Keller Student Makes Becoming Perfect His New Year’s Resolution

Keller Student Makes Becoming Perfect His New Years Resolution

Ben Wiche, Staff Writer


Never again will people be able to say that millennials are lazy, that they have no gumption, no grit. Those whiny seniors who complain about this generation have clearly never met a local man, nay, a local hero. Nay, a local legend!

His name is Ronny Schmidt. A week ago Ronny had a revelation.

“I realized that if I’m not giving 100 percent in every aspect of my life then there’s no point in living,” Ronnie said. “So I decided, instead of giving up sweets or studying harder for the new year, I decided to become perfect.”

I went to meet with Ronny at his house and just happened to walk in on him mid-workout.

“It’s alright man. When you work out everyday, you become able to shift your attention,” the brave soul claimed.

After the workout and a quick shower, Ronny and I hit the road. You see, Ronnie had a job to do.

“I work as an exterminator’s assistants Mondays and Wednesdays,” he said.

Perish the thought! A person of our generation juggling school, healthy eating and a part time job!

“Hey, man, could you drive?” Ronnie asked as he got in the car. “I’ve gotta study for an AP test.”

I was flabbergasted with orgasmic dexterity as I realized the levels of Ronnie’s dedication to perfection.

“It’s Chem, and it’s really tough, so I gotta study every opportunity I get.” he said. “I don’t take too many AP classes, but I wanna get perfect grades in the ones I take.”

We drive to the exterminator. Ronnie gets out.

Of course not everyone understands perfection.

“I really do wish he’d stop it,” Ronnie’s WEAK-WILLED mother said over the phone. “I don’t think it’s good for teens to feel like they need to achieve everything and anything they can do. Kids should be able to mess up, try their best, but maybe take things slow for a while. Anyway, I’ll always love him, perfect or not.”

I hung up with her after that. “Mess up” and “Take things slow.” These are phrases used by a spineless generation of rabble-rouser, not of a true American hero like Ronnie Schmidt.

About six hours later Ronnie came back to the car.

“Start driving, man; c’mon.”

I asked him where we were going.

“To Baskin-Robbins, man; where else? My second job!” he said.

A second job, how exciti-

”Stop writing man, we’ve got five minutes,” he said.

We sped off. I noticed that Ronnie was holding a new book.

“It’s Bio man; I’ve got a bio test, too. AP Bio, Chem, Physics, and Calc AB are on odd days. AP Lit, Stat, and APEs are on even. I’ve gotta study every free moment I have. Otherwise I won’t get into the Ivy Leagues,” he said.

I asked him if he meant a specific Ivy League.

“No, stupid. All of them. I have to be accepted into all of them or else all my hard work will be for nothing, gosh,” he said.

Noticing that he hadn’t eaten in a few hours, I asked Ronnie what he planned to have for dinner.

“Nothing. All foods have sugar, fat or cholesterol, which decrease brain power while increasing laziness. All I need to live is water and air. We’re here.” he said.

He jumped out of the car. While he was talking to me he must have changed out of his jumpsuit and into an ice cream man uniform.

“Here, look at my hands. Any poison on them, cyanide, agent orange, ’cause I don’t wanna poison any kids and I much less want to get fire-”

His watch beeped. “Shoot, I’m late! Gotta blast!”

He ran away.