Let It Begin With Me.

When a Sunday feels like a Saturday, you are either in good shape or denial. In the case of this day, I am in good shape as tomorrow is a holiday. As it should be. Three day weekends of the minor set (i.e. no BBQ traditions, RV outings or bagpipe competitions) are bones thrown to lazy dogs. They are unexpected freebies meant to be chewed on and enjoyed. Or discarded if you like. And with them you feel no pressure to recreate or marinate.

Today I was volunteering down by Gramercy Park at Washington Irving High School. This beautiful high school building done in the Gothic style was completed in 1913 and has a lovely wooden two-story entry and central stone fireplace. Claudette Colbert went to school here and the exterior was used in "Head of the Class." The school is directly across from the house that Washington Irving supposedly lived in, but that has been in dispute for years thus the unofficial plaque. There is a sushi restaurant in the basement that is not original.

On a break I walked up Irving Place towards Gramercy Park and decided I wanted to live here. There is the pub where O'Henry wrote Gift of the Magi at the front table. The neighborhood and old photos in the pub suggest something really gentile in the midst of insane urban life. Gramercy Park has lovely townhouses and a club where Theodore Roosevelt was a member.

Afterwards whilst sitting in the high school lobby and looking at the grand fireplace and wooden staircase offset by the metal detector machine used for the students funneling in every morning and this sign:

I thought to myself that I am a looker backer not a looker forwarder. I want a time when education was valued, proper manners were expected and extended, and kids didn't shoot each other. I want people to dress nicely and tip their hats. But I also want the internet, modern medicine, civil rights for all and teeth whitener. A bit of a problem.

What has happened in our world where kids just don't see the value of an education, let alone a future? If I didn't fall so short myself, I would want to tell every kid in that school the truth of what they have access to and what they are throwing away. There is a place for Pride: in oneself, one's school and one's appearance. The list could go on. I have to feel a part of, some ownership, some responsibility to feel this pride. Is this what kids lack?

The time I want is now. And as eye-rolling 1970's PSA folk-fervor as it sounds, it begins with me. I must be a part of making it a better place, a cleaner place and a dressier place. I can tuck my shirt in, clean up my entry way and say hello to the neighbors for starters. And a blinding white, sparkly smile is a necessity before I can do any of this...