Materialistic Monkeys

            I enjoy working at Math Monkey, or “The Monkey” as the cool kids say, for a variety of reasons, but the main perk lies in the plethora of relatively humorous stories I now have in my repertoire. For instance, just yesterday, when I asked what president is on the nickel, a child replied “Oak Obama?” (pronounced oh-bam-a).Somehow this sparked a light in another kid who then shouted “MITT ROMNEY.” So close. Or I can always fall back on the kid who peed his pants the last four weeks in a row, despite his mom’s forced bathroom trips before class. A little bit sad, but I always find humor in these situations. Though I generally find these stories solely amusing, one of the students I tutor allowed me to greater understand The Great Gatsby and empathize with its characters (except Jordan Baker, I still hate her). Allow me to set the scene: I assist a sixth-grader who has a great personality and appears very intelligent, but really reveals the woes of a modern preteen. This Tuesday, she entered, no, strutted into the tutoring room wearing a thick coat of glitter pink eye shadow and mascara, and I let a subtle look of confusion slip due to the fact that I struggle to wear basic make-up on a daily basis as a senior in high school. I then noted her iPhone 4s, emphasis on the s, she does not mess around with any old iPhone 4, that she had contained in a giant silicon bunny case, tail and everything (for a visual). I could not retain my curiosity and inquired about when she first received a cell-phone, and she promptly informed me she acquired it in fourth grade. At this point, I started to feel a little old as I relayed the classic “When I was your age” routine. With the thought of Daisy in the back of my mind, I immediately became critical of the girl’s apparent materialism, despite enjoying her character and intellect. However, I soon realized I would have, and still do, act the same, just in different ways. This forced me to note the similarities between myself and all of Fitzgerald’s characters. I think we all contain at least of touch of materialism and sense of entitlement, but, when observing our own flaws, we often criticize without recognizing the commonalities. Some may argue that the booming economy and celebratory attitude of the 20s instilled much of the character’s greediness, but did our society not create the Hummer Stretch Limo? We all always want more, and neither I, nor my tutee, nor Daisy, nor any of the characters in The Great Gatsby, act any different.

Combating the Common Cold

            I would like to take this opportunity to formally apologize to everyone who had the misfortune of sharing a class with me during these past few weeks. The constant sniffling, coughing and nose blowing surely annoyed you as it does me. I interrupt my every attempt to speak with an extreme cough or, at the very least, a minor sniffle. To give you an idea of the scale of my struggle, I attempted to count my sniffles during a ten minute period and had to give up when I reached 146. It is a little difficult to make an impressive, analytical argument that people will take serious when your sentences sound like this: "I *sniff* think that *sniff* the green light *series of coughs* acts as a *sniff* symbol of hope *cough* can I get a tissue?" Just a bit annoying. To the extent of my knowledge, I never experienced a true cold prior to Thanksgiving, but I have definitely complained about others’ sicknesses. Sorry, but we all can admit blowing your nose is not cute. My experiences with this terrible entity have forced me to realize I must try to act like more of a Nick Carraway when I inevitably become the healthy one forced to listen to the nasal wars of others. Although I originally scuffed at his idea of "reserving judgments" to a point, my vexing virus has taught me that I truly do not know the extent of everyone else's issues, and I cannot judge until, excuse the trite, I have walked a mile in their shoes (2). I absolutely abhor having a cold and hope I never have to experience it again, but I definitely learned a lot from it. On top of the gained empathy for those battling illnesses, I feel my sickness allows me to relate to those who have to excuse themselves to cough or sneeze as well. As Fitzgerald notes, the division between the sick and the well proves the most fundamental separation and one of the few that appears exempt from all other factors. It does not matter if I have not spoken to someone in years or talk to them daily, I will still have a great conversation with them as we approach the tissue box at the same time or reach for the Purell in unison or even provide medicine for each other (shout out to Jessica Walker for the Tylenol). So, to my fellow sicklings, I finally feel for you. And to those fortunate to have an immune system comparable to Fort Knox, I know the coughing annoys you, but I guarantee you will experience the same one day so do not hate on the sniffles.

The Great... Gabe?

            No one can escape rumors, but extended absences leave one particularly vulnerable to the power of fallacies. We all spread them and hear them about ourselves, yet they consistently vary in interpretation. You have your Gatsby’s, for instance, who live for the mystery and love staying elusive. They enjoy the extensive stories swirling around their name and only reveal truths when absolutely necessary. Although you sometimes have the temptation to hit them in the jugular, you continue to facilitate the stories and secretly find pleasure in the drama. Whenever you feel tired of these Gatsby’s, search for the Gabe’s in your life. He misses a few days of school for a family vacation and suddenly our class determines he needed to fly to Mexico in order to inspect his sector of the drug cartel. But in reality, he did not even visit Mexico. He went to Florida. Bland ol’ Florida. Nevertheless, upon his return, he exhibited nonchalance and did not act the least bit restrained when clarifying the truth. Score. Our class experienced all the fun of drama and mystery without the frustration of a character such as Gatsby. Not everyone lucks out like first period, and the complexity of rumors never ceases to amaze me. Any mystery or source of speculation causes rumors and gossip, so, really, Gatsby’s reserved nature and Gabe’s vacation to “Florida” do not have too many differences. I guess the only question that remains is when will you start throwing the massive ragers, Gabe?