Chapter 1.990
040106
1101 Hours
Well, I’m signed up for the movie contest at BSU. My creative side is coming back to me. With the whole election process taking (surprisingly) not very much of my time, I’ve had visions of Hollywood more and more lately. I can’t really explain that but, I’m going to run with it. I don’t want the fame that comes along with it, just the satisfaction that my work could possibly entertain or inspire someone. My creative outlet will no longer be ignored like a red-headed step child! No offense, red-headed step children. I just couldn’t think of anything clever at the time.
Did you know you could by Boyz II Men’s “Coolyhighharmony” for $1.97 on ebay? And if you don’t know, now you know!
But anyway, where was I with my life story? Hmm…
Now that I think back to those days, I realize that I wasted so much time being a lazier than average kid. I could have learned to be a craftsman by watching Grandpa Shorty. He could turn a stick into a beautiful, shiny cane for my Grandma Maggie or a large board and a couple of screws into a door for his cousin in a matter of minutes. I blame “Sesame Street” and “Electric Company” for the lack of attention I gave my grandpa. Curse you, Public Television! Curse you to heck!
Baseball and working with his tools and boards was all I’d ever seen this man do. But like every other hard working man, he loved him some brews. It’s your God given American right to enjoy a frosty one after a long days work, right? (This wasn’t the first time I had been witness to alcohol consumption. I was born on the Southside of the M-P-L-S, baby! I had seen it all by the time I came up to the woods [there's a rap song in there somewhere; Growin' up in da woods…I just made that up!] well, not really. I just thought it would sound cooler.) You know they say the “Real” you comes out when you’re drunk; and this man couldn’t have been any nicer. The only time I had made him made was when I was trying to be funny and tried to steal his smokes out of his pocket while he was sitting at the table, pick-pocket style. Well, I thought I had committed the crime of the decade when his hand reached back, caught my hand, he pulled me to the table, told me to sit down. He asked what I was doing, I told him I was trying to be funny. He grabbed a smoke from his pack that I thought I had successfully taken, lit it up and said, “You think you can be cool smoking these?” From there, guess who had his first (and last) cigarette of his life? Maybe that’s why I don’t smoke now. Who knows? It was a tough lesson to learn, but learned nonetheless. Point taken, Grandpa Shorty. Point taken.
1101 Hours
Well, I’m signed up for the movie contest at BSU. My creative side is coming back to me. With the whole election process taking (surprisingly) not very much of my time, I’ve had visions of Hollywood more and more lately. I can’t really explain that but, I’m going to run with it. I don’t want the fame that comes along with it, just the satisfaction that my work could possibly entertain or inspire someone. My creative outlet will no longer be ignored like a red-headed step child! No offense, red-headed step children. I just couldn’t think of anything clever at the time.
Did you know you could by Boyz II Men’s “Coolyhighharmony” for $1.97 on ebay? And if you don’t know, now you know!
But anyway, where was I with my life story? Hmm…
Now that I think back to those days, I realize that I wasted so much time being a lazier than average kid. I could have learned to be a craftsman by watching Grandpa Shorty. He could turn a stick into a beautiful, shiny cane for my Grandma Maggie or a large board and a couple of screws into a door for his cousin in a matter of minutes. I blame “Sesame Street” and “Electric Company” for the lack of attention I gave my grandpa. Curse you, Public Television! Curse you to heck!
Baseball and working with his tools and boards was all I’d ever seen this man do. But like every other hard working man, he loved him some brews. It’s your God given American right to enjoy a frosty one after a long days work, right? (This wasn’t the first time I had been witness to alcohol consumption. I was born on the Southside of the M-P-L-S, baby! I had seen it all by the time I came up to the woods [there's a rap song in there somewhere; Growin' up in da woods…I just made that up!] well, not really. I just thought it would sound cooler.) You know they say the “Real” you comes out when you’re drunk; and this man couldn’t have been any nicer. The only time I had made him made was when I was trying to be funny and tried to steal his smokes out of his pocket while he was sitting at the table, pick-pocket style. Well, I thought I had committed the crime of the decade when his hand reached back, caught my hand, he pulled me to the table, told me to sit down. He asked what I was doing, I told him I was trying to be funny. He grabbed a smoke from his pack that I thought I had successfully taken, lit it up and said, “You think you can be cool smoking these?” From there, guess who had his first (and last) cigarette of his life? Maybe that’s why I don’t smoke now. Who knows? It was a tough lesson to learn, but learned nonetheless. Point taken, Grandpa Shorty. Point taken.
posted by Jonny R. at 11:40 AM
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