It looks like I got a job as a security guard at a school. Yay! I’m actually torn about it. On one hand it is thank God almighty I finally have a job, a decent job, albeit extremely low paying with no hopes of advancement, but a job. The school thing is good news, it might get me back into teaching, & I’m exactly the type of person you’d want to teach your children history & government. And it’s a job as a security guard, part of me, a very big part, instantly jumps to Armed & Dangerous with John Candy as my go to security guard reference & that seems like a lot of fun. This is, of course, aside from the fact that the rational part of me completely understands that I won’t be living in a 1980s comedy. That’s a damn shame. A damn shame.
The only issue I have with the job is the sneaking suspicion that I wouldn’t make a very good security guard. I don’t know if I am capable of being intimidating. I’m a pretty big guy, but size doesn’t really matter when you are crossed with the need to be, well scary. I also don’t want to be armed, at least not at a school. I enjoy guns, but I really hope the conservatives lose the battle to have armed guards at a school. I’ve worked at schools before; I can tell you that is not a good idea. Thankfully, however, I don’t think that will actually come up. I’d much rather laugh.
I have had three strong fantasies since I was a little kid, the first & strongest was the overwhelming desire to be an animated character. Especially in junior high, I really thought it would be a lot of fun to be one of the Warner Brothers. The second was the desire for life to warp into a musical, not really dramatic & I’ve been told by people that I consider to be authorities on the matter, that I should never touch a musical instrument again in my life. I can’t sing to save my life, but I have long thought that I would enjoy a life where people randomly broke into songs over the most mundane think. I really identified with that episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. You know, minus the demons & vampires. But I wouldn’t mind walking down the street & encountering:
They got the mustard out!
I think that would be a hell of a lot of fun, you know?
The third was based entirely on Mel Brooks, ever since I was a little kid I hoped he would somehow become a God, or at least, I hoped that God would have his sense of humor. It would be awesome. I’d much rather live in a world where Blazing Saddles was based on a true story and Tombstone was a work of pure fiction. The world would be a much better place. I’m sure there’s a psychological disorder that comes with these fantasies, but I don’t think it’s anything damaging. Maybe a Peter Pan complex? Who knows?
Back in the day, my father had a hell of a delivery. He was the Ellen Page of his day, he really was, & I mean it as a complement. Ellen Page is my new hero; she has a beautifully dry & deadpan delivery. She does comedy right, she delivers her lines perfectly & I firmly believe that she should have won an Oscar for Juno. I’ve always thought that comedy is done best when the actors play it straight.
My father, for a time, had that belief as well. His best was when, out of the blue, he told me: “I fucked your mother.” Dry as a fucking martini. But lately the stresses of life & age have gotten the better of him & he’s turned crotchety. Now when he tries to be funny he’s too earnest. My friends still get a kick out of him, they still think he’s funny, but they don’t have the exposure to him that I have. They haven’t seen him try to make a joke. It’s a shame what life has done to him. His timing is off now, he refuses to make the dirty jokes he used to, & his delivery is too much like Adam Sandler.
Fidel Castro got me a job opportunity. I’m going to hear back from them in the next couple of days. That’s another thing that makes me edgy about the security guard job. I got it on New Years Eve. My mother always asks us what we want for Christmas & if we don’t reply we get a sweater. I never wear sweaters but I have a closet full of them. So I asked for a T-shirt with Fidel Castro on it. A lot of my friends still wear the Che shirts with pride & I figured if I was going to conform to the anti-conformity crowd I might as well take it a step further. So I asked for a Fidel Castro T-shirt.
Hardly any of my clothes have anything on them. I have a Hunter S. Thompson t-shirt, a Rage Against the Machine t-shirt, a Nirvana t-shirt, a tuxedo t-shirt & now a Fidel Castro t-shirt. The Nirvana shirt I was forced to stop wearing, at least around family. Both my mom & to my absolute horror, my sister ask me what “Nirvana” means every time they see me wear it. To my sister’s credit, “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” is all I have to say in order to jog her memory at which point I get to hear something negative about them. She hates Nirvana, I just don’t understand it. But my mother I handle differently: “Remember that Indian girl I dated? I wear it so she knows I respect her religion.”
I try not to get into pop culture around my mother, she has a desire to appear normal & hide her OCD, as a result she co-opts culture. Thanks to slip of the tongue of one of my friends she now calls her cell phone a “porty,” she calls the police “po-po,” & thanks to that asshole Jerry, she watches Black gospel shows on Sunday mornings.
Jerry knows exactly what he is doing & has slowly been talking my OCD mother into co-opting his culture in her effort to appear normal. It is bad enough when the wiggers do it, but it is absolutely horrifying watching a white woman of my mother’s age attempt to co-opt Black culture. Jerry thinks it’s hysterical. Jerry is an asshole that is no longer aloud around my mother.
At any rate, the Castro t-shirt proved to be a conversation point, especially sense I wore it with slacks & a jacket. It caught the eye of a Polish guy at the party that has the same sympathies that I have. It was a burst of fresh air meeting someone that understood the island as well as I do, it was nice meeting someone that could talk about Castro as both a hero & a villain. In America, at least, you get mean looks & snide remarks when you say that Cuba is still free. American’s don’t understand that the choices were a puppet government for America & a puppet government for the Soviet Union & Castro was able to traverse those waters & still keep Cuba out of both their hands. One island against two super powers neither of which had Cuba’s best interests at heart, what Castro did was amazing & kept Cuba free. You can’t argue against it & claim to understand that situation. This is why you want me to teach history to your children, I know how to walk the line between propaganda & facts. Castro has done some evil shit, no doubt, but he has also done some amazing shit & it behooves us to understand both sides of that & every other coin.
That conversation was able to snag me a reference & allow me to drop an application that wasn’t cold. I should be getting a phone call from his firm in the next two weeks. I’d be operating logistics & a decent & stable job with room for promotion. I could have a career & I have to thank my mother & Fidel Castro & a drunken Pole for it. That is something I never thought I’d be able to say.