May 1981

 

 

I was sitting on the edge of a public jacuzzi and this neighborhood kid who was 16 (I was 13) pointed at me and said, "You're a fat slob."  I don't remember arguing with him, but I do remember thinking, "He's right.  I'm fat.  I don't like it."  After that I cut out sugar, started doing pullups and situps, and ran every other day.  I lost 25 pounds in 2 months.  This kid was trying to hurt my feelings.  He simply made me a better person.  This was one of the first examples of pulling something positive from a negative experience.  But I'd be lying if I said my feeling were not hurt.  At the time, I tried to make the best of it.  Later, when I had grown a little and done a little more self introspection, I had some clarity and acknowledged the sadness this kid had caused me.  Not because I was fat, but because his goal was to harm me to make himself the center of attention.  Sad on all accounts.  And now, as I type this at 37 years old, I'm in the best shape of my life.  So, in the end, rather than looking him up and making him eat my fist, I owe him thanks...For the good health, and the lessons.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tidal Waves and The Jim Dawson Story...Coming Soon.

 

 

 

My freshman year in high school I was pinned 18 straight matches.  Every match of the season.  I had no experience and wrestled Varsity 119 pounds (I weighed 99 pounds).  The only reason I did not quit was because my coach, a horribly awful person to be working with kids at that time, told me I was worthless and should quit...And I wasn't a quitter.  2 years later, as a junior, I won the league championship in the 156 pound weight class 13-12 over a guy who beat me a month earlier.  Then I quit.  I have no pictures and no recollection of my parents attending a single match (aside from the first one in which I bled everywhere and my mother vowed to never attend another match again--At least she kept her word).

 

 

I graduated with a 2.3 GPA.  I didn't have a single teacher that made an impact on me in any positive way.  Actually, one teacher, Mr. Kuhta, was pretty cool.  But that's not important.  What is, is something said.  I don't know if he invented it or if he meant it to be significant, but it was to me.  He said, "Repition is power."  He's right.   My entire high school education boiled down into one phrase.  That's either incredibly efficient or awfully pathetic.  Inadvertantly, the horrible teachers somehow helped me succeed despite their inadequecies.  Thank God. 

 

 

I had no idea--I mean none--What I wanted to do with my life.  My mom told me she would kill me if I didn't go to college.  I enrolled in junior college.  I took a couple writing classes and some general education and did well.  I was performing better because I had matured and had a little more control over choices.  My mom told me that she would pay for any film school I could get into if I got the grades...Even USC.  I managed a 3.5 GPA.  I thought she was nuts for suggesting such an artsy-fartsy career as a writer or filmmaker so I told her I needed to get a "real" job...What that was, I had no clue.

 

 

 In high school, I didn't get anyone pregnant (despite my mom's pressure to 'screw anything that moves',--I didn't even try), drive drunk, crash my dad's car.  I was good kid.  I was honest.  In high school, that type of behavior doesn't fly.  Image is everything.  I was a little ahead of my time and wasn't willing to conform.  The rejection I experienced pissed me off.  I became resentful.  This resentment trickled into my first year of college.  I punched a few people.  I was good at it.  Then I started stealing anything that wasn't nailed down.  I was good at it, that is until I got caught for stealing a pair red Pony High-Tops from Sportmart.

 

 

 

Man, that went fast.  I transferred to the University of California at Irvine and graduated with 2.8 GPA in Social Ecology (which is essentially Psychology).  With Summer School, I only had to go to school for one class my last two tri-mesters.  Graduated in 4 years.  Me?  Degree?  Yep, me.  God knows what I learned.  Certainly more outside of the classroom than in it.  I learned a lot about people.  I had a lot of experiences.  Mostly with people outside school.  I learned how to learn.  I learned about myself.  I learned how to open my mind, which is the one remarkable difference that can often be seen when comparing those who've been to college and those who've have not.  Of course, this is an unproven generalization based on my personal experience.  It just seems like some people who haven't spent the time in college struggle a little more when it comes to alternative thinking and problem solving.  Certainly, anything is possible.  My senior was spent working at an elementary school.  It seems like I was good with children and teaching.  I still had no idea what I wanted to do.  I know I wanted to do something to help people, or impact people in some dramatic way.  Writing, filmmaking, & acting appealed to me, but I was still hung up on the "I gotta get a real job" thing.

 

 

 

I also got a job working at a police department with my girlfriend from college.  it was part time doing some traffic enforcement (directing, towing cars and issuing parking citations).  It was ugly at times.  People do not show their best sides wihen involved in a negative experience regarding their vehicle.  I'll leave it at that.