Lisle, Illinois. 4.4.07 Sometimes you can’t make it on your own

Tough, you think you’ve got the stuff
You’re telling me and anyone
You’re hard enough

-U2

Yesterday. Pre-Show. Before beginning the show I have been sharing random happenings and experiences since coming to their town. I do this a lot.
“Met this lady in the coffee shop in town…”
“I noticed the big supermarket in town is…”
That kind of stuff.

So today I said “it was a good flight in until I got on the rental car shuttle. A lady on her cell phone was talking so loud that everyone on the bus could hear her. Perhaps people over 50 should not be given mobile phones until they go through proper training. Her name was Jenny…I know because she called everyone saying “Hi Mark…Its Jenny.” Her voice very very NICE in a midwest way. Think Fargo. Think the lady behind the counter in Planes Trains…Gobble Gobble. Got it? Good. Anyway she goes on “ Hi Scott…this is Jenny” “I just got in so tell your Mom. I should be there soon. Oh yeah. It was a good flight.” This goes on and on and I was just praying for silence. And then this foreign guy sits next to her and she starts up a conversation with him. Real Loud. And I think What if Jenny meets a terrorist. So Khalid Mohammed What brings you to Chicago. Oh your a muslim terrorist. Wooooow. That sounds like fascinating work. Now our pastor was talking about Muslims the other day…What was he saying..Well I don’t remember. Anyway..So go on…your in town…and you wanna kill…So how does that work.” Jenny. JENNY! Shut up. Shut up Jenny. You must shut up!

It was kind of a funny little bit I did and everyone could relate. Cut to after the show.
Post Show. Q&A

Student asks: “Were you ever like the misanthropic isolated kid Pi in your show?”
Great question and kudos for using the word “misanthropic.”
Reply: “Well uhm. Yeah. And as a matter of fact I still am at times. I think the character of Pi has drifted into addiction in part because of his feelings of isolation.” I then pointed out that part of being young is good old teen angst. You hate stuff. Phony people. Plastic people. Normal people. Adult people. You question authority. And just because you grow up and hopefully are not using drugs it doesn’t mean that you have to lose your edge so to speak. You can still keep your rebel spirit. I jokingly said “ You can still be misanthropic but you learn to do it in a healthy way.” But sooner or later you will have to STOP. Breathe. Reflect. And get out of the rat race in your mind. You have to stop. The scriptures say it. Sabbath translated doesn’t mean “Rest” it means STOP. Its a commandment to take care of yourself.
That last part was from the sermon in church on Sunday from the pastor…But I threw it in at the end as if it was mine. Hey its not copyrighted. Its from the Bible man.

Cut to the next show later that night. Post show conversation with one of the staff from the school. I asked him about how they discipline and deal with “problem” kids. He said something great.
“We don’t assume that kids know everything. They are here to learn not only academics. But behavior. Ethics. Responsibility. Communication skills. We should not assume that a kid already has the tools. We should teach them the tools. So we don’t come down HEAVY on kids because its pointless. Obviously some kids do need to dealt with kind of boldly and aggressive. But most of the time we assume that if a kid acts out or steps out line or falls behind or messes up…Its part of the learning process…And we need to be there to help them clean up the mess”

I said “thats cool. Because often times adults and parents expect more from kids than they are willing to give themselves. If their parents act like a-holes or are inconsiderate or are self medicating then why should they expect their kids to be different. Just like etiquette at the airport the other day. “Some people are such jerks”, I said. People don’t know how to behave in public. They step in front of each-other in line, are impatient, litter…talk loud on cell phones. We need to be taught.”

Next day. Airport. 5:55 AM. Flight leaving at 6:35. Gotta make it. Running. Dragging bags. Gotta make it. No I HAVE to. I need to be in Hartford by 9:30AM so I can be in Worcester by noon for a show at Holy Name Central Catholic High School. This is the only flight that will get me there in time. Lady at United says its too late to check in. CRAP! No way. She said you’ll have to catch a later flight. NO! In five years of doing this show I have NEVER had to miss or cancel a show. NEVER. I’ve been sick. I’ve been in pain. I’ve come from funerals. I have a reputation…And in life thats all you really got with people. I don’t miss shows.

I start running to the gate anyway. The lady says we cannot check those bags. You missed it! I said what if I carry them on. Well you have to combine the three into two. I drop to the ground frantic. I open up all my bags I start rearranging. I realize that I will have to dump all my toiletries in the garbage because of the “no gels and liquids for carry on” rule. Big deal. Cut it loose. Keep combining and zipping. Tick tock. “You missed it sir.” I can’t do it. It won’t fit. I repack and begin to run to the gate anyway. Why. I don’t know. I was frantic. Give it up…Dude you missed it. “Its over Rambo…NO NOTHING IS OVER!” I’m possessed. And as I’m running my wheely bag hits a bad turn and in skateboarding lingo does an olly off of the walkway. This trips up my other bag which trips me up and my laptop case flies off my shoulder and all three bags end up in a pile. I look at my luggage. My baggage if you will. I take my bottle of water and in anger and with all the frustration of traveling like an idiot for four days non-stop…Like the frickin caveman in 2001 with the bone raised high…Slow motion..Camera zoom out…birds fly away…slow motion audio…Nooooooooo I whip the bottle on the ground. It explodes and water runs all over the floor. I stand over my mess. Its over.

As I stand over luggage Jenga…A pilot about 50 years old with slightly grey hair and mustache looks at me… and in voice which is the male equivalent of Jenny…Think Ned Flanders…Got it? Well this guys says” You gonna take care of that Son.” I ignore him. I’m all Homer Simpson right now. Stupid Flanders! He can’t possible be talking to me. “Are you going to clean that up.” he repeats. The audacity of this little do-gooder. Clean it up? Are you serious I’m thinking. I missed my flight. My stuff is all over the floor. Do you not realize. I stare at him and scowl and say. “How!” How am I going to clean that up.” Do you see any towels around…You think I got time for this!” He calmly replies “Well it needs to dealt with son.” OK pause the movie.

You are in my shoes. What would you say to the guy. I’ll give you a moment before I tell you what I said to him. All children under 18 should now leave this blog.

Suddenly I am the misanthropic teenager. Suddenly I feel aggression in my blood. I feel the music of Black Flag and Pantera well up in my heart and I yell at the guy:
“What the Fuck? Clean up the fuckin water. What do you want me to fuckin do? Do you want me to fuckin lick it up?!”
He pauses. He stops. His face gets red. He stays perfectly calm and walks away.

I’m alone. With my spilled water. My baggage. My anger. And now my shame. I hang my head. I’m a total loser. I feel that choked up feeling. Like I’m gonna cry or something. I stare down at the floor. I’m shaking. I watch the water flow toward me. I follow the puddle all the way to its source. I realize its size. I realize this is dangerous. I realize someone could trip on this and get hurt. I realize this needs to be dealt with. Suddenly standing in the water is a polished black shoe of a pilot. And then a pile of napkins drops down next to it. And then a newspaper. “This will be a good start…This will help.” The pilot’s voice says.
I look up. His face is no longer red. He has compassion in his eyes. I stand up and he puts his hand on my shoulder. I’m totally embarrassed.

“Look…I’m really sorry I said that. I’m really sorry I swore and I snapped at you.”
“Thats OK”
“I’m gonna clean this up.”
“They’re sending someone with a mop.”
“Oh…OK…Look I …I’m real sorr-”
“Hey. Its OK. I was watching your whole thing. You’ve had yourself a day huh?”
OK so now I’m gettin really choked up. He continues.
“You had a tough morning huh? God knows I’ve never snapped at anyone” He says joking. “I’ve had my moments” “Everything happens for a reason.” He chuckles.
I’m totally humbled. I turn to wipe the floor. I turn around. He’s gone.
And I feel calm.

I rebook a flight. I call the school and tell them the show is cancelled. I call my wife and tell her I’m gonna be late. I walk to my gate and I have this strange sensation that my soul has just been saved.
I look for the pilot to thank him. To thank him for waking me up. For helping me. For being patient with me. For giving me the tools to clean up my mess. For having compassion. For putting his hand on my shoulder and ignoring the evil words and seeing the scared native behind the death mask.

I will never see that pilot again. But I wanted to write this for all to see. To all teachers, administrators, parents, clergy or whatever…I apologize for swearing in this blog. But if you read this far I think you will see WHY I did not censor myself. What I experienced today was everyday life and I am confronting it honestly.

I am grateful that when I didn’t stop myself someone was there to stop me.
I am grateful that I saw my ugly side for what it truly is…ugly and hurtful.
I am grateful for compassion.
I am grateful that someone was there to give me the tools to clean up my mess.

2 comments

1. Catie says:

   I just wanted to say thank you for coming to my school Thursday to speak to us about drugs and drinking and the horrible effects they have on people. Not only was the show funny, it showed us the truth. The truth about how smoking weed can make someone as smart as Jason turn into a young adult with the mind of a 4 yr old. How drinking, even casually like Melissa did, can lead to such horrible things like date rape, and the truth that just one person can change other peoples’ lives. Sure, it’s a big cliche, but it does happen. It can be 2 hours like your show, or 10 seconds like the skit with the teenagers and the old man. Your show was amazing and I really hope you can come to my school again.

   PS- i read your blog about your adventure at the airport. I love moments like that and how everything happens for a reason. I’m willing to bet that he’ll never forget that guy that he helped clean up his mess. It’d be a good ad for Bounty. lol

   May 4th, 2007 at 5:33 pm

2. Jack says:

   I felt like that today.. at gymnastics watching my special needs daughter working her heart out for the love of it… nothing more… just her love - and her simple desire to be like everyone else…KNOWING she is different…and that is where it hurts me the most… and even in her monumental effort - physically she will not be as advanced at most 7 year olds… so what?
   The young couple next to me marvelled at their five year old… making comments about how she needed to be pushed to EXCELL…. how her technique needed to be honed, how she needed conditioning to strengthen her and allow her to be BETTE… PUSHED!!! I thought..she is a baby… you f@#$ing selfish ignorant a$%(oles… You morons.. WAKE UP! Your lives are perfect… don’t you know it…. you have an audi, you have a big home, you have a PERFECT life, good job are god looking and educated (there is a difference between educated and wise) and you are PUSHING your CHILD …for what…for her? FOR HER????
   Crap.. sometimes I think it is all crap… I felt like killing and a few years ago I might had snapped, but I breathed a deep breath and felt sorry for them… then I watched the resentment at it’s peak within me - felt it- it;s HEAT- it’s power (if I gave into it) …and I let it go away… and I submereged myself in the JOY that my “gymnastic daughter” got from the simplicity of “doing life” just for the love of it… I walked away tonight more proud of my daughter for TRYING prouder than I could have ever imagined… prouder than I feel those other poor young parents felt of their perfect future Olimpian girl..
   ….poor kid….

   August 14th, 2007 at 11:31 pm

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