My Own Perfect Poison

Being the loudest and the funniest guy in the room worked well when I was sixteen. Home was intense; I never knew when blue skies would turn stormy. The neighborhood was intense; I lived in Navy Housing, the ghetto portion of any otherwise affluent San Diego community but I didn't know how to use my fists. School was intense.

On my first day at Farb Middle School, a guy was practicing bike tricks in the parking lot and he accidentally crashed into me. He worked his embarrasment out by punching me in the eye. I didn't know what to say or do. But fortunately, the next time someone gave me crap, the words in my head cooperated and I blurted out the perfect smart-assed reply. Like a treefrog, I could manufacture and excrete my own perfect poison.

After that, my peers and I had an understanding: I could claw my way to a certain amount of popularity as long as I remembered my place as the jester. I was allowed in the throne room but I had to dress funny and be funny and not bother the royalty. I agreed to the terms and even my teachers seemed to enjoy the Matt Mintz Show.

My English teacher, Mrs. Edwards was bosomy and heavy-featured. She was the Hester Prynne I envisioned when we read the Scarlet Letter. Mrs. Edwards made us write a poem for homework but I forgot. When she asked us to turn the assignment in, I grabbed a pencil and paper and, in the time it took the class to dig their poems out of their backpacks and pass them to the front, I scribbled an eight-line poem and mixed the imposter in with the ones that were actuallly more than a minute old.

Mrs. Edwards passed our graded papers back during the next class. She scolded me for not taking the assignment seriously but said that, despite my use of the trite phrase 'sick and tired', my poem was better than most. She gave me a sly Hester Prynne smile and warned me, "If you actually decide to apply yourself someday, Matthew, your words will be strong."

Twenty-two years have passed and fortunately I'm not the class clown anymore. The Matt Mintz Show is rarely on because the Matt Mintz that's a dad and a husband and a good friend knows that real life and love are more than just a bunch of strung-together chances to performance. Plus timing is everything.

You'd be proud of me, Mrs. Edwards. I have applied myself. I stuck with the words. Those powerful, exhilarating--at times, goddamned exasperating--words.

Check out some more more of my writing in this excerpt from my new song, "I'll Be All Right"...

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Matt-Mintz-Music/118706994836181?v=box_3#!/pages/Matt-Mintz-Music/118706994836181?v=wall