What’s Worse, Smoking His Cigars, or Leaving His Radio on Kiss 98.5?
Quinn sold this car one of my wrestling teammates for $1.
Sometimes, when I drive to or from work, it is quiet. No phone calls, no podcasts, no music. I used to like the show, The Mentalist, with Simon Baker, who played the intellectual, Patrick Jane. One of his character traits was finding a place to be silent so that he could think – you know, put the human CPU processor to work. Now, I am no Patrick Jane – but I can tell you 100% for sure that I love to think, I love to write, and have conversations with other thinkers who transcend the world of complaint – those who brainstorm solutions.
Season 1 was really good
Over the last year, I’ve learned to value the times in which I can think or write. And today, while driving and thinking, I had a memory that made me burst into laughter…this one is good. Come back with me to the Spring of 1991, when I was in my senior year of high school. I got called down to the office to see our Principal, Mr. McDonald, with Kevin Carrol. I was the Vice President of the Student Council at our school, and Kevin was the President. Mr. McDonald asked us if we’d be interested in representing our school at a leadership summit that was taking place at Canisius College in Buffalo. This meant a day of school for us, doing cool stuff with students from around Western NY, and we couldn’t say yes fast enough.
We had an obstacle, though. We’d have to get ourselves there, and neither of us had wheels yet. When our Student Council Advisor, Paul Quinn, got wind of it – he told us we could take his car. It was a Lincoln Continental. So, a few days later, Kev and I loaded up in the AM and took Quinn’s car to Canisius. It was like driving on a cloud – a smelly one. Quinn was a cigar smoker, and it was apparent from the odor and the ashtray that it was a before-school thing, too. We rolled the windows down.
I am not sure what the purpose of the plastic mouthpiece was
When we arrived, we learned abruptly upon walking into the main hall that the leadership conference had a little more specificity to it. It was then called the African American Student Leadership Summit. If we’ve never met, this is a good time for me to tell you that I am white, and so is Kev. We walked in, and within a second, all eyes were on us. The guy in the front of the room asked us who we were, and we explained which school we were from and how we got there. He briefly explained the obvious, yet asked us if we wanted to stay. And…we did. It turned out to be an amazing day – not only because of the lineup of workshops but also because we found ourselves in one delicate conversation after another about race, the black-and-white thing at our own school, and so much more.
The keynote speaker’s name was Dr. Jawanza Kunjufu. I still remember his delivery to this day. He asked the crowd what they wanted and started putting things on a giant board, such as money, gold, a BMW, fancy clothes, and all material stuff. One of the participants concluded that if you had enough money, you could have all of those things. Then Dr. Kunjufu came back with the premise that if we had enough time, we could have the money, and the stuff, and friends, and family, and hobbies, and skills that got us more money and stuff, and we could even do more with our friends and family - without having to worry about going to jail. So, so true.
And that brought me to today’s thoughts. When it is silent, I really have no complaints – nor am I listening to the life-sucking complaints of others. When we think about the places and the people we love, sometimes I am unsure if our minds can tell the difference between what is real and what is a thought. Then, when writing – just like this, things are lined up and organized in the brain. This is so freeing – I just love to write. All I need is time, and I can do, think, feel, and love so, so much.
Back to me and Kev. We departed the conference – and I remember feeling like we accomplished something. When we got to the car, we were like – Quinn isn’t going to believe this. Plus, Quinn wasn’t a big fan of our principal, and we were sure he’d use the fact that he sent two white kids to a conference for black kids in the city to point out what he thought of him. Somebody wasn’t paying attention to the invite, that’s for sure. McDonald would not do that to us on purpose – he was a good man. Took time to help us develop our thoughts and leadership, always. Then again, maybe he did it on purpose – who knows? My father and Kev’s father were both teachers in our city, so we had a little more of an inside scoop on things.
So, we are cruising down the I-190 in Quinn’s Lincoln, heading back to school. Kev reaches up to the visor and pulls out Quinn’s pack of Swisher Sweets. He puts one in his mouth and hands me one. I push the car lighter in with Tic Tac Toe playing on Kiss 98.5. We light them up and start puffing, laughing our asses off the whole way back. We park the car in the teacher’s lot and sneak in the school's side door so Mr. McDonald wouldn’t know that we were rolling around in Quinn’s car smoking stogies. We get up to his classroom in time for the end of the day and hand him his keys. All was goodie in the hoodie.
Can’t Touch This: The #1 Hit Music Station
Well, until the next morning, that is. We saw Quinn in the office where we’d convene in the AM. Kev and I did the morning announcements for the school. When Quinn was pissed, it was easy to tell. His hair was always messy, and his face turned bright red. We were like, “Uh oh.” The good part was that he couldn’t tell Mr. McDonald we were driving his car and smoking his cigars. So, we knew we were good there. When we got upstairs, he ripped us to shreds - screaming in our faces. He said we owed him cigars, which we did pay back. We also had to buy him McDonald’s when we walked there for an Economics walking field trip. We did that, too. This was because he was also pissed that his car radio was left on Kiss 98.5. He said that was just as disrespectful as smoking his Swishers.