Boo-dah

Kevin Flaherty seems to fit the profile. Kevin, because this young man sitting diagonal from me on the bus reminds me of this slightly self-conscious, pseudo-friendly, football player that I went to high school with, whose name happened to be Kevin. And Flaherty, because, well, the Kevin that I know had a very Irish last name. The subconscious can be a wondrous machine. Seeing this stranger floods me with memories of my youth, i.e.: two to three years ago. The particular recollection that is jogged in my mind, one that has grabbed my attention for the time being, involves Kevin and an old French teacher. Since this is a dull bus ride, I think I can set aside some time to paint you a picture of these particular characters.

Kevin came into this world expected to be an athlete. His older brother Adam was a well known cross-country and track and field star, and his eldest brother Dave was a small town hit on the football field. By the time young Kevin reached high school, he was about 5' 10" and weighed about 200 pounds. His face maintained echoes of middle school in the form of red blemishes spotting his visage. Kevin surrounded himself primarily with other like-minded jocks. Before I continue, let it be known that I have no unreasonable bias against athletes, as I was the captain of the girls' field hockey team myself. Without further personal-narrative interruptions, I will move forth in my description of the Kevin Flaherty that I know, and that you will soon be acquainted with as well.
In all fairness, I would say that Kevin was instinctively a "nice kid," but sometimes, "nice kids" develop a mean-streak meant to deflect any negative attention from themselves. And so the action in this story begins: It was senior year, no wait, scratch that, junior year, during a study hall period when Kevin suddenly enters the old science lab.

[Harsh fluorescent light illuminates two rows of large black lab tables. Bored students file about the room. Indistinct mutterings abound, regarding hunger and homework assignments.
Spotlight: Stage Right. Wood door opens. Kevin enters as a few students look over at the new arrival.]


Immediately, and quite proudly, Kevin approaches a group of students whom I happen to be sitting with, and begins boasting about his encounter with a French teacher in the hallway. According to his tale, Ms. Philipon, a well-aged Canadian linguist, stopped him in the hallway and requested to see a hall-pass. Kevin, meanwhile, is recounting this tale with more gusto than that of Beowulf after the defeat of Grendel. "So," Kevin concludes to a slightly glassy audience, "I just told the old bitch to fuck off." Not to make myself out as a saint, but the entire situation had made me nauseous. In my resolute high school logic, I saw earnest validity in the retribution of callous behavior, probably because I've always felt like a bit of an outcast. Ms. Philipon, was in fact an old bat, but I personally feel that stringency is the true nature of elderly French teachers, and she should not be publicly insulted by young delinquents. Harsh words, but I stand by them. I was always a relatively quiet kid, but something about that story stirred up some fire in my viscera and I meant to show him the error of his ways.

I let Kevin finish his story and then I chewed him out like I had done to no other. Truthfully, I may not have been very eloquent, and perhaps used terms that I had never heard before, except for maybe on late night talk shows and I am quite certain that many of my theories about Kevin’s sly avoidance of evolution had been fictional, to some degree.
But it felt good.
I had never particularly fancied Ms. Philipon, but I couldn't’t help but enjoy her class, or at the very least pretend to enjoy her class after the incident so that the people who witnessed my wrath didn't just think that I was extremely austere and self-righteous.

In ancient Greek mythology, the god, Zeus, was put in place to maintain order in the natural world, and it seems to me that myth is the foundation of religion, with tales of superhuman beings undertaking quests and such to conquer evil and define the very nature of human-kind. Does this imply that there is some correlation between myself and the greatest idol of the mythological age, or perhaps that I may be the chosen leader of a new earth shattering religion? I will leave that for my audience to decide.
The manner in which this segment is progressing leads me to believe that I should end with a lenitive conclusion regarding morality, or better yet, in great contrast to my previous notions, a sensible Chinese proverb: Have a mouth as sharp as a dagger, but a heart as soft as tofu.