we are all forevermore in high school

doesn’t matter what you do. doesn’t matter where you live. people are people and people are high schoolers. through and through. this is the key to the cult popularity of napoleon dynamite, and why I myself adore it. also rushmore (different socio-economic bracket). we don’t ever grow up, silly goose! what were you thinking? maturity? responsibility? well, okay, yeah, so some of us hold jobs, raise kids, balance checkbooks. I know I’m hardly the authority on worldly progress. but I’ve seen how those people behave too. we are all of us high schoolers, for goodness sakes. take my word for it. that mom backstage at the church choral production herding those madcap three-year-olds– she’s the insecure bossy girl who never has the right hair accesories. that marketing manager? she’s the niblet with the four thousand boyfriends and the hot car. that sales guy? he’s a hockey player, I don’t care if he hasn’t strapped on skates in years. and that vivacious guy with the awesome wardrobe and the killer sense of humor? he’s that closeted loser who took art or never came out of the band room. just get us together in one place, trying to work together or at least coexist, and the truth will be made clear unto you. life is high school. we never graduate, not really. and god help the teachers.

I’m sorry for the cynicism, but you know it’s entirely age-appropriate.

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