Supko and His Insurance Buddy

When I think about "Not My Kid," my thoughts are never far away from the time my high school health teacher, Mr. Jay Supko (below we see him pondering new and innovative teaching strategies). Supko brought in an insurance agent to talk to us about the dangers of drunk driving. The insurance agent started his talk by reviewing all the ways that we might drunk.

"You take that shot of whiskey and it BURNS all the way down! [bending at the knees, pinched face, acting it out a bit] Or you drink that cold beer on a hot day, and it's just sooooo nice and refreshing. Or maybe wine." I remember wine got short shrift. I don't think he was a big wine drinker, but he felt like he had to include it.

Krista reminded me of Ben Stiller's brilliant "Magic Key for the Magic Boy" speech on the Ben Stiller Show. It was very much like that at first. But then the insurance agent said, "Let me tell you what's going to happen if you drink and drive."

Death? Paralysis? Disfigurement?

He said, "Your insurance premiums will skyrocket...by at least 100% during the first year after your citation. Plus, you probably won't be able to switch insurance because other companies won't want you. And do you want to talk about court fees?" And that sort of thing. Meanwhile, we had just got our licenses and didn't give a shit about insurance.

My guess is that Supko and this guy occasionally went out drinking together, and this guy--let's call him Buck--Buck said to Supko late one night at the bar. "Jay, I bet I could reach those kids. I know you got a fancy teaching degree and all that. But I'm going to be real with them. That's what they want. Somebody who will talk on their level. I'm going to tell them what I wish somebody had told me before I got my first DUI.

"You know what, Jay? I am going into that classroom. But it's not 1988. It's 1978. And I'm going in there to talk to Buck when he was seventeen years old. When he had dreams! When he was going to do big things. Before that night when everything turned around for old Bucky."

Supko wipes his beer-soaked mustache on the shoulder of his sweater vest and replies, "I can dig it, man." But he's really thinking, "That could kill 15 minutes...maybe even a half hour."