July 2: Best Teacher, Didn't Even Give a Damn, a Good Guy

He was about the best teacher I ever had, Mr. Antolini.  He was a pretty young guy, not much older than my brother D.B., and you could kid around with him without losing your respect for him.  He was the one that finally picked up that boy that jumped out the window I told you about, James Castle.  Old Mr. Antolini felt his pulse and all, and then he took off his coat and put it over James Castle and carried him all the way over to the infirmary.  He didn’t even give a damn if his coat got all bloody.

For me, Mr. Antolini is a pretty conflicted character.  Before he appears in the book, the guy sounds almost like the Second Coming of Christ.  He’s kind and smart and compassionate.  He takes Holden in when he has no place else to go.  Plus, he’s an English teacher, which makes him one miracle away from canonization.  When the weird, possibly sexual, advance happens later in the novel, it changes my perception of him.  Now, he’s a good guy with a problem.  I’m not quite sure how to interpret that moment in the novel.  I almost want to pretend it doesn’t happen, because I like Antolini so much.

I try to be a good guy in my various life roles, as a husband, father, brother, coworker, and friend.  I try to respect everybody, give everybody the benefit of the doubt.  Even people I don’t like.  When I’m not nice, I apologize.  Sometimes it takes me a few days, but I don’t like existing in damaged relationships.  I think a good epitaph for my tombstone would be:  “Here lies Saint Marty, a decent guy.”

But I’m not perfect.  I know that.  I can be sarcastic to the point of cruelty.  I tease my kids.  Sometimes, when I get home at night, I’m in such a rotten mood I could kick a puppy.  And, if you haven’t noticed already, I can throw myself some pretty big parties of pity.  In short, I can be an asshole.  Like Mr. Antolini, I’m a conflicted character.

I yam what I yam, as Popeye says, however.  I always stay true to myself.  My good qualities:  I’m funny; I’m kind; I’m generous (I think); I’m a hard worker; I’m a good father (I think); I’m a good husband (I think); I’m a good friend (I think); I’m a good listener; and I’m compassionate.  Notice that I didn’t say I was humble, although I try to cultivate humility as a character trait.

My worry is that my character flaws outweigh my character strengths.  Maybe my tombstone is going to read “Here lies Saint Marty, kind of a jerk.”  I try not to worry too much about what other people think of me.  It’s not a healthy habit.  I try to worry about what I think of me, which is something I have a little more control over.  If I don’t like myself, chances are that nobody else likes me, either.  

Right now, I think I’m doing alright.  Nobody is particularly pissed off at me currently, and I haven’t annoyed myself all day.

Saint Marty can live with that.

A really good epitaph