James Cameron:  

Try To Be Who You Are By James M. Cameron In this story I'll tell you about a part of my life in somewhat of a compact version, yet I believe you'll comprehend the full meaning of the affect this period in my life had on me. I'd like to thank Luther for his suggestion on the essay assignment sheet #1 which brought me to remember this time of my life. Before I could finish this essay such a nostalgic feeling came across me, I joined classmates.com as a gold card member. Within the next couple of weeks I will be trying again to make contact with many of the people that I spent these times with. At the end of my essay the suggestion I make is by no means a rule set in stone, it,s just one possible way to try to be who you are. Many personal experiences have had an effect on shaping who I am today, but I believe that one significant time in my life happened about thirtynine years ago. When I was fourteen. I wandered into one of the Broadway pizza parlors, the one right across from Kingston High School. I was on my way home from school and felt like a slice. I had this pizza one other time, and it was good stuff but almost nothing could compare to my mother's cooking. I no sooner took a few steps in there-and noticed one of the guys that runs the place was leaning back against the wall, sitting in a chair sleeping. It seemed that he might be there by himself so I decided I should wake him up. I said, "Hey mister, I don't think it's a very good idea sleeping in here like that, someone could come in and knock you on the head and take all the money. He sort of looked at me a little funny. Maybe he was thinking that was what I had in mind, but as quick as it seemed to bother him, I could see he let it go. He told me "You're right, it's probably not a good idea. I can't help it though because I don't get much sleep." Why's that?" I asked him. He said, "The owner is in the hospital because he got his hand caught in one of the dough machines a couple of days ago, and that leaves me alone to run the place." I asked him, "Why do you get so tired, your only open from ten-o-clock in the morning till eleven in the evening. How bad could that be?" He explained that he had to be there early mornings, like seven, eight o'clock to make the dough, and the sauce. Then of course you need to clean up and count the money after closing. It takes a lot more time running a business then most young people realize. All of a sudden a light bulb came on. I said, "All that work and only you to do it seems to me you could use a little help." He said, "Na I'll manage somehow," sort of putting me off "Say look" I said, "I don't care if you were to just pay me a buck or something just to sweep up while you lean back and catch some shuteye. I'd hate to hear that you got hurt or robbed or both." He seemed to give in a bit, possibly because of my honest concern, and said, "Leave me your phone number, maybe I'll give you a call. No promises though." "Just thinking about your safety." "Well thanks," he said. "And oh!" I said, "By the way, my name is Jim." "Alright Jim! I'm Mike," he said. "Nice talking to you Mike," I said. "Yea, nice talking to you" Mike answered. With that I left to head home. I got about two and a half blocks away from the place and remembered that I never did get that slice of pie. I was excited with a bit of high hopes, and wasn't worried about that slice of pizza now. I started thinking how waiting just might have paid off. Waiting for what, someone might say? Well when you turn twelve you can get a paper-route. Many of my friends and other guys I knew were being "The Paperboy." I never wanted to be "The Paperboy" I wanted a real job. My parents never pushed me into it because I was making money. The neighborhood elderly and others that weren't able, put me to work mowing their lawns and shoveling snow, and of course all those little odd jobs like cleaning windows, cleaning basements and attics and such. I would accept whatever they could afford to pay me. I was happy to be able to help them. They needed someone that could do these things for them since they were older and really couldn't do everything they needed. With that I had the neighborhood pretty well rapped up for that sort of work so I made out ok for myself. But now I got hopes of a real job. When I got home I told my Mom what had happened and she said, "Well you never know, maybe you'll get lucky." With that I went off to my room to play some records. Music usually put me in a good mood or helped to keep me in one. I already had high hopes; today the music just seemed to amplify them. Two days later on Thursday after I got home from school I found out Mike had called. I called him back, and he asked me if I wanted to come over Saturday morning and see what I might be able to help him do. This was great finally a real opportunity to work at a real job. I was very exited. I showed up at the pizza parlor a half hour ...Expand for more