'Give Pete a medal'

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Rip Rense writes an appreciation of his neighbor Pete, a third-grade teacher who still likes his job but who needs to rant.

He leaves his West L.A. home every morning at 6 sharp, dressed nattily in tweed coat, bright tie, and Ascot cap. Hops in late model two-door, beats gridlock to work. Home at 4 sharp, he heads up the street to his favorite Chinese joint for an early dinner, walks back, grades papers, and hits the sack early.

The next day, he gets up and does it all over again.

Every time I hear Pete's door shut in the morning, I think to myself, "give that guy a medal." He's taught for over twenty years in the LAUSD---second, third, fifth, and sixth grades---the first six in South L.A., and the rest in Crenshaw.

Then, as I hear his feet heading downstairs, I think to myself: "Nah---nobody cares."

It's the Wednesday extra on The Rip Post.

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