to Mike
On the first day of class I pegged Mike as a trouble maker. He looked young. Way too young. I know, i know, it's not like I'm training marines or something. But still, it's a job that requires patience, sympathy, maturity, and intelligence. It's not like customer service anywhere else. That sounds cheap. But it's true. The stress during the 6 week training period is high. So is the attrition.
In some classes, when I'm feeling like more of a hard as on the first day, I warn them up front that 1 out of every three quiet before the end of class. "So look at the person on your right, look at the person on your left, one of them won't be here at the end of 6 weeks".
Of course I follow it up with the "there's no shame in that" speech. "It's not the job for everyone, and that's okay."
So I pegged Mike as the guy who would either realize how hard the job is and leave, or rack up too many Attendance issues and be ushered out.
Tall, taller than me, and I loose track at some point. Maybe six foot or so. Probably barely weighing 150 though. Tall and lanky, and looking young and goofy. Frankly goofy.
The first thing that threw me off balance was his smile. Fine, fine, it was a goofy smile too. But it was true. There was no fear, no smug pride, no flip apathy of youth. Just an honest, "hey, how ya doin'?" I was wrong about Mike from the very beginning. On the most mundane level, I was wrong about him as a trainee. He was apt, dedicated, mature, easy going, but hard working.
But I was wrong about him as a person too. We've got this pretty strict no cell phone rule. And I did have to talk to Mike once about having it all the way off, not just turning the ringer off and receiving text messages. He didn't argue, just turned it off. The next day one of the other trainers told me that one of my trainees had been in the hall talking on their cell phone. We hadn't had our morning break yet, so it was someone that told me they were going to use the bathroom. And there were only 4 guys in the class. I jumped on Mike right away. Not accusing him, but asking him. He said that it hadn't been him. Again, not defensive, just honest, and open. I should have known right away. And even though I didn't push it, I was sure it was him. I went so far as to have the other trainer point the person out. And it wasn't Mike. I should have trusted the little fucker. Should have known he didn't have that dishonesty in him. I apologized to him. Even though I hadn't really accused him, I'd felt it, and I'd thought it, and in my mind I was sure.
I saw Mike as a person in that class. He lost a friend during class. He took a little time off to speak at his friends funeral. I don't even think he took a full day. But when he told me that he'd be speaking at his friends funeral I saw the true unabashed pain in his eyes. The loss. There was a depth to this kid so great that I felt it spilling out from him.
I remember the Blue Earth river. It's one of those green little country rivers in southern Minnesota. With sandy shores mixing into mud more often than not. Cutting through fields and groves, and mostly hidden. We used to fish in it and canoe in it and swim in it. You could never see the bottom of it. Not even when it was only a foot or two deep. You'd be wading across it, maybe to get to a sandbar in the middle, maybe just to get to a swimming spot on the other side, your feet sinking to the ankles in the mud-sand. The cool green water rushing by your knees, the current pushing against your lower legs. And then suddenly, if you weren't careful, you'd step into a deep spot. Unseen, unpredictable, it was hidden beneath the green rushing water. Sometimes spilling in up to your waist, where the current would inevitably sweep you off your feet and down river a ways. Some of those little spots were much much deeper though. There were some whose bottom we never could reach.
You're probably with me up until now. Bored maybe.. but fuck it. It's my blog. But I'm hoping that I'm getting across the fact that Mike is a great guy. I'm not even sure how old he is, 19, 20 probably. But he was balanced, you know? Mature for his age, but with the youthful spark that makes the first to crack a joke, laugh out loud. So you've got that, right? But here's were I buck you.
I was wrong about the magic in Mike too. I don't have magic in me. I'm plain and boring and expanding at the waist. I'm mistaken for "that one guy" at least 10 times a day. But I know that some people do have that magic in them. There's this theory that a spinning object distorts the space around it. Well, that's not a theory really, that part is truth. A blender in water. The water whirls and spins around the blade, in distorted spirals. But now make the medium less substantial, and spin the object faster. A propeller in air. Pulling invisible currents into, spindling them around, and throwing them wide. vvvrrrooOOOOMMM. take off. It work with energy too. An object spinning fast enough distorts the energy around it, distorts even the light around it, if the object is substantial enough, and if it spins quickly enough. Now the theory goes on to say that something large enough, heavy enough, spinning quickly enough, will distort even time and space. now that's fine and dandy... and into the future we zoooOOOOMMM. But here's what I think. I think some people spin quickly enough, not literally of course, you fuckin' ninny, but in a different sense. Not that they think that much more quickly, or that they are super smart, or super charged, but they are more alive than the rest of us. They pull the "stuff" of life into them, spindle it around them and spin it back out in wide arcs.
I give my class stupid little toys. Army men, little action figures, christmas figures. Stupid little things that they set on the top of their computers when they have questions. For this class I had purchased a whole bunch of little super hero figures at a 5 cent apiece clearance. I put them all in a plastic tub and told them to pick one out. I'm going around the room, having people choose, most are painfully slow. Like they are choosing their first child or something. but I respect that. I made sure I grabbed Hellboy before anyone else could after all. I get to Mike, and without hesitation, barely glancing into the plastic tub, he rummages around a bit and pulls out Plastic Man. Mike smiles an easy smile and says "I knew I'd pick him". I smile and chuckle a bit too. I was still misjudging him at this point. I figured he had sneaked a peak when the person sitting next to him was choosing. And the physical resemblance was obvious. Mike resembled Plastic Man in about every way imaginable. Tall lanky, I expected him to reach out, stretching his arm the length of the classroom at any second.
Later in class Mike sat by a lady who did tattoos in her spare time. The sat near the front of the classroom, and I could hear them talking. Mike found out that his roommate has a tattoo. He didn't know it when they moved in. So what you say? A tattoo of what you ask? Plastic Man. And why? His roommate didn't really know. Just did it for kicks.
Even later in class Mike told me a story. He was at the Rave. he was talking to a guy at the bar. The guy at the bar was a little drunk... maybe very drunk. "I whuzz n actor" the guy slurs. And Mike listens. Smiling I imagine. So the guy talks more. "I whuzz plaztic man in the 80s" Now Mikes's face nearly splits in what should be a patten Mike Smile.
"No way man, I'm Plastic Man. I've always been Plastic Man"
I wish I knew Mike better, I wish there was more I could do right now even. Hi world has got to be turned upside down. He's not going to be able to keep his job, he's going to miss too much work now. He just bought a condo. He's got so much ahead of him yet. Someone said that it runs in his family... the cancer. Like that's some excuse, like that makes it okay. It's just fucked up. Here's to you Mike. For all I've ever believed is good and true you've got to be okay.