The Wee Democracy

gutmania

there is a man, a certain man, who's name and face and gut is known across the land.

i'm usually not the poem or singing type, but for some reason, citizen kane pops into my head when i think of paul gutman. not that he's even remotely cold or money hungry or an empty shell of a man due to the childhood loss of his sled, or more accurately, his yarmulke.

aside from citizen kane, i also think of moms when i think of gutman, as you see, he had a nice one. a very nice one, who bought me subway one time, and forced a subway cookie on me. and at the state tournament, let me set in her little stadium seat to save my posture. it was awesome.

the first time i remember actually meeting gutman was freshman year, when i was briefly a participating member of the wrestling team. what i can say about gutman then, and now, was that he was nice. i mean, you have no idea how many people on the wrestling team became such assholes under the whole "cutting weight" subterfuge. but not gutman.

gutman was/is one of those eternally kind people. the kind you figure has just been a good guy his whole life, and around whom you can't help but feel like you're in good company. when you're 14 and pudgy but you still only weigh like a buck-oh-five, people aren't always nice to you. gutman was.

and i guess that's what makes him worth blogging about. here's a guy that wrestled, that did excellent in high school, went to an exceptional college, and an equally exceptional law school, and yet, seems to retain an empathy that people should aspire too. there is no impatience, no arrogance, no pretense. there's just gutman. and THAT'S something.

be like the gut.



feeling: as though the strength is bubbling and won't remain hidden for long
thinking of: michigan
song of the day: who needs the kwik-e-mart - apu feat. the simpsons
let's hurl a brick-e-mart!