Rushmore Clips: I Wish I Knew

People (the sort running 'round my head on empty) are always asking me what kind of student I was in school.

In a word or two? I sucked. Wait. That was a bit harsh. I was average. That's more like it.

Back then, no one gave you a trophy for potential. That's a recent development - and a destructive one at that.

I got a lot of "hey, junior you sure have potential. How come your grades are so low?" from teachers in my day. Ooof, if I got a Hayes greenback for every time I heard that...

By the time I was done, teachers had given up. I didn't salvage some academic integrity until university. Even then I didn't play my cards right. My ambitions were always...elsewhere.

***

Once, in the sixth grade, my teacher had it in for me for some reason. I guess I rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it's because I wore Lacoste. I don't know.

On this particular day, she got on my case for not doing my homework while I was hanging up some crap over the chalk board for some reason. All I could do is smirk like a douchetard when she asked me why I didn't do my homework. I felt inadequate. There was no Oxford on the horizon for dear old me. I wasn't a serious guy when it came to scholastics, what can I say?

Again, details are sketchy, but I had prepared an interesting collage on a big card board sheet for a project. I remember my friend J.C. telling the teacher about it as I stood on a desk at the chalk board. I was too embarrassed to tell her about it. Yes, I was fully prepared to let it set by my desk for eternity - or at least until the janitor picked it up. I figured after being belittled and blasted for not completing my homework she wasn't going to care about some creative cardboard contraption I came up with.

Partially impressed and partially annoyed she said what I lacked in diligence (or some word I can't really recall) I made up in amibition.

I wished my dragon on my polo breathed fire on her sorry ass.

The truth is, much like now, my mind was always elsewhere. Never focused on the immediate. It made for one tough school experience. My friend, who is convinced I could have been a top student with a little effort, under estimated just how unfocused I was. He attributed my distinct inability to pull in the grade to my being "too cool for life."

I was always more realistic and frank with myself.

Rushmore is among my personal favorite movies. There's a cadence to the flick that just resonates with me. And yes, in Max Fisher you do get a glimpse of how I was - without the charisma and activities. I wish I was as single minded as he was!

I was always reading dreaming, thinking, and writing about something else. The 5:50 mark especially brings me back. Ah, those were the days.



And then this part with Bill Murray who was simply great in his role as an unfulfilled millionaire with two dork sons:



And the restaurant scene:



Do I have regrets. Yes and no. I wished I was more, erm, aware of my path in life. Now I see things in a clearer light. I just hope it's not too late.

Which brings me to the ending of the film. In particular the song "Ooh, la, la" by Faces; one of those songs that simply compels one to reflect. I wish I knew then what I know now indeed.