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Pulitzer Prizes for Good Intentions

Bill Long 4/7/08

A New Concept

The most famous scene in the Academy Award-winning 1954 movie On the Waterfront is in the back seat of a NY City cab where Terry Malloy, a washed-up boxer and low level union worker, and his older brother Charley, talk. Charley has a higher position in the Mob-controlled longshoremen's union; he has been told by the boss, Johnny Friendly, to tell Terry to accept a new assignment and to keep his mouth shut in the government-sponsored investigation of alleged Mob activity in the NY longshoremen's union. If Terry is unwilling to accept the new assignment, Charley is to take his brother to "437 River Street," a euphemism for killing him.

The stark reality of the brothers coming down to this kind of conversation evokes nostalgic thoughts in Terry. He thinks back to his boxing days, only a few years previously, where his own brother had sold him out so that the Mob bosses who had placed bets on the other fighter (Wilson) could win their bets. Terry knows he could have destroyed Wilson, but he was told by his brother to throw the fight for the sake of those above him. Terry complied. But then he learned that Wilson went on to get a title shot "outdoors in the ball park." Terry is inconsolable. It is not the memory of Wilson that dogs him; it is his brother's betrayal. His brother didn't even take care of him; he sold his soul to the Mob bosses to the detriment of Terry. In a pitiable lament, he wistfully says:

"Terry: You was my brother, Charley. You shoulda looked out for me a little bit. You shoulda taken care of me - just a little bit - so I wouldn't have to take them dives for the short-end money.
Charley: I had some bets down for you. You saw some money.
Terry (yelling, and heartbroken): You don't understand! I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am. Let's face it (pause) ...... It was you, Charley."

Back to Today

It really is a very moving scene, and it got me thinking--thinking about all those people whose life would have been different absent the intervention of another person, of fate or of their own choice. So, in response to this thought I have devised an award somewhat tongue-in-cheek, called the "Pulitizer Prize for Good Intentions," that I would like to award to a few categories of people. There awards will go to people who haven't yet done what they intended. My point, however, is that even the intention is commendable; indeed, since this is as far as many people ever get in life, we all ought to rise up in unison to applaud these peole of good intention.

My four categories are these: (1) The Pulitzer Prize for the Woman Who Has The Best Intention of Throwing Her Deadbeat Boyfriend Out of the House; (2) The Pulitzer Prize for the Man/Woman Who Has the Best Intention for Losing Weight; (3) The Pulitzer Prize for the Writer/Scholar with the Best Intention of Getting That Book Written; and (4) The Pulitzer Prize for the Person with the Best Intention of Taking Care of House Repairs; A word about each prize will explain them.

Throwing the Boyfriend Out

You know the type of woman, indeed you might be this type of woman. It is the woman who is married to or in a close relationship with a guy who, face it, is a slug. He lets the woman do all the work and doesn't even bring in his share of the income to run the place. He probably knows how to recognize and exploit such a woman. This kind of woman is long-suffering, so long-suffering in fact that she can't bring herself to evict him. She cedes all control of finances, of the security of the apartment/home to him; she would like for him to leave, but he just won't "take a hint." She is getting desperate and may have to hurt herself in order to try to get his attention so that he will realize how much he is torturing her but, of course, he will even ignore her tortured acts to get recognition. What this woman needs is not counseling--but an award. She needs to be in lights, with flowing evening gowns, and tux-clad hosts handing out trophies and other kudos. Finalists would be those who have the most wrenching stories of their intentions to, but inability to, evict the boyfriend. The runner-ups in this category will be hired by the local community college to team-teach a class on co-dependent behavior.

The Guy/Gal Who Just Hasn't Quite Lost the Weight Yet

The competition for this award will be fierce indeed. The fact that every check-out counter in America is festooned with magazines giving advice on "easy" ways to lose weight indicates that the problem of dropping the adipose tissue weights heavily on Americans. I think I saw the height of folly with respect to weight loss in my home town a few years ago. It was the hottest day of the year--about 102 degrees. No one was outside as I walked a mile in a tree-shaded park from my office to home. While walking through the park, I espied a portly man, clad in heavy sweats, with several towels around his neck, running through the middle of a sun-drenched field. I realized what he was doing--he was going to lose all the weight in one afternoon. But he was messing with nature; what takes you a week to put on takes you three weeks to take off. How can you take off in one day what it took you a decade to add?

So you see the lengths to which some will go in their (often vain) attempt to lose weight. I know a person who told me with great seriousness of his plan to lose weight; the only thing is that he was downing a multi-gram-of-fat brownie while narrating his intention. This award, then, would go to the person who has the most compelling story of how s/he has long intended to lose weight but gets sidetracked every time. We would certainly be exposed here to some memorable examples of weak human will.

The Writer/Scholar Who Cannot Finish The Book

A few years ago I ran into a former teaching colleague, about 30 years my senior. He had retired from teaching around 1990. When I asked him what he had been doing in the 15 years between retirement and when I ran into him, he said, "Writing my memoirs." I asked him when they were about to be released, but he cagily refused to answer. His situation isn't unique. In great excitement a colleague told me last summer that her book would be released in September. It was her first book in nine years, and so she was gung-ho on finishing it. I called her office in March, six months after projected release-date. Oops. No plans to finish the book anytime soon.

These are two possible candidates for the writer-who-cannot -finish-the-book award. We would have to develop strict criteria for this award--such as for how long they have been dithering over the manuscript, what excuses have made them unable to complete it, how many dogs had eaten their manuscripts, etc. etc. Such an award would carry with it not only a trophy but also a paid sabbatical for one year--so that the person would either have to produce or be tortured to near suicide with their continuing sloth.

House-Repair Delay Award

A final award would go to the person who has put off the most necessary and desirable home repairs. Candidate for this award would be numerous, and might be solicited after a drive through any city/suburb in America. We would compile a list of criteria for this award, but pictures of falling-down houses, dilapidated roofs, broken windows and other signs of dishevelment and disrepair would be part of the pre-award video. This award would not be given to the person with the dirtiest room; we are playing for much higher stakes here.

Giving these awards would add a hugely attractive dimension to our other awards shows. It would illustrate that you really don't have to do anything to win an award--just sit around and let life overwhelm you. Sometimes I think we could all use such recognition...

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