That Napoleon Dynamite Moment

A Cool Thing to Witness

If you’ve seen the movie, you may already know the sequence I’m referring to. I’m talking about the talent show scene. That clichéd moment when the nobody that everybody expects nothing from does something wonderful or unexpected. And after a brief, awkward silence when you’re thinking to yourself, “Uh oh, which way is this gonna go?” the room erupts into applause. It’s that feel-good cheese that the entertainment industry loves to feed us at regular intervals.

Have you ever seen such a moment in person? Well, I have and it was pretty cool to say the least! When I saw the movie I couldn’t help but think back to this particular event. That internal association I have between the two is why I will always think of that type of scene as a “Napoleon Dynamite Moment”. It’s an event I often think back on when I need a smile, when life is such that I could really use a reminder that incredible, completely unexpected things do in fact happen all around us. I think it’s a great story and I’ll share it here. It’s actually very similar to the one in the movie and happened about 7 or 8 years before the film’s release, when I was in high school.

A Dark Time…

Ugh, high school… I hated high school. What a miserable time, and junior high wasn’t much better. I certainly could have made better choices during that period of my life that would likely have improved my experience, but would have had zero effect on one overriding aspect of adolescence; teenagers can be terrible human beings! Of course it wasn’t all bad, there were some good times and some good people. And as I said, I am not entirely blameless for the crappy time I had. But why is it so necessary for a group of “individuals” to place so much importance on an identity based solely on what “group” they belong to, even to the exclusion and harassment of others?

I have always loved video games, which only recently has achieved a tentative measure of broad acceptance. And as an adolescent I also played the cello in the school orchestra, joined the chess club, and could often be seen playing Magic: The Gathering in the hallways at lunch time. These things are much cooler now than they used to be, trust me. Along with other, more personal challenges I faced at the time (which I won’t be getting into here) I was also not very outgoing. I had my fair share of bullies and ridicule, and eventually dropped out.

Again I stress, my decisions are completely my responsibility. While there was much unpleasantness visited upon me by others that did not help matters, I’m not here to claim that my choices were somehow not my fault. I only bring this up to convey that I can, to a certain extent, relate to the protagonist of this real-life, actual “Napoleon Dynamite Moment”.

A Day I’ll Remember… Mostly…

Just like in the movie, this takes place at a high school talent show. There was a wide range of spectacle to behold, from the student who performed “stand-up” by regurgitating a recent Mad TV monologue word for word (the one where Craig Anton hates Hootie but loves the Blowfish, thanks Google!) to the one who performed an impressive flaming baton routine that comes from whichever island his family originated from (some of the details may be fuzzy, but you get the idea).

I still shake my head over the 3 or 4 garage bands that took the stage nearly back to back to play the exact same U2 songs that the bulk of the student body was currently obsessed with. Really, people?! At no point during registration or rehearsal did it occur to anyone involved to make some changes to the program in an attempt to avoid such repetition?! Apparently not, since I seemed to be the only one in the audience reluctant to get to my feet for the fourth rendition of “Where the Streets Have No Name” performed by yet another group of kids less than an hour from the time that the first group did it…

Then It Happened…

I had seen him in the halls on many occasions, and always alone. Not once did I observe him exchanging words with another person. And shame on me for also not offering a handshake and a smile to someone who might have welcomed it! I always remembered seeing him in overalls, as if his entire wardrobe was made up of hand-me-downs from his dad’s mechanic job or something similar. And he wore those thick, yellow-tinted glasses I will forever associate with shop teachers. I try not to judge and I know jumping to conclusions is ill-advised, but he certainly seemed to not have a friend in the world. I honestly hope that wasn’t the case.

I can’t remember if it was the final act or the second to last, older memories can be hazy. It was certainly the highlight for me so I choose to remember it as the finale. This young man whose name I didn’t recognize took the stage holding only an acoustic guitar and a folding chair. If I was a betting man I’d wager that no one else recognized his name either, but like me, all recognized him on sight. I actually still can’t remember his name, which is sad given that I’ll never forget what he did that afternoon…

He sat down and began to play and sing “Early Morning Rain” by Gordon Lightfoot. While already a fan of some of Mr. Lightfoot’s work, I had never heard this song before. And I’d wager it was not a popular tune with this crowd, mostly because it was not a U2 song titled, “Where the Streets Have No Name” (based on my observations of the previous portion of the show). His guitar play was flawless and he sang better than the man who wrote it (but not by much, I mean he is Gordon Lightfoot after all). And when he was done, silence hung over the auditorium. Just as in countless movies there was that moment of quiet, just long enough to allow you to wonder what might happen, before the entire student body exploded into one of the best standing ovations I have ever witnessed with my own eyes and ears. This young man whom I had never seen even converse with another human being was the clear hero of the day.

Where’s Our Moment?

Where is my talent show stage? Where do I stand, a nobody, in front of a crowd that has no real reason to expect anything impressive from me? The crowd part I have figured out. While I have always had loved ones who believed in me, I am (or at least was) the crowd that expected nothing from this “nobody”.

If I could go back and sit down with younger me, would he be impressed? Or would he at least be hopeful? Would I tell him that I know it sucks, this dark time he’s in? Would I tell him that I understand that he feels so lost, like he’ll never find his way? Would I tell him that it was about to get much, much worse? Would I tell him that he would make decisions that hurt others, that he would later cringe about upon reflection? Would I tell him that he would suffer such a great loss that he would feel like he may never laugh again? Would I tell him that he would be betrayed by someone that he was only trying to help, and would spend years repaying the debt incurred and repairing his credit?

Would I tell him that, as a high school dropout with only a GED, he would be hired to a salary position typically only offered to those with a civil engineering degree? Would I tell him that not only would he do well, but that he would be the one to train others in that position who did have that degree? Would I tell him that he would be well on his way to be a project manager by his mid-30s, and travel across the country and even overseas for work? Would I tell him that he would be surrounded by people who trust his judgment and value his opinion? Would I tell him that he would be respected, despite his fondness of the same nerdy things that had previously made him such an easy target?

Would I tell him that he would one day have a nice home that was his to do with as he pleased, even though he was often not there? Would I tell him that he would be loved? Would I tell him that the most wonderful, beautiful woman he would ever meet would actually choose to share her life with him, to be his wife? Would I tell him that he would one day be able to look in the mirror and like what he saw, that he would be genuinely happy with who he had become? Would I tell him that, while it would never be easy and there would always be challenges, he would enjoy his life?

Would I tell him it will get better…?

”I’m not gonna to lie to you, it’ll get weird and it’ll get rough, real rough. Keep your head down and don’t give up. Just wait for the next act, you’re gonna love it! You won’t believe where this thing is going!”

Maybe It’s Already Happened

Maybe it’s still happening. Wasn’t it William Shakespeare who wrote, “All the world’s a stage…”? If that’s so, then I’ve also been in the audience this whole time. I’ve been dejected, witness to the train wreck that my “talent show” has been. And I’ve watched in fascination as it turned around and did indeed get better, much better. If it is truly one’s own approval that is the most important, over that of others, then I will gladly and proudly receive the standing ovation from my audience of one. And though it’s not sudden or flashy, I will enjoy my own personal “Napoleon Dynamite Moment”.

Thanks for reading! I never really know where these things are going to go. I start with a thought, an idea I’d like to share, and it usually takes off in a direction I hadn’t planned. I promise to return to the more nerd-focused content that usually appears here soon enough.

Play nice, everyone!