January 15: Screwballs, Saint Arnold Janssen, Missionary

We got to the Edmont Hotel, and I checked in.  I'd put on my red hunting cap when I was in the cab, just for the hell of it, but I took it off before I checked in.  I didn't want to look like a screwball or something.  Which is really ironic.  I didn't know then that the goddam hotel was full of perverts and morons.  Screwballs all over the place.

The most ironic thing about this passage is that Holden is probably the most messed up person at the Edmont.  He's depressed, angry, manipulative, and lost.  Basically, he's a teenager.  At this point in the book, he's left Pencey, the school he's just been expelled from, and he's on his way to New York with a vague plan of taking a vacation before he returns home to face his parents.

I think adults react differently to Holden's story than young people do.  I remember really identifying with him as a kid, wanting to be his friend.  When I read the book now, as the father of a twelve-year-old girl and four-year-old boy, I want him to get his crap together.  If Holden were my son, I'd send him to military school or something.  Granted, he's troubled, but he needs to use some goddam common sense.

Of course, that's not a very generous attitude.  I should feel some compassion for him.  He's grieving the death of his little brother.  He has parents who don't know what to do with him, and most of the other adults in his life simply want to lecture him about responsibility.  I know that's what I'd do if he were my son.  I've already had a few of those "responsibility" talks with my daughter.  Holden is floundering, and I want to slap him upside the head.  I guess I'd make a terrible therapist.  Or saint.

Today is the feast day of Arnold Janssen, who was born in Goch, Germany, in 1837.  At around the age of 24, Arnold became a priest and taught science for twelve years.  That's right, a priest/saint who taught science.  Believe it or not, science and religion are not mutually exclusive.  In fact, for a lot of scientists and priests, the two go hand-in-hand.  But Father Arnold wasn't just a scientist.  He was also a magazine editor.  He edited a journal about the missionary work of the Church.  This guy was a true Renaissance man.  Eventually, he started the Society of the Divine Word, and its members became missionaries in Toga, New Guinea, North America, Japan, and Paraguay.

Arnold Janssen puts all of us to shame.  His simple life of science and faith changed the world, spreading charity and love across the globe.  Saints have this annoying habit of making me feel inadequate.  Saint Arnold Janssen in no exception.  I sit at my computer and complain about having to wake up before dawn.  I bitch about how tired I am.  I watch the clock and dream about having a few minutes to read a Stephen King novel.  I sound like the most shallow person alive.  I'm one of Holden's phony bastards.  When he was my age, Arnold Janssen was organizing societies to educate children in Third World countries.  Compared to him, I'm Homer Simpson.

I know I shouldn't compare myself to a saint.  It's a good way to batter my self esteem.  I simply need to be the best person I can be, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day.

Saint Marty is trying to be a good person today, even if he would rather be at home, in his pajamas, watching reruns of M*A*S*H.  And slapping the hell out of Holden.

This guy isn't good for my self esteem