I Am Martin

If you haven't read the namesake of this blog, Candide by Voltaire, you wouldn't understand the title of this entry without an explanation...so here it is.

Of several main characters the three that stick out are of course Candide and his two philosopher friends and travel mates Pangloss and Martin. Pangloss is an optimist who believes in the age old saying, "Everything happens for a reason." Martin on the other hand is a cynical scholar. As an extreme pessimist, he expects nothing but the worst in every situation. Although I can't say I am this intense, I find Martin to be a much closer example of myself than Pangloss. And it stings me to say the main reason is...my choice of college major. This post is about to go in all directions so sit back, grab a drink and try to follow along.

I started school with no intent on falling in love with art and its history. After a few freshman year courses, I couldn't help but believe that this was the future for me. NOT KNOWING WHATSOEVER the possible, or lack of, career opportunities available. After committing to the major and attempting to figure out my future life, I became disturbed. I can blame it on the economy but the truth is, not as many people need art, or realize that they do, as much as they need financial advice, or manager assistance, or insurance agents, all careers I could have easily pursued.

Now I am in no way questioning my love of the subject. If I didn't enjoy it, I never would have voluntarily taken the additional unnecessary classes. I also have no doubt that I want to pursue a higher education in Art History that will allow me to reach certain goals, namely, becoming a College Professor. And with an Art History degree, their are not many options without some form of a masters degree. Okay, so chalk it up, here I come graduate school, fine with me. Now does this make me any more stress free? Of course not, I am Martin. I will find a flaw in a Rolex watch, or a circle-me-bert insta-circle.

Here is where things get twisted and this post takes a wicked turn. I thought about doing these topics separately, but in reality they work in complete harmony. The utterly exhausting pessimistic view I have of my future and my favorite moment in four years of college. I had plenty of good ones. Of course the parties, especially the several held at the expense of my own granny-smith green home. Or when 4 friends and I walked into Jackpot Junction Casino while the sun was setting and eight hours later left while the sun was rising. How about a semester in Italy. I mean come on, how can that not top the list (my moments there do make up numbers 2 - 50). Poker tournaments, movie marathons, a UND trip, a Vegas trip, even an entire January of N64 Mariokart. My final college class, final exam, final paper, senior week, commencement...they all line up single file behind number one. And sorry friends who hope you may be involved, I was alone.

My favorite moment came on a lone night, sitting on my porch with a glass of wine, a cigar and two papers to peer critique all with a raging party only seven feet and a screen door away. As finals neared and paper due dates peaked around the corner, this particular night needed to be focused on schoolwork. Instead of going to the library or locking myself away in my room, I decided to plop myself on the porch with a drink, a smoke, my ears listening to the rain and my eyes correcting papers. This night was beyond awesome, it was immediate facebook status awesome.

The reason I connect these two topics is because for the first time in my life, I was CERTAIN of what my future held for me. College professor, that is my calling, officially. Teaching, my goal. Several more nights drinking wine, smoking cigars and correcting papers on future porches. This is my Eden. I know it might be hard for you to believe this small moment could be the best of my college life, but you don't feel my cynicism. In this moment, everything in my life was perfect. My life was a butterfly, freed of my cocoon. I was Pangloss, if only for that hour, that moment.

It is tough for me to label exactly what I have learned from the realization that these two experiences work side by side. Maybe just that no matter how bad or tough things seem to be; no matter how stressed or pessimistic you are; no matter how confused or sad or haunted by the freight train that is your impending future, just find that one moment in your life that was flawless. Now channel that moment. Now smile. See? It is all going to work out beautifully. If perfect happened once, it will most certainly strike again.