Read about the misadventures of a sped high school teacher in Savannah, GA as he sails through the exciting seas of committment, marriage with step-kids, some tour guiding while he attempts to break into the world of professional storytelling and the occasional act of piracy.
Today’s installment of the Tide is to help out a buddy of
mine waaaaay back from my old Young Harris Days. John Trotter and I met through
the outdoor club the Big Guy ran called Quantrek. We were never all that close
but I was always impressed with his creativity and his good nature.
A few months ago I read on Facebook how Trotter had
entered a contest that could possibly feature his artwork on a cup to be sold
at all University of Georgia sporting events. What made it even cooler to me
was the twist. The artwork must somehow represent the style of Jack Davis.
Always a favorfite
Jack Davis was always a favorite artist of mine and
introduced to me through the pages of MAD Magazine. While writing this quickly, I discovered how Davis went to UGA on the GI BIll so it owuld make sense he'd do some artwork for his old alma mater. During the 80s, back when
the dawgs were sugar-coated, Davis did a series of classic posters. I can remember
cutting it out one out of the Sunday edition of the Atlanta Journal-COnstitution. It featured UGA in football fear and I proudly taped it to my wall.
I am biased and make no bones about it but if you take a
look at the other contestants, they don’t hold a candle to Trotter’s work. The
winner is based on popular vote so help a brother out and click. It only takes
a moment. I promise.
Sorry been out a bit. From here on out, I’ll always refer
to Feb 2013 as the “sick month” where my flu became pneumonia. If you have
never had pneumonia, you are missing out. It’s a treat.
The next few blogs, I am going to attempt to connect one
theme to the next. His one has been brewing since my last one but this
afternoon, I realized it was time. Roni has gotten me hooked on Pandora. She had
Chess Club this afternoon and we were driving home when I heard this song which
took me back to my Camp Glisson days.
Camp Glisson was several camps within one. We had the
typical camp which was called the Village, there was a Pioneer with a rustic
setting way out in the woods and limited plumbing, and of course, Sparrowwood.
Sparrowwood has probably had the largest influence on how
my life has gone. It was a keep set up for special needs kids. Back in the 80s,
I can remember seeing their campers in the dining hall as they would eat
downstairs and also occasionally passing them as they left the pool. We did
have Chapel with them and from this, I realized as a teen to overcome my fears
regarding handicapped people.
Around 1987 or so, I was working as a counselor at the
Pioneer and Village Camps. This would be a life changing summer because I would
cross paths with new staff member, Ron Balthazar. And I hated him.
Ron was a few years older than us 19 year old counselors.
He was part of the Emory University crowd which worked at camp (Camp had
several college factions: Young Harris, Reinhardt, UGA, etc). He was one of the
new Sparrowwood counselors but because he was older, the upper staff tended to
include him which drove us younger folks nuts. Eventually, Ron was running
S-wood as the director. What I mistook for arrogance in my younger years was
actually maturity, Ron over the next few years would also work his way to upper
staff something which ignited much jealously among us but especially me.
Ron was very musically inclined so it was a natural
choice that the camp manager, Jimmy Moor, would have Ron deal with the sound
system and especially the end of the week slide shows. These were tasks I
coveted and took personally when I was shut out.
Ron had a vibrant personality and was a natural in front
of a crowd. He was infamous with helping with staff meetings, skits, and
announcements. Anytime you got a room full of college aged counselors together
in one room and away from the campers, we’d go to town talking. I can still
hear Ron’s voice over the mike in a smug yet silly, “Young people. Young
people. Settle down.”
I used to hate that and can remember taking offense. One of
my close friends, Valary, and I used make fun of Ron when he’d say that.
Eventually, my brazenness got the better of me and I started responding, “Old
man with a microphone.”
Val is the cute blonde top row middle, Sadly I am the one w/ a mullet
I did not like Ron and I have no doubts that Ron was not
thrilled with my existence either. It stayed like that for a few years as we
both ran in different social cliques. Fortunately, it changed during the summer
of 1992.
I began spending a lot of time at Sparrowwood. Ron was a
huge proponent of mixing their campers with the Village and Pioneer camps so
many activities like camp outs, swim parties, and my favorite, the Thursday Night
Sp-wood Dance Party. These were some awesome times and made me realize that I
worked well with the handicapped and would lead to my future career.
By the end of the summer, Ron and gained a bit of respect
for each other. 1992 was my last summer of a seven year run. The very last
Dance Party was very special. SO special that our Camp Manager the late, great
Bob Cagle had lent me a tux jacket which country singer, Hoyt Axton once wore.
At the end, it hit me hard.
1992 Elementary Living Group w/ Marie
Camp was a big deal for me. As a camper, I loved Glisson because
it was the one week during the year where I could and fit in. As a counselor, I
learned a lot about how to work with people, be creative, deal with stress, and
got the chance to put back a little of what I had gotten from Camp. One of my
favorite memories comes from this night when Ron came up and shook my hand. Ron thanked me for all the help I had done
with them over the summer and the enthusiasm I brought.
I was floored. Here was a guy I had spent the
past 5 years loathing. Now we both were on equal ground and found respect. Ron was
a good guy and I missed many years of a potentially amazing friendship. My
immaturity and insecurities prevented from seeing this guy as the amazing
individual he is.
In
my last post, I talked about the autistic kid which led me to think a lot about
those Glisson days. Even though I didn’t write much in February, I spent much
time comparing/contrasting my past and present. When the realization hit me
that I have become much alike the very person I once despised, I had to laugh.
Because of my work with Ron and Sp-wood, I now have a Masters in Special Education
and work with high school kids on a variety levels. I have become quite musical
myself even though I try to let others drown out the guitar play. On occasion,
I even have caught myself shushing students with a very familiar,”Young people.
Young People.”
I
hope this blog somehow gets forwarded to Ron Balthazar. I hope he understands
that a much more mature Robby Richardson wishes he could go back in time to
shut up his younger self. Most of all, I hope Ron knows that I thank him for
being in my life at just the right time to have enough influence to get me
where I am today. Thanks, dude. Knowing you has made a real difference in my
life.
During that first Christmas year before last, Jude and I
had a Guys day and we shopped for Roni and Kim. Eventually, we ended up at
Wal-Mart and looking at the Angry Birds T-shirts. Jude pointed out they had
those new hoodies that looked like superheroes. Before I knew it, I was the
proud owner of a gray and black Batman hoodie. It has never really grown on me
but its super soft and warm enough to help me navigate my days through the
halls of my chilly high school.
I have been on a kick wearing the Batman hoodie with one
of my short sleeve Hawaiian shirts lately. The fleecy feel of the jacket has
been quite comfortable as I have been tolerating this bizarre Savannah weather
and getting over being sick. Frankly, I never really thought anyone noticed. Today
I learned just how wrong I was.
I have this more profoundly disabled kid in a few of my
classes this semester and can see some potential issues so I decided to drop
the MID room to let his case manager, Jason, know and possibly plan ahead.
There were a few other fellow students in the MID room as I chatted with the
teacher. I had barely begun to say anything when I felt the wind almost get
knocked out of me and I was in the grips a giant bear hug.
“I love you, Batman!” was ringing in my ears.
I have just met our newest autistic student, Michael. He
likes Batman. A lot.
“Michael, let go of Mr. Richardson and go back to your
seat,” says Jason. The steel grip does not loosen. I look down and can’t help
but start chuckling. Memories of my days of working with Sparrow wood special
needs campers begin to flood my memories. I wrap my loose arm around Michael
and shoulder hug back. Teacher Robby kicks in.
“Michael, bud, you gotta let go. Can’t breathe.” I get
out. He releases me and still grinning huge. I smile back and respond,” Let’s
do this right and like men do, sir.”I offer my hand and introduce myself.
“Hi,
I am Mr. Richardson and I teach here. You are?”
“I
am Michael and I love superheroes especially Batman!” states Michael with
continued enthusiasm.
Still
smiling, I say, “Dude, I hear you but first things first. Guys just don’t run
up and hug other guys without warning. Guys do hug but they either know each
other first or they ask. We cool?” Somewhere in the back of my mind I can hear
Ron Balthazar from Sparrow wood teaching the “ask before hugging” rule back at
Camp. I laugh to myself.
Michal
looks at me trying to figure out if he is in trouble so I am careful to keep
smiling. A few long seconds and I and I try to steer the conversation back to
my objective.
“Dude can you give me a minute with
the teachers?” and Michael promptly pretends to pass out to my surprise. Jason
begins to applaud and mention how the Oscar is going to Michael. I go on about
my business and eventually Michael gets up and surprise, joins me.
After
I wrap up my teacher business, Michael is not done with me. He has many items
to share and we begin a long, awesome conversation regarding more superheroes,
web shooters, and a mutual love affair with Wookies. We are both laughing and
smiling. I like this kid. A lot.
Bitching
about teaching has become a favorite past time these days especially my lack of
feeling appreciated. This afternoon reminded me that I don’t have to always
feel that way. Sometimes out of the blue, someone or something new can pop into
the scene and remind me of my purpose and just what I have to offer. As a
teacher, I wear a lot of hats. I am a counselor, scheduler, mediator, listener,
cheer leader, traffic conductor, instructor, supervisor, and occasionally and
educator. Today, I inadvertently got to fulfill a life-long dream of being a super
hero so I guess I get to add that to the list now too.
“Are you ready, Rob?”
asked my good friend and co-worker, David Westbrook. “I have the strong feeling
that ten minutes from now, we are either going to think this was our best idea
or possibly the worst.”
The growing crowd has become to cheer and chant as I look
around the beachfront on Tybee. It is New Year’s Day which means it’s time for
the annual Tybee Polar Plunge.There are
a few hundred of us who have decided to take the plunge. The pier is stemming
with onlooker and news crews. I know I should be nervous about the 48 degree
water awaiting me but my adrenalin has kicked in. To quote my favorite R.E.M.
song, “I am feeling kinda psyched.”
and the crowd looked on...
Dave and I got the bright idea to do this bout 10 pm last
night. I had always heard about the Tybee Polar Plunge but never really
considered doing it. One wild hair later and the two of us were paying our
registration fee at the Tybee Pier and receiving our complimentary t-shirt. I
almost backed out this morning but now I’m really glad I didn’t.
Standing in the staging area, Dave summed the whole
morning up.
“This
is why I love living here in Savannah so much.” He said. Dave had it right. As
usual this type of event brought out all types of folks. Crazed partiers, People
with a cause, families, and folks that just love to have a good time like us. I saw everyone from a male Wonder Woman to a
flock of “Ty-bees”. (Get it? They were adorable) It was my first time but
fortunately I had the foresight to grab my Royal Order of the Pooh-Bah hat for
my first plunge. Good thing I did because it’s made it much easier to find Dave
and I in the all the pics and video. Large furry blue hats tend to stick out, I
hear.
Before
The
crowd is what caught my attention. I am little ashamed of myself in being surprised.
Coastal Empire People love to make the scene. Local people are the best and so much fun to
talk to. It constantly amazes me how Savannah/Tybee folks can act like there
are big city yet be just as down home as the people I grew up with in the
mountains. Fun crowd.
I
also don’t know why I was so surprised when I discovered two of my students
found me. It always amuses me to watch a student’s eyes when they find me in
the civilian world especially with Pooh-bah hat in tow.Come Thursday, I know I’ll be catching some
shit in my 2nd period Brit Lit class but I am fine with that. It’s
good for kids to see us teacher as human.
Dave’s
plan was to run into the surf and dive. I must admit it was a good plan and one
I’d choose but unfortunately I don’t run very well due to my ankles from the
kidney disease. The smart choice was walking into the ocean for me. I am glad I
choose this one because a) it was safer and b) it made me reflect a few moments
as those last two minutes began to count down before the Plunge.
On the Robby R timeline, 2012 will be a
standout.The big event was my
outstanding nuptials to the lovely Kim Wade while Jude and Roni presided as
Maid of Honor and Best Man. I met Stephen King, Neil Gaiman, and Stan Lee. I
drank wine in Paris, Morocco, and a beer in Germany (OK, it was Epcot but it
still counts for something). I honeymooned in the fanciest hotel I had ever
visited.
"Ahhhh, Venice. I mean Epcot."
I
became a parent. For real. And ever since then, I hear the ghosts of my Dad and
Pop as I navigate these new uncharted waters.
Two
decisions came to mind and became resolutions. The first is my health. I have
been steadily improving over the past few years. It’s now time to get serious
about a kidney transplant. Therefore, I have nicknamed 2013 as the Year of the
Kidney. If I get serious about all the prep work and start laying it all out, I
could probably have a new kidney in a couple of years. It scares me and thrills
me all at the same time. I had been debating this for a while but as I looked
out along the coast line. I knew it was time.
Second,
I am going to keep writing this blog. There has been a bit of hiatus. My laptop
was broken and it took a bit to get it fixed. During that time some stuff came
up where my blog was used a tool
to drive a wedge between the kids and myself. It didn’t work but it made me
leery to post anything of a personal nature here for fear of it being used against
me. It also reminded me that so long as I am honest in what I say and write
then slings and arrows just bounce right off.
I
am going to keep writing but I may avoid some topics for a bit at least until
Kim and I get this all sorted out legally. So if you keep reading my posts and
see a lack family stuff, I am avoiding adding fuel to the fire for a bit but I
assure you, we are doing great. Roni is glued to her new Nook and Jude is
picking some chords I have taught him on the guitar.
I
am also going to focus more on the getting the Tide off the ground. Seeing all
the characters at the Polar Plunge had me realizing how much I honestly want to
start writing about the goings on and uniqueness of living here in Savannah. C’mon,
how many places would actually have a guy in an old timey bathing suit show up
like this?
The
crowd began chanting and roaring which snapped me out of my dazed moment of reflection.
The PA system belted out a count down from ten. Dave and I looked at each other
and began grinning. The moment of truth was here.
As
the speakers belted out,”One! Go for it, swimmers!” About a few hundred crazed
swimmers stormed out to the surf. I would later describe the scene like the
massive battle scenes from Braveheart.
The swimmers charged with full force and then came to a standstill about waist
high as the surf would break on them. This
separated the men from the boys. Most people stopped and began splashing but
some kept going until they were fully submerged. I watched Dave make it with
the bravest crowd, go under, and come up laughing.
It
was cold. No denying this. I am also proud to say I made it out to where all
the hardcore swimmers and Dave were at. Of course during this process, the term
shrinkage does not cover what happened to my body. I feel backwards and went
under. I came up and realized I was ready for the New Year.
After...
The
Polar Plunge may not be for everyone but I do recommend going out just for the
pageantry and the fun. It was a great
time and an even better way to get me ready for 2013. Dave and I kept laughing the
whole way back and are already making plans for next year.
Editor's note: This was supposed to go to press last Wed which is why I am referring to Sunday as a school day. Sometimes it's hard ot find the right ending. I went through about six before picking this one.
It was the spring of 1985. VH1 had just been launched.
Hagar took over for David Lee Roth. Live Aid was just around the corner and I
anxiously awaited the new live album from Styx, Caught in the Act. As I’d sit in Mrs. Clark’s World Lit class, I’d daydream
while drawing my version of album covers all over my spiral tablets. I was
particularily good at the Men at Work Cargo
art work.
"It's a mistake...."
Mrs. Clark was my favorite teacher at Union County High.
It was not so much because I learned so much from her but I appreciated the way
she treated me. She was funny and sarcastic but also kind and never hurtful to
the students. This was the opposite of how her husband, Mr. Clark, ran the
show. He loved to tease but it often went over the point of humiliation.Mrs. Clark was one of those teachers who if
she saw some flame inside of a student. Mrs. Clark would fan that flame into a
force to be reckoned with.
Mrs. Clark loved to assign book reports but would never
let you select the book. She would pick it out to make sure it was something
new. I remember trying to use one of my Conan
books I was going though at the time and Mrs. Clark laughed. “Why would I grade
you on something you already know all about? Reading is like a diet. You have
to mix it up to get good results.”
So it was after I read Robert Ludlum’s The Parsifal Mosaic when I became hooked
on spy novels. I also realized Mrs. Clark’s statement might have been the
smartest thing any educator ever told me during high school. I still live by
this notion today and even teach my students this simple idea. I just wrapped up the Game of Thrones series so now I working
my way through the Great Depression Circus story, Water for Elephants. I have some non-fiction by Bill Bryson
next.
My reoccurring theme in this blog is how history repeats
itself. Often my recollections revolve around the antics of Roni and Jude.
Today is something a little different but after it happened, I understood this
must be written down for me.
About the time I was in Mrs. Clark’s World Lit, she
introduced us to Shakespeare through his play, As You like It. It was not the painful experience I had anticipated
this process to be. I even enjoyed a bit.
I handled the play just fine. The issue came when Mrs.
Clark had us memorize and recite passages from Shakespeare’s works. She
assigned me to perform the “All the world’s a stage speech.I never bothered to memorize past the first
few lines and got a whopping score of 3.
At the time, I recognized the relevance for me to learn this stuff yet I just put it off. This alwasy bothered me a bit because I felt like I had let
Mrs. Clark down by my lack of effort for memorizing the speech.
One time I was up during for a visit to Mom up at Young
Harris. Mary had gone off to college so Mom was by herself. While I was up
there, I decided to go by my old high school but never made it after talking
with the neighbors. Apparently, Mrs. Clark had died of a heart attack shortly
before my Dad had his. I had lost my chance to apologize.
Mr. Sidney & Mr. Richardson show off the winner in Jenkins Homecoming Door Contest
Paul Sidney is my work colleague, fellow blogger, and
friend. We have been working together and teaching Brit Lit for several years.
We have gotten pretty good at it and have introduced Macbeth, the cast of Twelfth
Night and Julius Caesar to a new generation of kids. Every
year, I crack up at how our students groan and hate reading the passages aloud.
By the end, most of the kids are into the way of the Bard.
Paul and I have just finished our segment on Macbeth and
we are moving on to how Shakespeare lived. For our journal today, Paul had come
up with using the “World’s a Stage” speech and relating it to our society
today. The kids weren’t getting it.
Something inside of me clicked and I read the passage
aloud with drama and emphasis. Afterwards, Paul and I broke it down to relate
this to our students’ worlds. As we’d go through each stage, I was transported
back to being 15 year old Robby and began remembering all that info Mrs. Clark taught
me during my junior year. It worked for me then and somehow that magic Mrs. Clark had with
Shakespeare worked on our students.
Sorry for the language but it really does say it all.
Afterschool, I made my daily trek back to my car up in
the front parking lot. Usually, I am tired and ready to get the hell out of
Dodge. Today was different. I felt good about the work Paul and I did. I was
satisfied.
I’ve lost my chance to have those moments with Martha
Clark of Union County High School and to thank her. I wish I could let her know
that because she took the time to open up my world, she not only changed my
life but gave me the desire to change others through teaching. I’ll never get
the chance to apologize for being so irresponsible for my assignment but I feel
like I made up for it today.
Instead
of just throwing out a bunch of words and phrase in my short term memory, I
used a long forgotten lesson taught by Mrs. Clark. In a way, I didn’t teach my
class today, Mrs. Clark did. I hope Mrs. Clark was able to see what I did with
my students today and realize that she is still teaching what she loved 27
years later. I often write about how history repeats itself and today I found
myself in the role of the mentor whom I have enormous respect for.
As a teacher, I hope that I impart a love of learning to my students. I think most of us are into education for partly that reason. I believe the other reason is more personal. Somewhere in that nightmare we called high school, an adult took the time to make a difference in our lives. As way of saying thank you, I think most teachers want to pass that influence on to their own students and hope they make that same difference.
I find it ironic how Mr. and Mrs. Clark influenced me as a teacher. Mr. Clark taught me what not to do. My nature is to tease but he taught me the line which Mr. Clark crossed way too many time during his miserable math classes. Teasing is fine. Ridiculing a student is not. Mrs. Clark is on the postive side of the teacher influence spectrum. I am glad to hear her voice in the back of my head when I get a kid to pick up a graphic novel or anthing else besides The Hunger Games.
Thanks Mrs. Clark, for introducing me to
Shakespeare. Thanks for getting me to
read outside of my comfort zone and introducing me to as much larger world. It’s
an odd feeling to be a teacher now and to realize how some of the smallest
lessons you taught me has become a larger part of how I do things. But I guess that is what a great teacher does.
My mother has always
been on the go. She spends little time at home unless it’s she has to work the
next day at Hospice. If she’s not at work, Mom is off seeing shows at the
Lucas, trying new places to eat here and around Savannah, and going on long and
interesting trips with He-who-shall-not-be-named.
The Big Guy had a different approach. He worked hard so
when he had time off, it was spent working around the house. If he wasn’t
dragging me off into the woods to cut a load of firewood, Dad was tinkering/building
stuff. As a result, thee house in Young Harris had a river rock raised deck,
Mary had a gazebo, and we even had a waterfall. Granted this waterfall only
worked after five o’ clock when the citizens of Young Harris started up their
dishwashers and showers for the evening. The Big Guy figured out into how to
tap the overflow area of the city water supply which ran right beside out house.
I’ve priced these fountains at Home Depot which has forced to admit the genius
in this plan.
As I have gotten older, it has come to my attention how I
am an amalgam of these two people. I love the idea of going out but when it
comes down to execution, I just want to stick around the house in my DC comics
pajama bottoms and my oversized long john short I got at Goodwill. I am a
closet homebody and openly admit it.
When I moved back to Savannah five years ago, I used to
shrug off going out because I had “school tomorrow” or something “was due for
my Master’s.” It became my go to phrase and I actually began to believe it.
This all accelerated as I got sicker from not taking care of my kidney disease.
Realizing that I had been like this for a very long time
was just one of the many things I saw wrong with me as I began to pick of the
pieces. I looked back at my first marriage with Satan’s Step daughter and
recognized I never went out with her very much. Granted the destinations were
always her choice but I began to see a pattern. I was becoming a recluse. All I
needed was the millions of dollars, long beard and assorted jars of urine.
That was the old Robby. The new Robby is always on the
go. To quote an old Calvin & Hobbes book, the days are just packed. Mondays
is Jude’s Karate as is Tuesdays and Fridays. Tuesdays and Thursdays alternate
between Roni’s Horseback riding and Girl Scouts.
The weekends are the best. We are all over the place.
This time of year is my favorite in Savannah because of a festival every
weekend. So far this year, we’ve gone to Picnic in the Park, the Greek
Festival, and of course, Pirate Fest. Or social calendar is booked through
Christmas at this point and I love it.
Fourth of July Road Trip to SC
There is also a ritual that seems to happen every time the
Richardson-Yanceys take to the streets. No matter how early of a start, we are
always 30 mins late at least. At some point during loading up, one of the kids
proceeds to hit a meltdown which launches either Kim or me into Def-con 5.
There is usually an argument during the car ride about car temperature/music
choice. (I refuse to listen to Pop music which appears to be the official
soundtrack to eleven year old girls everywhere.) We arrive and have a blast
which wipes away all the frustrations so Kim and I find ourselves doing the
same thing the next week.
There is also another part which has organically evolved
and it’s become the best part. We’ll be sitting at whatever function we’re
attending and the kids will be off in their own little world. Kim comes up to
me, sometimes she squeezes my hand which is always the sign that she is very
happy with me, “Thanks for bringing us, Honey. I have always wanted to do this.
“
My reply is always the same. “I know. This is awesome. I
can’t believe I’ve never done this before bit I’ve always meant to but never
seemed to get around to it.”
Not my best day but it was worth it so she could ride the Mountain.
I never got around to it because, in my heart, I never
really wanted to go anywhere. It’s not like that with Kim. I love spending time
alone with her but I also enjoy going out and doing stuff. Looking back at the
past, I realize it really does come down to who your travel companion is. Kim
is so much fun to go out and do stuff with that I find myself seeking new
opportunities.
Honeymoon in Ol' Mexico
Recently Kim referred to herself as my good luck charm
and it’s true. Over the past year, thanks to my lovely wife, I have had the
opportunity to not just see two of my favorite authors but actually get to
speak with them as well.
Last February, Kim worked her ass off to track down the
hardest ticket to find during the Savannah Book Festival. Somehow she scored
two tickets and we got to see Stephen King during the Festival’s Closing. It
was amazing to listen to stories form a mind that has sparked my imagination
not to mention cause a lack of sleep. The best moment came when I got to ask
him a question during King’s Q&A session. It was a fanboy question but how
many opportunities will I have to ask it again? Who made this happen? Kim did.
King is in the background signing. So cool!
A few weeks ago, we had the opportunity to see Neil
Gaiman perform some storytelling as part of the Unchained tour. I wrote a
previous blog about that amazing night and Mr. Gaiman even retweeted on his
twitter account. I even had the opportunity to get my little sister the
ultimate birthday present as seen right here. All of this happened courtesy of
the former Ms. Wade.
Birthday wishes from Mr. Gaiman
Now I have can add one more to the bucket list. This
morning I not only went to the SCAD Film Festival to view Spider-Man in 3D but
Stan Lee did a Q&A session. Once again all credit goes to Kim for making
this happen.
I know I am a real parent now because of something I did
during the Q&A. All week, I have been going through a list of questions to
ask Stan Lee. “Who’s your favorite character?””Did you not get something
published you were very proud of?” “What was the wackiest product pitched to
you regarding your creations?” I had a list of go to questions and then it
happened as we all raised our hands to get noticed.
Jude wanted to ask a Stan “The Man” Lee a question, How
could I say no to that? Believe or not, Jude is very shy and quiet in front of
large crowds and people he doesn’t know. So I rose my and when the microphone
guy came over I sent him to Jude. To steal a line from my students, Jude acted
like a BOSS! He was great. For one moment, the boy stole the show from Stan Lee
which is saying something.
I have never been prouder. I know we’ll have more moments
where I get to swell with pride but today was extra special for me. For a
second, Jude was very quiet and I was afraid he was going to back out. He didn’t
which is one of the many reasons I was thrilled. Jude overcame a little stage
fright to speak with one of his heroes. It was a cool moment because I wanted
him to have that opportunity even at my own expense.
I look forward in seeing that Roni and Jude will have to
say about all the places and people we have seen. I am eager to learn the perspective
they are coming from. We’ve only been at this for almost two years now. It’s
going to be cool to see where this takes us next. But if I know my wife and I
am learning, it’s not only going to be memorable but a lot of fun in the
process. I’ve come to the realization in life that it’s not so much about going
out and doing stuff but the company you keep. And I am keeping some great
company these days.
