Photo by John Hoff
There are very few newbies at the marshal training, so much of what is said is pretty standard fare. But there's always somebody whose personality becomes like grit in the wheels of history...
The "training" consists mostly of somebody talking at the crowd, saying what the sheet of music is which all of them will be on. There is little fun or excitement, like simulated sumo-wrestling while wearing pillow pads, or actors simulating a ranting and raving counter-protest. Maybe they will get to some of that, though, or just maybe that will never happen because, well...
There's one in every crowd. You can tell who they are by their shouted remarks, their long introduction, and then, at a key moment, seizing the stage: Yes, I have ONE QUESTION AND TWO COMMENTS. (It's not the guy in the picture, I should point out. He is making himself USEFUL by fetching more chairs, but maybe one less chair could have been for the best)
Mr. Attention Seeker seizes his moment. The person in the front calls on him. Now he can bore the crowd with his long-winded so-called question.
Drone. Drone. Drone. And due to some unfortunate physical and/or mental condition, the guy can't actually ENUNCIATE very well. He says he's part of Vietnam Veterans against the war, but looks just a wee bit too young to have been a part of that conflict and, well, he never would have survived life in a platoon where fragmentation grenades are readily available.
The training might commence again soon enough. That might happen when the person running it stops trying to be so polite and tells Mr. Wants The Spotlight All To Himself that "we have to move on..."
Then again, in a crowd THIS politically correct, that might NEVER happen. There are advantages and disadvantages to hierarchical versus non-centralized systems of organization, but one undeniable advantage of hierarchy is this: the person in charge (and there is a person like that) can tell the long-winded attention seeker from the peanut gallery to SIT HIMSELF DOWN, because he is boring people to tears and mostly just looking for an excuse to talk about HIMSELF.
Being the amazing, true-to-life adventures and (very likely) misadventures of a writer who seeks to take his education, activism and seemingly boundless energy to North Minneapolis, (NoMi) to help with a process of turning a rapidly revitalizing neighborhood into something approaching Urban Utopia. I am here to be near my child. From 02/08 to 06/15 this blog pushed free speech to the envelope, so others could take heart and speak unafraid. Email me at hoffjohnw@gmail.com
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