Americanized

Pat Sullivan was tardy. Again. Not by much, but still, late for Mrs. Rose's Algebra class. He wasn't a bad kid. In fact, he was a fairly good student, and a good athlete.

Unfortunately, when it came to classes that began after lunch, he was over-casual with regard to start time.

It was hot. It was always hot. However, Traweek Junior High had ample air conditioning. So, we sat, steam rising from exposed skin, as the near-retirement age math teacher, with the stern demeanor and dry humor, smacked Pat on the head with her ruler, all in good fun, and in blatant disregard for the anti-corporal-punishment laws of the State of California.

Smack!

"Patrick!" She hissed, (she was the only person who ever called him by his full name...) "Certainly a bright young mathematician such as yourself should know how to tell time!"

"I was testing you to see whether you missed me." He responded.

Smack!

Apparently, she didn't. Mrs. Rose reared back for another swing at his head, (they both thoroughly enjoyed this game) when suddenly the door opened and in-stepped the Honors English teacher, Mrs. Rodgers, with amber-tinted glasses and over-permed hair.

"Don't let me stop you, Barbara, he was late to my class too."

Smack!

"What brings us this honor, Alice?" asked Mrs. Rose, while she wiped Pat's head sweat from her measuring stick.

"I'm looking for Brian."

"Which one? We have so many..."

"Brian R____," Said Mrs. Rodgers, which was odd, since I was not in her class.

Everyone looked at me. "Oh good lord," I thought to myself, "What could I have possibly done now?"

Mrs. Rose pointed her long bony finger at me. Mrs. Rodgers followed the wrinkly appendage and looked right at me. "WHY WHY WHY are you not in my English class?"

"Huh?" I was perplexed.

See, I was in the English class that the school put me in. As certain commenters to this blog will explain, I went to the elementary school on the wrong side of the tracks. Our Junior High was fed by matriculating 6th graders from several elementary schools. Most of the brighter students had been tracked at an early age out of the other feeder schools, into the GATE program at Grovecenter Elementary.

While I had started at Workman Elementary, I had actually tested into the GATE program in the first grade. However, I strongly resisted changing schools because all of my friends went to Workman. This was, of course a fallacy, since no one at Workman liked me, but that's another blog...

Anyway, this simply meant that when I graduated up to Junior High, I was tracked with all of the "non-GATE" kids, except for in Math. Math had a placement test, and that was my first exposure to those GATE bastards from Grovecenter, such as Deuce and Dr. Brian...

All of this explanation is unnecessary for the shocking turn to come later in the post, but I just wanted to make sure I wasn't accused of posting filler...

So, Mrs. Rodgers was inquisitive how I, a likely GATE candidate, wasn't in her super-special Honors English class. I explained that I didn't know, but that I felt I was doing fine in Mr. Sanchez's English class.

She then grabbed me by the arm and physically dragged me to the Principal's office. (Note: While I often embellish these torrid tales, this is an actual fact.) By the time we got there, Mr. Sanchez had been summoned. Vice Principal McClane looked confused.

My ego, substantial as it already was, got the added boost that day as I watched two teachers argue with the administration over who got to have me in their class. Truth be told, Mrs. Rodgers didn't really need me. She was just a maniacal power-hungry control-freak.

Mr. Sanchez, on the other hand... Let's just say, I WAS his class participation. I enjoyed his class, but I may have been the only one. Picture a male Hermione Granger in a grey hoodie, and you get the idea. He was a good teacher, though, and made 8th grade lit class interesting.

I remember that he used the western novel, Shane, to demonstrate plot lines, sub plots, protagonists and antagonists. While Mrs. Rodgers eventually won the argument, it is Mr. Sanchez's simple, yet well-illustrated, lessons that I remember to this day.

Which brings us, with no surprise, to this day. Like I said, it is the Sanchez diagrams, and discussions about plot-lines and plot-elements that I still see in my mind when I read books, or watch movies.

It was those very lessons that wandered around my head on Thursday as I watched The Office, and by that, I mean the Americanized Office on NBC. It is a show that I started to watch at the end of its second season. It is the only half-hour comedy that I have been able to watch in many many years.

As the missus pointed out this morning over breakfast, Thursday's episode was both hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time. With due respect to fans of House, I love The Office for the very same reason I dislike that doctor drama.

On House, no one is likable, particularly the protagonist. On The Office, however, Everyone is likable, even the antagonists. Everyone has a redeeming quality, and on Thursday, that theme was brilliantly displayed. True to Mr. Sanchez's teachings, the plot-line, sub-plot-lines, and plot elements were clear, but in the resolution, the antagonist saves the day.

And while I generally detest the "Americanization" of anything (it usually means "dumbing down..."), in this case it meant adding the exact good-natured elements that I enjoy.

My only regret is that I was tardy in coming to watch the series. Perhaps someone should smack me in the head with a ruler.