No, That’s Not The Reason

Posted on August 12, 2024 by Scott Smith

(Bad Word Alert! Though it’s part of a quoted sentence…therefore even my mother would forgive its use in this case). 

During my time on Facebook, a comment on a friend’s wall appeared in my feed to which I responded.  In the post, some of my friend’s friends–were singing  the praises of the football coach at their alma mater, the University of South Carolina.

I believe I was the only interloper in the conversation, when I offered an unfavorable opinion about the coach. 

What followed were several replies like this:  “Of course you do. People hate  Steve Spurrier just because he wins!” 

Hmmmm. It’s not like that at all.

My response was this, “When he became the head coach at my school it had never won a conference championship in its history though  his teams  won six during his tenure, as well as a national championship.  He also won the Heisman Trophy when he was a student many years before. I don’t care how many games, awards, or championships he wins. I can’t stand Steve Spurrier because he’s an asshole.”

(OK, I quoted myself….sorry, Mom).

Over the years, I have had similar exchanges with friends, acquaintances, and relative strangers (and strange relatives)  if I express a negative (or even a tepid) opinion about a politician, a CEO, an athlete, or a comedian they are fond of. 

People often conclude–prematurely and incorrectly– that my disdain for any  public figure must be  rooted in my jealousy of: championship rings, company’s market capitalization, an election victory. 

Not at all, my disdain is most likely  because that public figure is a total asshole, or even a fractional asshole.

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Broadcast Debut

Posted on July 12, 2024 by Scott Smith

In a work  conversation a several months ago, I used the term “Popeye Moments” to describe feelings of exasperation, where screaming Popeye the Sailor’s catchphrase “That’s all I can stands and I can’t stands no more,” seems like an appropriate next step.

Often this is a precursor to a vigorous, occasionally uncharacteristic, response to a stressful situation. Fittingly, one of my earliest Popeye moments that I can recall was directed at a member of Popeye’s family.

Actually it was  an actor who portrayed  a live-action version of Poopdeck Pappy (Popeye’s dad in the cartoons) on a Norfolk, Virginia-area television station.

We left that area when I was quite young, though Poopdeck Pappy was one of two children’s show hosts that I remember from that market. I didn’t mind Pappy, though the other host I recall was a man in clown makeup (oh for fuck’s sake!), I used to run from the TV when  “Bungles”  came on.

When I was not yet 3 years old, and seated in a shopping cart in a store–the Commissary (grocery), or the Exchange (department store)–on the naval base in Norfolk, when a man with a white beard, clad in dress blues, approached my father with a microphone and asked him a few questions.

I recognized that it was Pappy from (black and white) TV, but seeing him in three dimensions, and in color, were a bit unsettling for my young mind.

I stared at him as he and my father chatted for a few moments, then he asked me: “Hey son, how’d ya like to meet Bungles?” and he tipped the microphone toward my tiny mouth.

And then I saw him, that gawdamn TV clown, and he was approaching me, doing his trademark, pinky finger-only wave…it might as well have been Pennywise, from “It” crawling from the sewer with a knife. My thoughts were much like Tracy Morgan’s:

I’d had all I could stands and I couldn’t stands no more.

My mouth–tiny  no longer– screamed (“bloody murder” according to family lore) into the microphone. I take it Bungles was accustomed to this reaction, because he did a smooth and prompt  about-face and (I assume) went off to terrorize another toddler somewhere in the television  market.

My father matter-of-factly informed Pappy “He’s scared of clowns.”

Though I  am fairly confident that Pappy had already reached that conclusion.

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Something To Talk About

Posted on July 9, 2024 by Scott Smith

For the past few years, most of my work has been with students having special needs, many of whom are non-verbal communicators.

Earlier this year, I worked in a special education classroom at a West Michigan elementary school. It was my very first time in the school, thus I was not at all familiar with the students.

Before the first bell, one of the administrators asked me a question from the hallway, and I walked out to speak to them.  I saw there was a young man sitting outside the door, and I asked him if he was in my class and  if he wanted to come in. He sprung up and walked briskly into the room and chilled on a beanbag chair, about as far as he could get from my desk.

I asked him an occasional  question for the first hour or so to which he responded with either a nod, a head-shake, or a quizzical look that suggested, “I don’t know.”

His participation in the class’s morning meeting, was limited to pointing at objects on the projection screen.

About two, three hours into the school day, I was chatting with the classroom’s paraprofessional about: the students in the class, our own children, travel and eventually current events.

I was startled when the young man jumped up and said, “I know about Kim Jung Un. Have you been to North Korea? There’s two Koreas, right?!?” He then mentioned several countries from around the world as well as a few other topics that interested him.

For the rest of school day, he peppered me with questions and comments, about countries around the world, science, and he even wanted to mix it up with me about whether Michael Jordan was a better basketball player than Wilt Chamberlain.

That day ranks as one of my favorite experiences I’ve had working in schools, primarily because of how entertaining and engaged that young many suddenly, and unexpectedly  became. I’m glad that I had stumbled upon something he’d wanted to talk about. There’s no way I could  have planned that.

I’d rather be lucky than good.

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“I Wish I Had A Camera”

Posted on June 26, 2024 by Scott Smith

In modern times, where we carry pocket-sized computers with AV-production capabilities wherever we go, you almost never hear the phrase “I wish I had a camera.”

There was period in my younger days where I often said those words to myself nearly every day.

In the weeks before I ended my 15-year tenure as a Floridian, I fired off dozens and dozens, of cover letters and copies of my résumé (yes, with the correct spelling of “liaison”) to organizations in Boston, and to a lesser extent Washington DC (where I was staying with some friends). The US was in a recession, so I was rather surprised by the number of interview requests that I received.

For a couple of months, I found myself frequently traveling the length of the “BosWash” megalopolis, carrying a suit and a briefcase. I padded my schedule so that I could reacquaint myself with people and places, and encounter some new ones. I would often drive to my sister’s house in Central Connecticut where, depending on time constraints, I would hang out for a few hours or a couple of days before I headed up North.

On the way back, I would often divert to upstate Massachusetts, and again to Central Connecticut to see family and visit my childhood haunts for Jerry’s pizza or Kimball’s ice cream, or to savor the placidity of Walden Pond, The Delaware Water Gap, or the Little League field where I hit a walk-off grand slam.

I have especially fond, perhaps rose-colored, recollection of that period of my life. <Sigh> I wish I’d had a camera.

The only archival records I have are located in my mind. Since my memories are are decreasing in resolution and color depth, and are likely selectively edited, the Modern Lovers video below, is seeming more and more like it could be a clip from a documentary about my life.

Have you ever wished that you had a camera?

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