Chris Colson

Everybody Knows Dave... Dave was bragging to his boss one day, "You know, I know everyone there is to know. Just name someone, anyone, and I know them." Tired of his boasting, his boss called his bluff, "OK, Dave, how about Tom Cruise?" "No dramas boss, Tom and I are old friends, and I can prove it." So Dave and his boss fly out to Hollywood and knock on Tom Cruise's door, and Tom Cruise shouts, "Dave! What's happening? Great to see you! Come on in for a beer!" Although impressed, Dave's boss is still sceptical. After they leave Cruise's house, he tells Dave that he thinks Dave's knowing Cruise was just lucky. "No, no, just name anyone else," Dave says. "Ex-President Obama," his boss quickly retorts. "Yup," Dave says, "Old buddies, let's fly out to Washington," and off they go. Obama spots Dave in Washington and motions him and his boss over, saying, "Dave, what a surprise, I was just on my way to a meeting, but you and your friend come on in and let's have a beer first and catch up." Well, the boss is very shaken by now, but still not totally convinced. After they leave Washington, he expresses his doubts to Dave, who again implores him to name anyone else. "Pope Francis," his boss replies. "Sure!" says Dave. "I've known the Pope for years." So off they fly to Rome. Dave and his boss are assembled with the masses at the Vatican's St. Peter's Square when Dave says, "This will never work. I can't catch the Pope's eye among all these people. Tell you what, I know all the guards, so let me just go upstairs and I'll come out on the balcony with the Pope." He disappears into the crowd, headed towards the Vatican. Sure enough, half an hour later, Dave emerges with the Pope on the balcony, but by the time Dave returns, he finds that his boss has had a heart attack and is surrounded by paramedics. Making his way to his boss's side, Dave asks him, "What happened?" His boss looks up and says, "It was the final straw... You and the Pope came out onto the balcony, and the man next to me said, 'Who the fuck is that on the balcony with Dave?'

Just thought it was kind to share this! 😭❤ I'm a substitute teacher. Different school every week. Kids never remember your name. You're just "the sub." Last year, I got assigned to a rough middle school. 8th grade English. The regular teacher left a note: "Good luck with Marcus. Sits in the back. Won't participate. Don't push it." First day, I spot Marcus immediately. Hood up, headphones in, head down on the desk. I didn't call him out. Just started class. Halfway through, I'm reading a poem about loneliness. I see his head lift slightly. He's listening. After class, everyone leaves. Marcus stays behind, packing slowly. "You actually like poetry?" I ask. He shrugs. "It's whatever." "That poem I read—Langston Hughes. You know his stuff?" "A little." He pauses. "My mom used to read it to me." "Used to?" "She died two years ago. Cancer." My heart sank. "I'm so sorry, Marcus." He shrugged again, but I could see his jaw tighten. "It's fine. Everyone says that." "What if instead of saying sorry, I just... brought more poems tomorrow? We could talk about them if you want." He didn't answer. Just walked out. But the next day, he came to class early. Sat in the front. No hood. No headphones. For the next two weeks (I extended my assignment), Marcus and I had this routine. After class, we'd spend 15 minutes talking about poetry, life, grief. He told me about his mom. How she worked two jobs but still made time to read to him every night. How the house felt empty without her voice. How his dad tried but didn't really know how to talk about feelings. "She'd want you to keep going," I said one day. "Keep reading. Keep feeling. That's how you keep her alive." On my last day, Marcus handed me a folded piece of paper. "I wrote something," he mumbled. "You don't have to read it now." I waited until I got to my car. Unfolded it. It was a poem. About his mom. About loss. About learning to breathe again. It was beautiful. Raw. Real. I drove back into the school. Found him in the hallway. "Marcus, this is incredible. Have you shown this to anyone?" "No. It's stupid." "It's not. It's powerful. You have a gift." He looked at me like I'd just told him he could fly. I helped him submit it to a youth poetry contest. Didn't tell him. Three months later, I got an email. Marcus won second place. $500 prize and publication in a national magazine. I texted his dad (got the number from the school). He called me crying. "He hasn't smiled in two years. He's smiling now." Sometimes all someone needs is to be seen. To be heard. To be told their pain matters. "I hope this story reminds you that good people still exist.

This Christian Elliss hit belongs on a coaching tape

‘Far Side’ Comic (November 24, 1986)