MR. PALOWITZ, WE LOVE YOU!

Way back in 7th grade there was an art teacher of mine that really introduced me to the real world of kooks and odd balls. This was a crusty middle-aged man that was out of his element teaching 7th graders about art and philosophy of creativity. Mr. Palowitz was his name.

Mr. Palowitz was probably the reason I was inspired to enter the art field to begin with. He was my first experience with a bohemian attitude about life and the freedom of creativity and need to be free to express oneself. Although I never emulated his lifestyle, I often use it as a reminder to keep loose and not be afraid to speak or create what is on my mind.

The first thing about this man was his hair, which was falling out at an alarming rate, with dandruff showering out on art work as he leaned over to view each creation. This was complemented by his lack of a decent wardrobe, which consisted of a tweed jacket and knit tie that might not necessarily work together, but met the standard dress code for teachers that wanted to work.

Halfway through the school year Mr. Palowitz announced that we could no longer call him Mr. Palowitz, but instead must call him Mr. Paul. He had legally changed his name he said because he hated his old name! So Mr. Paul it was.

Mr. Paul. Or should I say the “New” Mr. Paul was a very honest man, very often making remarks about his wife and kids, or some teacher in another department, along with the physical traits of his victim for illustrative purposes. The one thing Mr. Paul hated was school. He once told the whole class that every morning, he would rise from his bed, go to the top of the stairs and yell down: “I hate school!” At Christmas time, Mr. Paul would take his kids to Abraham and Strauss, a store that sold all kinds of things, allow his kids to play with the toys, and leave without buying anything! Yes, Mr. Paul was a cheap old bastard.

The final thing that left an indelible impression on my young mind was the sight of Mr. Paul standing in front of the class with his tie cut in half! “What happened?” we asked, and were told that he was leaning over the paper cutter to cut some paper and his tie was under the blade, and he didn’t realize it. He said he refused to take off the cut tie because of the silly rule about wearing ties that teachers had to obey!