Storytelling

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The Token Guitar Guy who Thinks He’s Cool Because He Can Play “Tears in Heaven” by Eric Clapton

One in every ten guitar players is a “cool guitar guy”. That’s a guitar player who uses his musical abilities as a social crutch. In college, Cool Guitars Guys were easy to spot: They could be found conveniently playing on a sidewalk near the dorms with the most females. Their favorite songs to play for people include, but are not limited to “Sweet Home Alabama”, “Tears in Heaven”, “Stairway to Heaven”, “Enter Sandman”, and “Wonderwall”. Cool Guitar Guys don’t really have to sing much more than the chorus, just the main guitar licks. Because once the familiar part of the song is played, a token instant-fan or two will feed Cool Guitar Guy with “Oh, I love this song!” Of course you do.

Cool Guitar Guys usually have faces that are fist magnets, like Spencer Pratt. They always have this tendency to break Man Code, spouting off how much they loved the movie The Notebook, in an effort to show their sensitive side to the girl listeners in their small audience. And if they can find a reason to talk about kids, they will go and on about how much they love their nieces and nephews (to convince prospective dates they would make a good husband one day).

Granted, Cool Guitar Guy isn’t taken seriously by the other nine guitar players in the statistic. Because normal guitar players don’t need the guitar to be cool and to start conversations.

 

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I Wish You Would Step Back From that Ledge, My Friend

I’ve struggled my whole life with the phrase “red head”. Ronald McDonald has red hair. But as far as natural hair color, the “reddest” I know of is Carrot Top, and literally his hair is dark flaming orange, not red. And while there are people with a shade of brown hair that has sort of a red hue to it, those aren’t the people we give the name to. Red Heads do not exist. Only Orange Heads. But for some reason Red Head is the term that stuck, and the whole world (with the exception of me) is okay with that and doesn’t question it.

Last week I drove over the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco for the first time, having been hypnotized by the theme song montage of Full House that the Golden Gate is the most awesome bridge ever. The bridge is one of America’s most easily identified and popular landmarks. But like Red Heads, it’s not red either. It’s “international orange”. The “Golden” Gate Bridge is actually orange though most people think it’s red. Colors are confusing. The human equivalent to the Golden Gate Bridge would be a Red Head named Sunny. And then Sunny wins American Idol.

Despite its superstar status in our country, I have to admit I find the Golden Gate Bridge to be overrated. I had always imagined that it was a huge bridge that crossed miles of water. When in actuality it’s only 4/5 of a mile long. And the bridge is only one of five major bridges in the San Francisco Bay Area, and it’s not the main one.

I was surprised when I later crossed the San Francisco-Oakland Bridge a few miles away, realizing it has the same design as the Golden Gate except this is the double-decker version, over twice as long, and is painted a bland silver (because the city pretty much is consumed by a murky fog, it actually gives the bridge more of an off-white color). But no one ever pays attention to it.

Strangely, the Golden Gate Bridge is the most popular place in America (and arguably of the world) to commit suicide. According to Wikipedia, approximately one person every 14 days ends their life by jumping from the bridge. Over 1,200 deaths were confirmed by 2005 (since the bridge’s completion in 1937). The success rate of suicide for jumpers from the bridge is close to 98%, with only 26 survivors ever. Though the time it takes for a jumper to hit the water only takes four seconds, the speed of the jumpers reaches around 86 mph. Only Chuck Norris breaks necks quicker.

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Why People Live Where They Do: Big City Vs. Small Town

Psychologists have debated for decades and decades whether it’s a child’s genetics or a child’s environment that molds his or her personality. Genetics and environment are two factors that affect a person not just as a child, but for an entire lifetime. The main difference between the two is this: Genetics remain the same, environment does not.

The place an adult lives isn’t always a case of true choice. Often a person is forced to live in a city based on career. Bigger city equals bigger paycheck and more opportunities. And when it comes to paying off student loans after graduating college, it just makes more sense to live in a bigger city. But what happens when the loans are nearly paid off and the once recent college grad is now an experienced office cubicle pro?

A trend in recent years is the migration of big city dwellers to smaller towns. Obviously, it’s a pay cut. But while a $40K job in a big city only pays $32K in a smaller town, $32K in a smaller town can very easily be the equivalent of $40K based on the local economy. So money is not really an issue.

Big city life can definitely lose its appeal after a few years. Especially after the transition from single life to married life. The married couple realizes they spend a total of an hour each driving to and from work every day. They realize how much that costs in gas and car maintenance. They consider how much less houses cost in a smaller city. They watch the local news and see all the stupid shootings near their neighborhood, then the hear police sirens at night.

It just becomes aware to the two people (who both grew up in a small town) that being married slows down the pace of life. From the hectic speed of a big city to the laid back speed of a small town. In a good way.

Married life as compared to single life: No major need to fill up a weekly schedule with things to do. No major need for all the activities and places to meet new people. Being married attracts married friends, married outings, married hobbies, and married entertainment. I found that when I got married I stopped having to try at my social life- it came to me.

My whole life, I never minded eating alone. Spending a Friday night alone. Exploring a new city or country on my own. I classify myself as a half-breed between an extrovert and an introvert because while I love being around other people and involving myself in society and culture, I really don’t mind being alone for long periods at a time.

One of the many benefits of being married is that it’s the ultimate “hang out” life. An excuse to get to hang out every day of the week if I want to. Because even when I’m “doing nothing”, I’m with my wife. And that makes it okay.

(Enter here a heckler from the audience: “Just wait ‘til you have kids. That’ll all change…”)

 

Friday nights tend to be the weekend night of the week that she and I purposely do nothing. Cook dinner, go for a walk, and watch a creepy crime story on NBC Dateline. And we love it.

When I was single, I felt there was a stigma was placed on me if I wasn’t out spending money on an activity that I didn’t really want to do in an effort to be social. But now I can do what I really want to do because I have this “life witness” who is with me either way. Whether we’re doing absolutely nothing or taking our next road trip.

 

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What Howard Gardner’s Theory of Multiple Intelligences Taught Me about Why I Have Such a Good Memory

In 1988 for Ms. Riddle’s 2nd grade reading class we had to write a poem telling about a time when we really wanted something for a long time and finally got it. I remember Susan Johnson writing about getting to go to the beach. And Diego Reynoso wrote about getting a pet dog. That was the general idea of the assignment. I, on the other hand, wrote a poem about how happy I was when my dad went to the True Value hardware store and bought an adapter so I could play my Atari games on the TV in my bedroom.

Ten years and 3 weeks ago I walked across the stage for my high school graduation. All seniors had been given a document from the principal listing the proper attire to wear underneath our gowns. We were clearly told to wear black shoes. The token rebel thing to do was to go barefoot. I, instead, chose to wear canary yellow Saucony tennis shoes and hold out a stick of Mentos candy to the audience as I crossed the stage. It’s simply what’s expected from the kid who was voted “One and Only” for the Senior Who’s Who.

 

One question I have consistently been asked throughout my lifetime is, “You just HAVE to be different, don’t you?” Assuming it must be true, I would always casually agree. But then two weeks ago my wife came back from one of her Master’s classes for Childhood Education and dropped some science on me. Having learned Howard Gardner’s Theory of Multiple Intelligence (1983), she told me that I am a “visual-linguistic learner”. That’s when it was officially confirmed: Yes, I HAVE to be different.

I have been hard-wired to seek out the road less travelled, every time. Not a rebel in the expected way, but a rebel in the fact I am prone to find a different perspective on everything I encounter in life. I was never the annoying kid in class who tried to argue with the teacher. That kid always annoyed me. But I was the kid who, when given a project, always ended up with the weirdest possible submission and was able to pull it off.

 

Noted, my long-term memory is often exceptionally unbelievable. In high school, many people were forced to be made aware of my obsession with 1980’s trivia, since I could correctly tell the year of any movie or song, my specialty being 1983. In college, most people who knew me were forced to be made aware that they could name any celebrity and I could accurately tell the height of that celebrity. I’m simply not much fun to play against in modern trivia board games like Scene It or Trivial Pursuit and being the first to solve the puzzle while watching Wheel of Fortune just comes natural.

And it turns out I’m not the only one. A quick visit to Wikipedia helped my life make a lot more sense:

 

“Verbal-linguistic Intelligence

This area has to do with words, spoken or written. People with high verbal-linguistic intelligence display a facility with words and languages. They are typically good at reading, writing, telling stories and MEMORIZING WORDS ALONG WITH DATES. They tend to learn best by reading, taking notes, listening to lectures, and discussion and debate. They are also frequently skilled at explaining, teaching and oration or persuasive speaking. Those with verbal-linguistic intelligence learn foreign languages very easily as they have high verbal memory and recall, and an ability to understand and manipulate syntax and structure. This intelligence is highest in writers, lawyers, philosophers, journalists, politicians, poets, and teachers.”

Being raised my whole life in the South, people from the North and out West have always questioned my lack of a Southern accent. Because my mom moved from Buffalo, NY when she was 14, I always assumed that neutralized me. But after realizing anyone who’s ever met my mom says she actually has one of the biggest Southern accents out there, I’ve recently come to terms with the truth there is another reason people think I’m from Pennsylvania or Ohio.

 

The reason: I am overly aware of how words are supposed to sound. I could never bring myself to say “Eh’ll seeh yuh nehxt Tuesdee, Eh reckin!” (“I’ll see you next Tuesday, I reckon!”) For me, that’s a sin. That’s breaking so many rules of pronunciation and is a threat to clear communication. I never realized I was so OCD about words and speech.

Speaking of communication, when I met my wife for the first time on October 5, 2006, it was her beauty that captured me from across the crowded lobby. Anytime I revisit that event with her she confirms it was because I was good at telling stories and entertaining her that caused a random new stranger like me to be able to steal her attention. (I purposely stood next to her as we waited in an hour long line- that’s how we met.) As we began dating four months later (to the day) and immediately fell in love thereafter, two particular things attracted her most to me: 1) I knew “who I was” and was confident in that, 2) She knew because of my random knowledge that we would never run out of things to talk about.

Not because I was suave and charming, but because my randomness of speech worked for me.

 

So thanks to Howard Gardner, it’s safe to say I’m not that weird after all. Actually, I am- but at least now I have been diagnosed. While I may be a bit of a prodigy at a few things, any talent I have in other fields is completely absent: Math, science, multi-tasking (driving while talking on a cell phone), and sports (except Corn Hole and Mario Kart Wii). Like by magnetic force, I am drawn to what is offbeat and untrendy.

This, has been my version of a Top 25 or a “Which Power Ranger Would You Be?” quiz.

The other intelligences…
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theory_of_multiple_intelligences

 

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Dr. Deja Vu: Time Flies (A Deliberate Play on Words)

Flies. Only Mr. Miyagi and Daniel-son have been able to catch them in their hands. As for me, I’ve never been so fortunate. I used to think the fly was just smarter than I was. When really, it has more to do with time travel. The lighter a living being is, the quicker it is able to move and react, and the less gravity has an effect on it. (That explains why an ant can fall from any distance in the air and land safely every time.) Therefore, a fly can process action much quicker than a human can. Technically, time goes by much quicker for a fly.

When I swat my hand at a fly that is two feet away from my face, it would be like me seeing a skyscraper from half a mile away moving towards me at 10 miles per hour while I was driving a Lamborghini. In other words, I could very easily get out of the way in time.

I am intrigued by things like flies that can move so fast that I can’t see trace of their movement. Another example is the human eye. When I focus on the pupil of another person as they are talking, it shifts and moves so quickly that I can’t actually see the movement. I just see the effect of the movement: the new location of the pupil.

If I wave my hand as fast as I can in front of my face, I can still see the “trail” of it moving. Not so with the human eye. Or the movement of a fly.

This is also the case with many small birds. Though it does reveal a premature drive-a-Winnebago-cross-country aspect about me, I love to watch birds. The fact that they don’t walk- they just hop, without a trace of movement. The fact that they can eat a bug so fast that I can’t even seem them do it.

These thoughts and ideas will surely lead to the development and invention of time travel. Society will thank me someday in the future. Or is it really in the future? Maybe it was a long time ago when I helped invented time travel. It’s hard to know anymore…