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June 13th, 2004

January 6th, 2004

January 5th, 2004

January 4th, 2004

December 21st, 2003

December 16th, 2003

Current Mood:	confused
Subject:	thanks mitch.
Time:	04:21 pm

lots of language in this one... but it's worth it.
---
I got an ant farm. Them fellas didn't grow shit.

I haven't slept for ten days, because that would be too long.

Last week I helped my friend stay put. It's a lot easier than helping someone move. I just went over to his house and made sure that he did not start to load shit into a truck.

I got my hair highlighted, because I felt some strands were more important than others.

I want to be a race car passenger: just a guy who bugs the driver. "Say man, can I turn on the radio? You should slow down. Why do we gotta keep going in circles? Can I put my feet out the window? Man, you really like Tide..."

I wrote a letter to my dad - I wrote, "I really enjoy being here," but I accidentally wrote rarely instead of really. But I still wanted to use it so i crossed it out and wrote, "I rarely drive steamboats, dad - there's a lot of shit you don't know about me. Quit trying to act like I'm a steamboat operator." This letter took a harsh turn right away...

...and then at the end of the letter I like to write "P.S. - this is what part of the alphabet would look like if Q and R were eliminated.

I got in an argument with a girlfriend inside of a tent. That's a bad place for an argument, because then I tried to walk out, and had to slam the flap. How are you supposed to express your anger in this situation? Zip it up real quick?

I type a 101 words a minute. But it's in my own language.

I think Bigfoot is blurry, that's the problem. It's not the photographer's fault. Bigfoot is blurry. And that's extra scary to me, because there's a large, out-of-focus monster roaming the countryside. Run. He's fuzzy. Get outta here.

I have an underwater camera just in case I crash my car into a river, and at the last minute I see a photo opportunity of a fish that I have never seen.

One time a guy handed me a picture of himself, and he said, "Here's a picture of me when I was younger." Every picture of you is of when you were younger. Here's a picture of me when I am older. You son of a bitch, how'd you pull that off? Let me see that camera...

My roommate says, "I need to shave and use the shower. Does anyone need to use the bathroom?" It's like some weird-ass quiz where he reveals the answer first...

...Every time I go and shave I assume there is somebody else on the planet shaving as well, so I say "I'm gonna go shave too"

Sometimes I wave to people I don't know. It is very dangerous to wave to people you don't know, because what if they don't have a hand? They'll think you're cocky. "Look what I got motherfucker, this thing is useful...I'm gonna go pick something up"

My sister wanted to be an actress, but she never made it. She does live in a trailer. She got half way. She's an actress, she just never gets called to the set.

On a traffic light green means go and yellow means yield, but on a banana it's just the opposite. Green means hold on, yellow means go ahead, and red means where the fuck did you get that banana at...

I'm against picketing, but I don't know how to show it.

If carrots got you drunk, rabbits would be fucked up.

I like vending machines, because snacks are better when they fall. If I buy a candy bar at the store oftentimes I will drop it, so that is achieves its maximum flavor potential.

I bought a seven dollar pen because I always lose pens and I got sick of not caring.

I think pickles are cucumbers that sold out. They sold their soul to the devil, and the devil is dill...

I bought a doughnut and they gave me a receipt for the doughtnut...I don't need a receipt for the doughnut - I give you money and you give me the doughnut, end of transaction. We don't need to bring ink and paper into this. I can't imagine a scenario that I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. To some skeptical friend, Don't even act like I didn't buy a doughnut, I've got the documentation right here...

I was walking down the street with my friend and he said "I hear music." As though there's any other way to take it in. You're not special. That's how I receive it too...I tried to taste it, but it did not work...

You know they call corn on the cob, corn on the cob, but that's how it comes out of the ground, man. They should call that corn, they should call every other version corn off the cob. It's not like if you cut off my arm you would call it Mitch. Then reattach it and call me Mitch-all-together...

2-in-1 is a bullshit term, because 1 is not big enough to hold 2. That's why 2 was created.

I have a cheese-shredder at home, which is its positive name. They don't call it by its negative name, which is sponge-ruiner. Because I wanted to clean it, and now I have little bits of sponge that would melt easily over tortilla chips...

I know a lot about cars. I can look at a car's headlights and tell you exactly which way it's coming.

I use the word totally too much. I need to change it up and use a word that is different but has the same meaning. Mitch do you like submarine sandwhiches? All-encompassingly...

This shirt is dry clean only. Which means...it's dirty.

I saw a human pyramid once. It was very unnecessary. It did not need to exist.

I played golf...I did not get a hole in one, but I did hit a guy. That's way more satisfying...

...You're supposed to yell 'fore' but I kept thinking there ain't no way that's gonna hit him.

I have a friend who is a juggler. When I go to his house I don't like to take food from him if it is in threes. "He has three apples left...I guess I can't have one"

At my hotel room, my friend came over and asked to use the phone. I said "Certainly." He said "Do I need to dial 9?" I say "Yeah. Especially if it's in the number. You can try four and five back to back real quick."

My lucky number is four billion. That doesn't come in real handy when you're gambling. "Come on, four billion! Fuck. Seven. Not even close. I need more dice."

I love blackjack. But I'm not addicted to gambling. I'm addicted to sitting in a semi-circle.

I went to the park and saw this kid flying a kite. The kid was really excited. I don't know why, that's what they're supposed to do. Now if he had had a chair on the other end of that string, I would have been impressed.

If you had a friend who was a tightrope walker, and you were walking down a sidewalk, and he fell, that would be completely unacceptible...

I don't own a cell phone or a pager. I just hang around everyone I know, all the time. If someone needs to get ahold of me they just say, "Mitch," and I say, "what" and turn my head slightly...

I hope the next time I move I get a real easy phone number. Something like, 222-2222. I would say sweet. People would say, "Mitch, how do I get ahold of you?" I would say, "Press 2 for a while, and when I answer, you will know that you have pressed 2 enough"

I wrote a script for a guy, and he said he liked it but he thought that I need to rewrite it. I said, "Fuck that, I'll just make a copy."

I don't wear a watch because I want my arms to weigh the same. So if somebody asks me what time it is, I have to tell them something that is going on. "What time is it, Mitch?" "Uh, that guy is eating a hamburger." "Shit, I had to be somewhere..."

That would be cool if you could eat a good food with a bad food and the good food would cover for the bad food when it got to your stomach. Like you could eat a carrot with an onion ring and they would travel down to your stomach, then they would get there, and the carrot would say, "It's cool, he's with me."

I saw a six pack of soda-pop for $1.20. That price fucks with your head, man. Because then I though that I would start selling soda-pop. Suddenly I got things of pop with me. "What's going on, Mitch." "Not much, looking to buy some pop? Fifty cents a can. It's not refridgerated because this is a half assed commitment."

My friend said to me "Man, this weather is trippy." I said to him, "No man, perhaps it is not the weather that is trippy, it is the way we perceive it that is indeed trippy..." then I thought, man, I should have just said, 'yeah...'

I opened up a container of yogurt, and under the lid it said Please Try Again because they were having a contest I was unaware of. But I though I might have opened the yogurt wrong...or maybe Yoplait was trying to inspire me, 'c'mon, Mitchell, don't give up. Please try again. A message of inspiration from your friends at Yoplait. Fruit on the bottom, hope on top.

I think foosball is a combination of soccer and shishkabobs.

Foosball fucked up my perception of soccer. I though you had to kick the ball and then spin 'round and round. I can't do a backflip, much less several simultaneously with two other guys.

I never joined the army because at ease was never that easy to me. Seemed rather uptight still. I don't relax by parting my legs slightly and putting my hands behind my back. That does not equal ease. At ease was not being in the military. I am at ease, bro, because I am not in the military.

The depressing thing about tennis is that no matter how much I play, I'll never be as good as a wall. I played a wall once. They're fucking relentless.

I think Pringles' initial intention was to make tennis balls. But on the day that the rubber was supposed to show up, a big truckload of potatoes arrived. But Pringles is a laid-back company. They said "Fuck it. Cut em up."

A severed foot is the ultimate stocking stuffer.

I used to be a hot-tar roofer. Yeah, I remember that...day.

An escalator can never break. It can only become stairs. You would never see an "Escalator Temporarily Out Of Order" sign, just "Escalator Temporarily Stairs. Sorry for the convenience."

Because of [dropping] Acid, I know now that butter is way better than margarine. I saw through the bullshit.

I don't have a girlfriend. But I do know a woman who'd be mad at me for saying that.

I used to do drugs. I still do, but I used to, too.

My friend said to me, "You know what I like? Mashed potatoes." I was like, "Dude, you have to give me time to guess. If you're going to quiz me you have to insert a pause."

I went to see a band in New York. The lead singer got on the microphone, and he said "How many of you people feel like human beings tonight?" Then he said "How many of you feel like animals?" And everyone cheered after the animals part. But the thing is, I cheered after the human being part because I did not know that there was a second part to the question.

People teach their dogs to sit, it's a trick. I've been sitting my whole life, and a dog has never looked at me as though he thought I was tricky.

I like cinnimon rolls, but I don't always have time to make a pan. That's why I wish they would sell cinnimon roll incense. After all I'd rather light a stick and have my roommate wake up with false hopes.

I had a bag of fritos, they were texas grilled fritos. These fritos had grill marks on them. Hell yeah, reminds me of something, when we used to fire up the barbeque and throw down some fritos. I can still see my dad with the apron on, better flip that frito, dad, you know how I like mine.

In England Smoky the Bear is not the forest fire prevention representative. They have Smacky the Frog. It's just like a bear, but it's a frog. I think it's a better system, I think we should adopt it. Because bears can be mean, but frogs are always cool. Never has there been a frog hopping toward me, and I thought 'man, I'd better play dead. Here comes that frog...' You never say here comes that frog in a nervous manner. It's always optimistic. Hey here comes that frog, al-right. Maybe he'll come near me so I can pet him, and stick him in a mayonnaise jar, with a stick and a leaf, to recreate what he's used to. And I'm pretty sure I'd have to punch some holes in the lid, because he's damn sure used to air. Then I can observe him, and he won't be doing much in his 16 ounce world.

Alcoholism is a disease, but it's the only one you can get yelled at for having. Goddamn it Otto, you are an alcoholic. Goddamn it Otto, you have Lupis... one of those two doesn't sound right.

I was at this casino minding my own business, and this guy came up to me and said, "You're gonna have to move, you're blocking a fire exit." As though if there was a fire, I wasn't gonna run. If you're flammible and have legs, you are never blocking a fire exit.

When you go to a restaurant on the weekends and it's busy they start a waiting list. They start calling out names, they say "Dufrane, party of two. Dufrane, party of two." And if no one answers they'll say their name again. "Dufrane, party of two, Dufrane, party of two." But then if no one answers they'll just go right on to the next name. "Bush, party of three." Yeah, what happened to the Dufranes. No one seems to give a shit. Who can eat at a time like this - people are missing. You fuckers are selfish....the Dufranes are in someone's trunk right now, with duct take over their mouths, and they're hungry. Bush, search party of three, you can eat when you find the Dufranes.

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December 10th, 2003

December 7th, 2003

Current Music:	offspring - hit that
Current Mood:	exhausted
Subject:	h.o. issue 2
Time:	12:09 am

yes kiddos, that's right. it's once again time for another episode of the
already-established-but-only-recently-titled 'H.O. (Hillsboro Occasionally)'.
so, basically, I think I'll give you a rundown of what's been happening in my
life, which is obviously exciting enough to warrant an email like this. I'll
keep the same format as before, in which I run down my classes and then touch
on everything else that I can think of that's happening in my life.
so, if you have forgotten from last time, first period is forensic science.
we've transitioned out of arthropods and dead cats and moved on to talking about
more human cases. we went through the phases of death (yeah, that was great for
my anxiety). we're now talking about blood spatters and how to find out which
direction the impact came from. a more interesting unit, to be sure. the other
great thing about this class is that we always finish everything with half-hour/
45 minutes left in the period. that means that I have that extra time to hang
out with the cool kids in that class, talk, sleep, or whatever. all in all, I'm
enjoying the class but I'm also glad that it's ending in a few weeks.
second period, I've got college prep english with mr. powell. I can't even
describe to you how awesome this is. it seems like every day, mr. powell does
something awesome. so we all basically sit and watch in awe for the powell-esque
moment of the day. and he doesn't disappoint. it's almost like you're in a movie
about high school and they picked an actor to be the teacher who really really
wants his big break to come soon, so he plays every character possible every day.
oh, and I still sit with ian, kyle, ashley, and travis lane, so that's pretty
awesome as well. good kids to start off the day with... every other day.
third period is team sports. we play basketball.
fourth period is student council. it's still pretty much the most awesome
thing that I've ever done in high school. we set up all the canned food drive
stuff (asb's in charge of that, so I've been doing a lot). this year, instead of
just doing teachers and watching ms weidkamp clean up with it, we introduced a
new angle: club competition. yes, this does mean key club, green club, deca, and
christian club are beating up on each other and trying to get the most cans. green
club especially are knocking themselves out - they brought in 407 cans in four
days. 407 cans. in FOUR DAYS. christian club is second with 100. the winning club
recieves a check for $400 from asb. yeah. not even kidding. also, we've been spending
a ton of time getting ready for winter formal (more on that later). we had deco
day today... our theme is 'a night on the town.' yeah, I know. it's not bad, but
it's not exactly celestian in quality. it's fun, though. so we've been knocking
ourselves out decorating, selling tickets, making plans, etc.
fifth period is still seal 2. we're running mock presidential campaigns... and
so, of course, I was selected to be the candidate for my group. we took a political
issues test and broke into groups based on that. I was one point more conservative
than the exact center, so I was placed into 'republicans.' I'm running against kyle
kemper (democrat), doug kim (radical liberal), and nyc hayden (radical conservative).
I think I have a pretty good chance. I'm only really worried about doug, but I think
his views on the issues are going to be too radical for him to really win the race.
sixth period is advanced bio. in other words, this is the class where I go outside
with mark, scotty, and molly to break sticks off of trees and throw them into the
river. we're going to be reassembling bird skeletons soon, though, so it's going to
turn into a real class here pretty soon. I don't really know what else to say about
that one.
umm... okay. let's see. that does it as far as school goes.
extracurriculars. or, everything else in my life.
the fall play is running this week and next week. it's 'noises off.' it's hands
down the best fall play in my four years at glencoe. and the best part about it is
that talent-wise, it's probably the weakest. that says more about the people who have
left than the people who are left... if that makes sense. it ended up being kids who
haven't had a chance because other talented kids have taken the lead parts... but let
me tell you, they shined (shone? shined?). if there's any possible way you can get down
here, you need to see it. but I know that it's probably tough for you to get here. but
whatever.
speaking of drama stuff, I'm going to be directing a one-act this year. I'm going
to be running a production of 'take five.' if you recall, this is the one that kate and
eric were in when I was a freshman. so, I've seen it before, but I don't remember the
production very well. I'm pretty excited about it. we're doing auditions/casting on
monday, so I'll find out then how my cast turns out.
I'm putting the finishing touches on my youth mission team leader application this
weekend, so I'm excited about that. I think it'll be a good time. speaking of applying,
I sent my early-action application to whitworth college. I'll know later this month if
I got in or what. so that's another big thing in my life.
did I mention that winter formal is next saturday? one week from right now, I'll
be there. I'm super excited about it. and as you all know, super excited is equal to
excited times twelve. I'm going with anneliese koehler. she's a jr this year, so that
means that she's a year younger than me. needless to say, I'm pretty excited about that.
we're going with this huge group of cool kids to dinner at kennedy school. it's an old
elementary school in portland that mcmenamins took over and converted into a restaurant
(you can see more about that here http://www.mcmenamins.com/Kennedy/index.html). it's
going to be me and anneliese, kyle staggs and katie reardon, travis schaal and kim
proefrock, adam burton and allison wilcox, michael lucas and jill phetteplace, and holly
romjue and her mysterious date whose name I have forgotten but didn't recognize when I
heard it. afterwards, everyone's going to my place for hot tub and movie and then we're
all staying the night at kyle's house. so..... yeah. it's going to be pretty much the
most kickin' thing ever. and anneliese's on jr class, so that means free pictures.
I went over to jeff bond's house a couple weeks ago and recorded a song. that was
sweet. I'm starting a solo project called 'flyweight.' I wrote another one that I haven't
recorded yet, but I'm going to be doing that probably next weekend. my vision is that
I'll have three or four songs that I can put onto a little ep and send out to any cool
kids who want one. and yes, that means that if you aren't cool, you can't have one. my
first song is a pop-punk number called 'hey anneliese!'. the second, and as-of-yet
unrecorded song is called 'strike three' and it's going to be an emocore sort of song.
think taking back sunday, the used, stuff like that. then I'll have an acoustic song that
I've started to put together called 'I fought football and football won' and one other
song that hasn't even been written yet. hopefully I can get this out by valentine's day.
writing music is hard.
I can't even really think of anything else awesome to talk about... so that's it for
this edition of Hillsboro Occasionally. if you've got any questions or anything, fire away
by email or on aim (hotdogboy25). I'll probably answer them. until then: love, luck, and
lollipops.

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November 24th, 2003

October 22nd, 2003

August 28th, 2003

August 15th, 2003

June 22nd, 2003

Subject:	Iraqi man hid 22 years in a wall: Hussein foe holed up in secret compartment
Time:	12:37 am

SHAMMAR, Iraq — For 22 years, Jawad Amer Sayed was a dead man.
HE WAS on the run from Saddam Hussein’s police in 1981, and instead of fleeing into exile, he decided to stay at home and hide.
Inside a false wall he built between two rooms.
For as long as it would take.
It took 22 years.
But on April 10, the day after Hussein fell from power, Sayed emerged from his hideaway to the amazement of relatives and friends. Only his mother, younger brother and two sisters knew from the beginning what had happened to him. An aunt learned later by mistake but had kept quiet.
Everybody else thought he was dead.
Sometimes, so did he.
“Most of the time, it was very, very quiet. I think only death could be so quiet,” he said while holding court with visitors and admirers one recent day.

WELL-KNOWN STORY
It seems like everybody in Iraq knows Sayed’s story. It reached Baghdad by way of the relative of a television reporter who interviewed him. Newspapers ran with the tale. Iraqis argued about his feat over coffee and tea. Young people questioned whether anyone could — or would want to — hide for so long. They’d rather die, some said. Older people expressed less skepticism — they wondered why more Iraqis didn’t think of doing what he had done.
Sayed said he went outside his homemade tomb only twice — to rebuild and repair the chamber.
“The last time I saw him, he was taller than me,” said Kamel Khalef, a neighbor who stands about 5 feet 8. Sayed embraced Khalef and came up only to his nose.
Sayed’s face is all cheekbone and beard. He lost his teeth, and stores them in a matchbox.
“They fell one by one. I kept them to remember the time I spent. Look at this molar. This one was 1990,” he said.
It is a testament to the fear instilled by Hussein that Sayed came up with a solution that condemned himself to solitary confinement.
He said he was a follower of the Dawa party, a Shiite Muslim group that battled Hussein for decades and has recently, like Sayed himself, emerged into the light of day. Secret police arrested two of his friends and they were executed. “I saw their names on a list of the executed. I thought up this idea. I built the wall in one night,” he said.

A PERSONALIZED LIVING SPACE
Before going in, he buried Dawa books and pamphlets beneath the floor of another room. After emerging at the end of his imprisonment, he dug them out, too.
Sayed lives about 100 miles southeast of Baghdad in a village of flat-roofed farmhouses scattered among date palms, sand and marshes. The chamber where he says he spent almost all his adult life — he is 49 — measures a yard wide by about seven feet long. To enter, he must negotiate a trap door barely wide enough for a slender person to squeeze through.
Inside, Sayed fashioned a terraced living space from dirt he excavated when digging a well — it is located at one end of the compartment. At the other, there’s a toilet, placed somewhat higher. In between, he built a dirt platform to sit on. The lowest point is the space where he could stand and even bathe. A vent lets in air from the roof and a pipe drains water outside.
A peephole no bigger than a finger’s diameter was Sayed’s window on the world. All he could see was the inner courtyard of his farmhouse and now not even that is visible. A date palm grew up to obscure the view. “I witnessed my brother’s wedding from here,” he said. “I didn’t dare go out to celebrate.”
On one wall, he hung the necessities of his monastic life: a light bulb, for when there was electricity, a kerosene lamp, for when there was not; paintbrushes of various sizes to dust himself off; a toothbrush, which has not been useful for some time; an electric hot plate where he prepared rice and beans; and a small shelf that holds a Koran and a book of Dawa politics.
His mother fed him fruit and vegetables through the trap door. He washed his gray cotton robe himself. He continued wearing it after his exit — it has a faded, patchy look.

CLOSE CALLS
In the early years, police twice came looking for him, he said. Once, a policeman entered the adjoining room at night when everyone was asleep, rummaging about the bed that was placed over the trap door. Sayed’s mother, Aziza Masikh Dahash, awoke and screamed, and a neighbor rushed over firing a shotgun. The officer fled.
Sayed’s mother also headed off two construction projects she feared would bring down the tomb around her son’s head. She once threw herself in front of a backhoe a neighbor was using to build a cesspool near the hidden compartment. “They thought I was crazy,” she said.
In-laws were not let in on the secret. In Iraqi society, only blood relatives are fully trusted with deep family secrets. Once, a 13-year-old cousin of Sayed’s wandered into the house, rolled around under the bed and discovered the trap door. He crawled in, spied Sayed and ran to tell his mother, who guessed that it was her nephew and swore the boy to silence. She never told even her sister, Sayed’s mother, of the discovery.
In 1998, one of Sayed’s sisters began to suffer delusional mental illness and talk about him and his wall. They sent her to live with relatives, lest she accidentally spill the story.

PASSING TIME
When asked how he could stand being alone, Sayed answered that he was not. Allah was in there with him, he said. “The Koran teaches that Allah is the companion of anyone who believes,” he said. He has practically memorized the Muslim holy book. When a recent visitor tried to recite some verses, Sayed quickly corrected him.
He passed the time practicing calligraphy and kept abreast of current events via a small battery-operated radio. Arabic-language reports from the British Broadcasting Corporation were his favorite source of information.
During the U.S.-led war, he heard the bombing — his home is near an air base and ammunition depot. The dirt road from the main highway is now littered with abandoned antiaircraft guns.
When he emerged from behind the wall, he put on old sunglasses his mother had kept. He had trouble walking. Visitors have come from miles around, including strangers who want to hear his tale. He jots down the name of each visitor in a guest book. His mother tells one and all how his emergence was like “giving birth a second time.”
Sayed wants to work — he studied management in Baghdad before going into hiding. He’s thinking of marriage. “It depends on my health,” he said. “I enjoy sleeping outside now. Looking at the stars. But, sometimes, I like to go into the wall. It is my second home. Maybe it is my first. I will leave it like it is.”

http://stacks.msnbc.com/news/927602.asp?cp1=1

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May 24th, 2003

April 24th, 2003

Subject:	Ferris Bueller, you're my hero.
Time:	05:31 pm

After reading a series on ESPN.com's page 2 about sports heros (http://espn.go.com/page2/s/heroes/mainbar.html), I decided to write my own. Not related to sports, however, is the story of my hero: Ferris Bueller.

Ferris Bueller is the typical American teenager. But what Ferris has that many lack is the ability to do whatever he wants with no worries whatsoever of the consequences. Ferris is so able to get himself out of any predicament that he can basically do anything. Many kids think they're invincible; Ferris Bueller truly is.

When Ferris and his buddies are at the Chicago Cubs game, Ferris tells Cameron: "If we played by the rules, we'd be in gym right now." Ferris has somehow managed to exclude himself from all of the rules that other teens have to play by. He doesn't do it by being a jerk and not caring; in fact, it's quite the opposite. Ferris is exempt from the rules because he's a good kid. His parents adore him, the kids at school look up to him, and his teachers really don't give a rat's behind about anyone. The only person in the world who doesn't like Ferris Bueller is the utterly idiotic dean of students, Mr. Rooney. but even Rooney has a sort of respect for Ferris' antics, knowing that other kids will follow a kid like Ferris Bueller. Rooney perhaps wishes he would have some of Ferris' characteristics himself.
Ferris Bueller knows the right things to say. His parents pamper him when he's home 'sick,' and make sure their angel is doing alright by calling him and stopping by to check on him throughout the day. The community sees Ferris as an all-around good kid, even though his peers see more of his mischievous side. This duality makes Ferris even the more likeable, able to polish his halo to the authorities while offering a devilish smirk to onlookers.

Indeed, Ferris embodies more characteristics of a less likeable sort of hero; an anti-hero, if you will. One who seems one way and turns out to be another is never well-liked by society. However, Ferris is what he seems to be: an all-around good kid. His nine absences from school is not a high number by todays standards; he never means any malice toward anyone. He simply decides to take a day off, as many teens would like to. His days off are in character with his fun-loving attitude.

I believe Ferris Bueller is not an anti-hero. He is a true hero. Sure, he'll take a day off here and there. The truth behind that, though, is that Ferris seizes the day. He has a true carpe-diem attitude. Many students, when skipping school, would choose to spend all day watching tv at home, or hanging out at the local skate park. Not Ferris. Ferris Bueller strives for something higher. He calls up his hypochondriac best friend (no doubt taking another sick day), and they get his girl out of school scot-free in the face of Mr. Rooney. Ferris even thinks to get the three of them excused for the day, so it won't seem as if anything fishy is going on. They borrow Cameron's 1961 Ferrari 250GT California, even though it's his father's prized posession. They drive into central Chicago, ready for a day of not just fun, but cultural experiences as well. Ferris and his buddies might have learned more on this day than they would have at school. They visit the Chicago Art Institute and look at precious works of art. In fact, there is where Cameron meets his true nature: That of the little girl in the painting who becomes less and less as you look closer. They proceed to lunch at a ritzy restaurant (sans reservations), a Chicago Cubs game, the world's tallest building, and Ferris even takes part in the annual German Day parade. All while avoiding Mr. Rooney (unbeknownst to Ferris and his buddies) and Ferris' dad (who just happened to eat at the same restaurant). Ferris even makes it back home in time before his parents.

Ferris also embodies the mystique of being a teenager in American today. Being not a child, but not yet an adult, is a frustrating conflict for many. Ferris and his friends 'play' adults; he even speaks in a cheesy English accent while chewing his ice. However, Ferris shows characteristics of being childlike. Indeed, Ferris even tells Cameron that he won't be his best friend anymore if he doesn't come and pick him up straightaway. Cameron responds with a simple, "You've been saying that since the third grade." In order to get out of school, Ferris feigns illness, another rather childish prank. But Ferris shows maturity and responsibility throughout the day as well. Ferris thinks to get his friends excused from school, a detail many would-be skippers could easily forget. Also, he proposes marraige to his girlfriend, Sloane Peterson. Although the proposal was not taken at face value and easily shot down, Ferris is commited to Sloane and wants to spend the rest of his life with her. He is afraid of what may happen next year when Sloane's still in high school and Ferris will be in his freshman year in college. He shows the maturity of being able to devote his entire life to one woman and really care about her.

Ferris is a prankster. He plays jokes. He gets his peers out of summer school. He changes his attendance record through his computer. He feigns illness. He takes his friends out of school. He makes a mockery of authority figures and the systems they represent. He has no moral connection whatsoever to these actions. However, Ferris' laid-back yet carpe-diem attitude is one that I am going to strive to emulate for the rest of my days.

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