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Personal Perspectives

We Are All Rock Stars

No Brown M & Ms Allowed Backstage

No matter who you are in the world, everybody has got a little rock star in them.

Think about it for a minute. Have you ever acted in such a way or said something to someone or even done something, either good or bad, that is above and beyond the realm of your everyday, normal behavior? Maybe you've comported yourself for an indeterminate amount of time in an atypically larger-than-life fashion. Or perhaps you've had occasion to, as they say, step up to the plate and pull off something so unexpected that no one sees it coming.

If you can visualize yourself in any of the aforementioned scenarios, then you, my friend, are a rock star. You are a rock star for as long or short as the momentum of your particular moment lasts. Some people choose to ride the wave of relative fame or infamy all the way to the proverbial shore while other folks elect to bail on the entire experience not soon after they catch their first breaker. Whatever the case may be, for that glorious moment in time, you are a rock star and everyone, be it friend, foe, family, or stranger, knows it.

The following examples of rock stardom occurred within a five hour window of time this past Friday. Either the planets were aligned in some crazy syzygy (it's a real word, look it up) or there must have been something in the air over the Menlo Park / Redwood City area that night. Whatever the cause, the effect was quite clear: three special people transcended their usually hum-drum lives to become the stuff of legend. At least in my mind.

Here are their stories:

The Charismatically Intimidating Diva

While waiting in line at Whole Foods, thirteen month old Emma had taken notice of a seemingly similarly aged boy sitting in his mother's arms. After several coy, flirtatious glances failed to elicit even the slightest of reactions in the boy, a bound and determined Emma pulled out all the stops. She launched headfirst into her A+ material, secure in the knowledge that she had some real crowd-pleasing bits in her repertoire with which to impress him. "Hi, hi, HI!" Wave, wave, wave. Fake cough, fake cough, fake sneeze, fake yawn. Real yawn. "Uh oh." Purr, purr, quack, quack. "Ah waaaah!" She paused to gauge his reaction. The young gentleman initially responded with a befuddled stare, which in turn gave rise to a look of sheer and genuine terror, and inevitably concluded with him bawling his eyes out as he clutched his mother tightly. Not overly impressed with his propensity for the dramatic, Emma instead focused her attention on the elderly woman with the blue hair one aisle over, leaving the weeping boy's mom to ascertain exactly what just transpired.

* * * * *

The Eleventh Hour Savior of La Entrada

In much the same way our students receive their class schedules in the mail by late August, so, too , do the teachers at our school receive their tentative teaching assignments, albeit in their boxes in the staff lounge and on May 15th. Usually, this pre-summer ritual is the very definition of anti-climactic with nearly every faculty member being assigned the exact same position as the previous year. Any deviation from the status quo is typically driven by teacher request or by student population shift. But this May 15th was different. This year, the ess aitch eye tea really hit the fan. In a major, major way. For reasons that are too complicated, too convoluted, too political, and, quite frankly, too sensitive to divulge here, let me just tell you that several staff members were being handed vastly different teaching assignments than they wanted, or expected, to see. And if you know anything about human nature, the fallout from that news was nothing short of nuclear: La Entrada was the new Three Mile Island. A complete meltdown was looming. And then Fehmeen made a momentous, game-changing decision. Regretfully, I can only provide you with scant details of that decision, only that she will be taking on a new teaching assignment next year. It's a job that she has wanted to do for years and as a by-product of her accepting the position, the move allowed all but a few of our colleagues to return to their more desired assignments. As a fellow educator, I applaud her courage to step into the breach of a new subject and as a husband and friend, I am excited to see her so excited about this great opportunity. I'm so proud of you, babe.

* * * * *

To Boldly Go ... in the Back of an Ambulance ... Again

When I went to see the new Star Trek movie with a friend on Friday, I'll admit to you, my loyal and secret-keeping readers, that I did a bad, bad thing. Even though I knew it was wrong, I did it anyway. I flaunted one of the most hallowed and long-standing rules of the cinema and I did it with glee: I brought in AND consumed "Outside Food". Earlier that afternoon when I purchased it, the "Outside Food" was almost an afterthought but as soon as the lights dimmed and the previews began to roll, the forbidden alure of the "Outside Food" was just too much for me to handle. I tore into the plastic packaging and ate my share of the "Outside Food" and settled in to enjoy the ride. When the movie (which was excellent, btw) ended and we left to meet Fehmeen downtown for dinner, I had all but forgotten that I had eaten any "Outside Food" at all. Unfortunately for all involved, I suddenly remembered about the "Outside Food" when my head came crashing down on the table of the sushi restaurant during our conversation about Fehmeen's new job. Several attempts to revive me went unheeded when, at last, the paramedics arrived. They were operating under the assumption that I was having a seizure since I was unable to tell anyone about my experience with the "Outside Food", which was, completely obvious to me, finally starting to kick in. Once I was in a good space in the hospital, I told the doctor about the "Outside Food" and an hour and a turkey sandwich later, I was home. Embarrassed, but home.

Note: Outside Food = Chocolate chip cookie infused with marijuana

* * * * *

So, now I ask you, when have you, or someone you know, been a rock star?

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About the Author
Jason Picetti

Jason Picetti lived life with ALS by six simple words: Speech and movement compromised, spirit unaffected. He died on October 2011.

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