Punchline

 A very long time ago, in the scheme of things relating to my employment in an elementary school, I worked with a very nice lady who taught fifth grade, then second grade. She found her way to the teaching profession much in the same way I did: via the intern credentialling program sponsored by the Oakland Unified School District. She had come from the world of middle management, not unlike me, her experience being more corporate having spent years in the Hewlett Packard machine. Interestingly enough, she got her job through the same organization that recruited me. I suppose she figured if the partnership worked for me, it could work for everybody. 

And so we began a partnership, of sorts, with her classroom just a couple doors down from my own. When things went sideways, like another teacher being absent without a substitute or rainy day recess, her admonition was always the same: "Keep hope alive." 

This was some years ago, mind you, and I used these opportunities to lean on a bit that I had heard a comedian use once upon an even longer ago: "Keep Hope alive? Bob Hope is like a hundred and ninety years old, and he hasn't bee funny for a hundred and fifty of those. I think it's time we let Hope go." 

Yes, dear readers, this was a time when show business legend Bob Hope was still alive. He lived to see a few years of the twenty-first century, which I used as an ax to grind whenever anyone who was even slightly younger than show business legend would pass on. There were plenty of those. At the same time, I knew that she was reiterating a statement made famous by the Reverend Jesse Jackson, a voice that was familiar to me as well, but I could not pass up the chance to make some dark fun of the experience. 

Bob Hope went first, followed a few years ago by my friend and co-worker Brenda Mapp. And just a few days ago, the Reverend Jesse Jackson went to that big revival meeting in the sky. At least I'm pretty sure that's where they hold those things. Jesse was a civil rights leader with a passion to make things right. I know this primarily because my father was entranced enough by the Reverend to become a delegate for him at the 1984 Colorado Democratic Convention. In many ways, he paved the path for Barack Obama some twenty years later. His business was all about keeping hope alive. Jesse perhaps more than my father, but it was enough to leave a cultural mark.

One that would give me a sarcastic punchline whenever I needed it. 

My dad is gone too. 

And now I find myself asking you all to keep hope alive. 

Life is funny that way. 

Jesse Jackson stomped on the Terra. He will be missed.