Today, I found myself looking at some old yearbooks. At first, it was a distraction from the scrapbooking projects I’ve put off for a while. Looking through the pictures I realized how camera shy my younger self was to the class. It was to the point I was feeling like an outsider to my class. That was until I got to the very end of the album. In my mind, I thought most were avoiding me at the end, but it came to a surprise when I saw all the notes and letters written to me. Complimenting me on my talent, but also another feature of mine I thought was lost at that time. Line after line I read as others thought of me as caring and watching over them like a big brother. Thinking of others before myself, to the point they encouraged me to start taking care of myself. It’s funny how we view ourselves differently as time goes by… I was quite certain most people thought of me as a bother and spewing complaints. It was refreshing to see others thought so highly of me at one point. So, I encourage you to take a step back and find the positive in yourself… and in the event you cannot find it… ask a friend or loved one to show you the way.
Tag: school
Family Storytime: Naked Cheeseburger Boy and Root Beer Snot
Back in the years of elementary school, my family used to go to fast food more often. You know, back when it was cheaper. To age myself, when there were actually items costing only a dollar. While hanging with my cousin, best friend, maybe my brother, and other childhood friends, my dad offered to take us there. We drive up to the menu and my dad turns back to ask what we want. Completely serious, my best friend asked for a cheeseburger without cheese. We started cracking up.
I say between laughs, “You mean a hamburger?”
My friend looked at me, then my dad, and simply said, “Yes.”
He realized what he’d said and was just trying to smooth it over.
Fast forward to sitting down and eating our stuff. My best friend starts making fun of some of our friend’s meals. I suspect to make his little incident less silly.
My dad shot back, Sure, Naked Cheeseburger Boy.”
We all lost ourselves in laughter… my cousin so much so his root beer came shooting out of his nose.
My dad turned on him and declared, “And Root Beer Snot is here to join you.”
We were all on the ground from the laughter. He gave names to the others, but I don’t remember them. (No, I didn’t get one. I was boring as a kid and only ordered chicken nuggets and French fries.) However, the legend of Naked Cheeseburger Boy and Root Beer Snot live on… the story surfacing every so often to give us a laugh.
School Storytime: Woodn’t That Hurt?
I was a theater kid in high school if I hadn’t said this before. Now, we possessed a small budget, which meant we needed to save money wherever possible. One way was to recycle old set pieces, using bits of it over and over again. This we stored in a closet. During my senior year, I noticed how disorganized it became over the years. Either I decided to take on the task to get my mind off things or I was assigned to it… I don’t remember. Whatever the reason it, I should’ve thought twice before agreeing. It. Took. Forever. To make things worse, it was very heavy. By the end of it I was sweating like a pig and sore beyond belief. Literally laid on the floor for a good twenty minutes to restore my energy. By the end of it, it was organized by size and easy to access. I was pretty proud of my work.
Closing night came for our musical and we were breaking down the set. They needed my height to help with it. I noticed groups bringing wood to the closet. Without a second thought, I reminded them I’d organized it and to please keep it that way. They agreed, but a feeling lingered in my stomach… So, once I was no longer needed, I went to check on it. Turning the corner, a clear yell erupted from my throat. Instead of my finely kept project, I was greeted with a wooden pile of chaos. My noise was so loud my stage manager across the way asked if I was ok. He at the time was putting away and organizing the props. Striding across the stage, his mouth dropped seeing the dilemma. He’d seen the finished product and said he’d talk to everyone later. Back to his spot, I tried to adjust a few pieces… and heard a bit of tumbling and creaking. I knew what was about to happen… crossed my arms and braced myself while the pile of wood crashed down on me. For a second, I just laid there… grumbling and growling from the pain. A friend of mine found me, yelling for others to help me. After a few pieces were removed, I shook off the rest while crawling out. I shot the group a look and walked away. I could hear some yelling at them, but I didn’t care at that point. Spent the rest of the time venting to my stage manager. On the positive side, I wasn’t required to do anything else for the rest of the night. It was a shame since it was the musical for my senior year. Left me with a bitter taste in my mouth… or was that just a mouthful of splinters? In all seriousness, I was fine by the end of it. No injuries to speak of that night. I wish there was a picture, because I guarantee it looked really funny with me under the pile.
School Storytime: A Smell
While in high school, I befriended many people in the marching band. (A shocker I know) So, almost every Friday I went to the games while it was in season. This particular night I went with a friend of mine. We didn’t possess any money at the time, and it cost a little bit to attend the game. Usually, we stayed after school to avoid this obstacle. However, I was sure there was some money in my room at home. We went to my house and gamed for a couple hours before leaving. My mom was nice enough to drop us off and agreed to pick us up later. My friend and I walked up to the gate, and I looked in my wallet… empty. Well, that’s a problem. We can’t go in through the school because it’s locked at this time of night.
As I’m wracking my brain on how to slip in, my friend suggests an idea. The back way around was never monitored. I mention a concern about how sketchy people seem to hang around there. He assured me it would be fine. We made our way around and are greeted with smoke. Several individuals were doing so as we passed by. We tried not to look at anyone between some make out sessions and the others. Finally passing through, my friend and I looked at each other and shook our heads. Almost at the same time we both said, “Never again.” Remarking, afterwards at how someone back there must of angered a skunk for the smell was awful.
The game went on normal enough. A few looks here and there. Later in the night, we noticed the cops blocked off the passage we originally entered. We didn’t think much about it. Figured they caught some of the underaged smokers back there. Towards the end of the night, one of the officers came towards us. Asking if we went into the roped off area. We told the truth and he seemed satisfied with the answer. The rest of the night was uneventful; just a normal night of fun and our team lost again.
When it was time to leave, we crawled into my mom’s car. Immediately, she turned around, glared, and growled, “What were you doing?”
My friend and I were like deer caught in the headlights… looking at each other with baffled expressions. We both were calculating what we could’ve done to anger her so quickly.
“What do you mean Mom?” I asked
“The smell…”
“What smell?” My friend asked.
“You both know what smell. It’s so distinctive.” She snapped.
“Is it a skunk smell? We smelt it earlier, but we didn’t think it sprayed us. Quick pull over and we cant put a coat underneath us.” I said hurriedly.
She pulled over, turned around, and said, “No! Boys you smell like weed!”
Click. Soooooo many things made sense from our night.
My friend was the first to say, “I swear we didn’t.” Following this up by explaining our night to her… including the part of avoiding entry payment. I, being the savvy health student, pointed out some facts.
“Our eyes aren’t bloodshot right? And isn’t hard to be coherent while under that influence? If we were high, there’s no way we could hide that.”
She looked at both of us and figured we told the truth. Commenting afterwards, if we needed the money to enter we could always ask her and not to take the passage again. Not that we ever would after everything. Besides we couldn’t, the cops watched the area from then onwards. We breathed a sigh of relief from the whole ordeal… and we now knew the smell. As an adult writing this, I don’t know why we couldn’t smell it on us.
School Storytime: Blindfolded Roller-skating
When I was a senior in high school, I was lucky enough to play the male lead in our school musical… I heard that. The eye roll of a senior getting the male lead. What a shocker. A fair point I suppose given the general view of high school theater. I can assure you though my director didn’t possess this kind of bias. In previous years, they’d made a sophomore the lead. Anyways, in this musical I received the immense honor of tap dancing (something I’d never done before) and roller-skate blindfolded. The latter was the challenge. Of course, my eyes weren’t truly concealed. I could mostly see the stage… just the edge was the problem. Luckily, I never tipped off it. However… there was one injury which occurred.
So, in the show there is a scene where I must chase my love interest off stage. There were safety measures in place when I darted off. Three people were assigned to catch me as soon as I exited. Here we were practicing the same routine. On this particular day, I was asked to go faster than normal. I checked with the cast/director to make sure safety measures were in place. They assured me everything would be fine. Keeping in mind there were several close calls before I simply shrugged. Scene progresses as normal. Love interest exits and I dart off like a bullet. Through to doorway and I see… nothing. Not a single cast member in sight. You know what I did see? I terrified mini orchestra watching the comedy unfolding in front of them. (Granted they didn’t think that at the time. Genuinely concerned but might as well make a joke out of it) Here I went shoulder first into the wall making me twist into the prop bed… which I swear possessed a wicked sense of humor for the corner of it nailed me in the crotch. All of a sudden, I could hit soprano notes. I promptly keeled over that bed and tried to stop the spinning, pain, and blacking out. The first to get to me was the orchestra. They were quick to find aid and steady me. Next was my choir teacher who saw the whole thing happen from his office which was right next to backstage. He went to get ice packs while my director and my cast mates came behind her. Each made sure I was alright before my director called for all of them to meet onstage. Obviously, I was excused as I was still reeling from the event. I tried to listen in on the meeting… well it was more of a yelling. My director was furious the whole thing occurred. Telling them they were going to rerun the safety measures every time and it was one of the most important jobs they possessed to make the show work. Though maybe I’m remembering it wrong. I honestly was barely with it at the time and I’m pretty sure I took a cat nap. All I knew was afterwards they never forgot to catch me each time. On several occasions my choir teacher joined to catch the speeding me. Can’t blame the cast too much, I think. After all I was one of the taller people in the group. Who wants to try and stop an over 6-foot person whose roller-skating at full speed blindfolded?
KC J. Hutchins' Blog- A Journal of a Creative Creature 