never been recognized… it just it didn’t feel like enough… and I thought about Ray.

            Like Ray, I’ve worked tirelessly without question, always hoping that there may be some reward in the end.  Life kicks us while we’re down, but we never show the hardship that we’re enduring.  And when the work comes to a culmination; when it all should pay off… it doesn’t, and we’re left with anger, wondering why everyone else should receive the benefit, when everyone else is better off because of our toil.

            In the Hollywood version, Ray discovers the hard way that his reward was there; it just wasn’t what he expected.  I’m still not sure whether my story will end with the same satisfaction.

            The rewards from teaching aren’t monetary.  Some students have flattered me, but not as many as I’d hoped.  I should know better though.  It doesn’t matter that I’ve done better work this year.  Few people ever have the foresight to look at anyone else and show appreciation.

There are so many people in my life who will never know the painstaking measures I’ve taken to improve their situation, but to tell them seems ingenuine, so the burden lies in my conscience.  Ray and I know we’re not selfish; we feel deserving of a bit of credit, and are stirred with anger when the credit doesn’t come.  But demanding credit is selfish… so instead we wait, and wait, and wait through God’s seemingly torturous test of virtue to discover the purpose of our unappreciated lives.

            I wish there were some grand conclusion here.  I wish I could pan-out of the scene like the movie did, and see the whole picture with 20/20 hindsight, and understand my angst.  I can’t see it…and don’t know if I ever will.  I have to stop and remind myself that I don’t deserve anything.  I made the choice to help people in ways that would never find out.  I often chose to do it anonymously.  Nobody owes me anything, and though that may be a hard pill to swallow, it’s one I needed to take quite some time ago.

            About a year and a half ago, some random woman paid for my coffee in the Starbucks drive-through, just to be nice.  I wrote her license plate down in hopes to someday re-pay her, but never saw her again.  I wonder if she feels the same way I do right now.  I’ll assume she does… and hope there are a thousand more people out there who’ve waited to help me in the way that I’ve helped them, and just never got the chance.  It’s the most optimistic view I can salvage from this trip through self-pity, but its enough to get me to continue doing good deeds without any expectation for retribution.  It’s a lesson I want to start my next class with in the Fall. 

There just aren’t enough good deeds out there, but luckily there are people like Ray and I to make ends meet…

Currently Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson By Johnny Depp, Hunter S. Thompson see related

I’ve jumped out of an airplane, bungee jumped, rock-climbed and SCUBA-dived in the open ocean.  I’ve driven a car over 140 mph on an open New Mexico highway, and stayed upright while bombing down a double-black diamond on skis.  I hiked to the summit of the highest peak in Colorado, and touched fish 25 feet underwater.  I watched an outdoor hockey game at 50 degrees below zero, and lived in Texas when it was over 100 degrees, every day for a month.  .

            I’ve seen the Eiffel Tower, and the border of North Korea; the Coliseum in Rome and ancient Mayan pyramids in Mexico.  I drank Sake in Tokyo, and wheat beer in Munich.  I rode gondolas through the watery channels of Venice, and over the rocky slopes of Alaska.  I’ve crossed two oceans, and seen two foreign continents.  I stood atop one of the highest buildings in the world, and once spoke with a billionaire.