Hector the Collector

I don’t even remember how it started…I was reminiscing the other day about kids I went to school with.  Some moved away, others stayed and we graduated high school together. Some I remember vividly, others not so much.  Back in those days (which I imagine is STILL the case) there was the “in-crowd” (usually the “haves”), and then there were those who were definitely “out” (the “have-nots”) and then there were those who were somewhere in the middle (the truth is that they were probably “have-nots” who were just on the fringe and desperately wanted to be in the “in-crowd”).

It was a relatively new time—the 70’s and 80’s.  The 60’s made it “far out” to be on the fringe of society but by the late 70’s and early 80’s in Midwestern America too far out was no longer cool.  Within each social classification there were any number of sub-groups (now made famous by Ferris Bueller’s high school secretary [played by Edie McClure] when she said [speaking of Ferris]): “The sportos, the motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, waistoids, dweebies, d*ckheads - they all adore him. They think he's a righteous dude.”

Hollywood was quick to take advantage of our “coming of age” with movies like” Pretty in Pink, The Breakfast Club, the aforementioned Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Risky Business, St Elmo’s Fire, Dirty Dancing, and the list goes on…

There is a single theme in all of this…people who “belong,” people who “don’t belong,” and people who either desperately want to belong or desperately don’t want to belong.

I can remember those years in Jr. Hi and High school…the faces of those who never really seemed to “fit” anywhere (I seemed to remember thinking I was one of them). I remember those who had no trouble fitting in anywhere (they usually had the best cars, and the nicest clothes, and somehow always had money to spend even though they didn’t work??).  Then there were some people who just seemed plain invisible…almost forgettable, like you could see them every single day in the hallway but never speak to them and find it hard to recall what they looked like (which is pretty odd because I came from a VERY small town with a high school where everybody knew everybody else). As I take a stroll down memory lane…I wonder where they are today?

I LOVE the closing scene of The Breakfast Club…as Bender walks across the football field with his back to the camera, his boots unlaced, and his un-kept hair and appearance disappearing from the frame…he stands with knees locked and raises his right hand, fist clenched, in defiance of the social paradigms and classifications…I loved it, it was perfect, not only the perfect ending to the movie but to what seemed like an endless but completely unnecessary struggle. Today, they are gathering in our nation’s capital, and people all over the U.S. are remembering another perfect moment…the 50th anniversary of MLK’s “I Have a Dream" speech—while certainly more “historic” than Bender’s defiant gesture—both evoke the same type of emotion in me. And now…nearing 50 I wonder…

When my wife and I were first married 25 years ago I bought her a present…a book (I know… "how romantic”)—but at the time she was teaching children and loved the author (she had no idea that the author was already famous for writing songs and drawing cartoons for Playboy magazine…but I did) I too grew to love the children’s books and I have learned much from him. Shel Silverstein died in 1990—perhaps completely underrated for his contributions and understandings of culture.  His poem “Hector the Collector” from Where the Sidewalk Ends, remains a favorite. It is a simple poem about a boy who collects things…usually things that others find no value in (they “called it junk”), but Hector cherishes these things and “loved these things with all his soul.” In fact, Silverstein writes, he “loved them more than shining diamonds, loved them more than glistenin’ gold.” 

As I reflect on Hector, my past, my future, where I am now and what I do I am reminded that with age comes, at least some, wisdom, and maturity (I hope). I wonder where they are now…’cause I want to tell them something. I have learned that God collects broken things…things that others think of as junk, people that have been cast away by society, people who are “invisible” to others and who won’t matter their whole lives (or even in death).  I know that now…because I am one of those people. I am Jackson Brown’s Pretender who “started out so young and strong only to begin and end there.”

Rich or poor, well known or nobody important…we share a commonality…we are broken…broken by what the bible calls sin…the poor choices in our lives. I am thankful today that God, like Hector, loves us more than diamonds or gold and was not content to leave me broken…how you say?  “What can make me whole again…nothing but the blood of Jesus.”

I believe…help me in my unbelief.