I've learned a lot this year. More so about myself than anything else, really. One of the things I learned this year is just how much of a loner I can be. And I learned it in an unlikely place.
Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a fairly social guy, so it might come as somewhat of a surprise to find out that I consider myself a loner. Let me make something clear. I love people. And I love loving people. I'm comfortable in a crowd, but the point I'm trying to make is that I'm just as comfortable on my own. I'm fine with sitting in a room full of people, absorbed in my thoughts, in my own little world. I guess I should have extrapolated from the fact that I spend hours a day in my room either asleep or just cruising around on the internet. I'll gladly jump in if a bunch of people are going to Dutch's for dinner or are going to a Stars game, but I'm just as happy on my own.
I discovered this in a strange way. I actually discovered it in class. After all our quizzes, Dr. Dan would read our answers out loud, and we would have to guess who wrote it. Spoiler alert: it's always Kacey. Anyway, a few quizzes in I realized I only knew about four or five people's names. And at the end of the semester, on the last day of class, I realized I still only knew a handful of names. And I certainly didn't know anyone I hadn't known at the beginning of the semester.
That startled me because it put in perspective two things about me. One, I didn't make an effort to get to know these people. And two, I really am a loner. I learned something about myself I'm not sure I liked. I'm still trying to figure out how to handle that.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
"Hey, Scotty... Jesus, man"
My faith is the most important thing in my life, and if I tried to give an account of my entire walk with the Lord I'd be at this computer till classes started in August. I want to focus on one experience and what I learned from it.
Every Sunday I go to church with a guy named Andrew, who went to TCU and graduated a few years ago. He now works for some engineering company or something here in Fort Worth. Anyway, we've taken to talking about the sermons on the car rides back to campus, and we've had some great talks, but one stands out. We were talking about something called the Doctrine of License, which basically says that since Jesus died for all my sins on the cross I can do whatever I want in this life and still go to heaven when I die. It's a highly dangerous road to travel because if you buy into this doctrine chances are you never believed in Jesus in the first place. But that's not what I'm getting at.
I realized something about myself that I had been trying to avoid confronting for a long time. I realized that I was still trying to earn my way into heaven. I'm a textbook Pharisee. I believed that if I did enough Christian things, I could earn God's approval. Basically, I tried to control my own salvation. This made me realize just how much of a control freak I actually am. I'm terrified of letting go and trusting God for my salvation because I'm afraid that it I let go, if I stop trying, then I won't have done enough and there will be no going back.
This led me to realize how small a view of the cross I actually had, and I've grown closer to God because of that encounter. I know it's super personal, but I'm running on little sleep, so deal with it.
Every Sunday I go to church with a guy named Andrew, who went to TCU and graduated a few years ago. He now works for some engineering company or something here in Fort Worth. Anyway, we've taken to talking about the sermons on the car rides back to campus, and we've had some great talks, but one stands out. We were talking about something called the Doctrine of License, which basically says that since Jesus died for all my sins on the cross I can do whatever I want in this life and still go to heaven when I die. It's a highly dangerous road to travel because if you buy into this doctrine chances are you never believed in Jesus in the first place. But that's not what I'm getting at.
I realized something about myself that I had been trying to avoid confronting for a long time. I realized that I was still trying to earn my way into heaven. I'm a textbook Pharisee. I believed that if I did enough Christian things, I could earn God's approval. Basically, I tried to control my own salvation. This made me realize just how much of a control freak I actually am. I'm terrified of letting go and trusting God for my salvation because I'm afraid that it I let go, if I stop trying, then I won't have done enough and there will be no going back.
This led me to realize how small a view of the cross I actually had, and I've grown closer to God because of that encounter. I know it's super personal, but I'm running on little sleep, so deal with it.
Art History
I had a fantastic art history teacher in high school. He was this old guy named Jim Russell, and he had been teaching at MUS for something like 40+ years. He was the one who ignited my passion for art history. Ok, my trip to Italy in 8th grade ignited the passion, but Mr, Russell reignited the long-smoldering coals of my passion for art history.
Last semester I took a class called Animals in Art, which looked at the depictions of different animals in different time periods of art. But the class I took this semester was called British Art: Medieval to Modern. It was one of the most eye opening classes I've taken. My high school art history course was a basic survey course, going over all the major time periods and works. And the Animals in Art class was similar. But Brit Art was the first class I'd taken that dealt specifically with a certain culture and looked at the entire history of its art.
I was astounded by not only the sheer number of works but of the history within them. I guess I hadn't really considered that fact that a hundred years is a long time, and a lot can happen, historically speaking. The class gave me a greater appreciation for British history and history in general. There is a lot more to the human story than just the major events we hear and learn about. The life story of a person in the most obscure portrait painting can be just as important as a war-winning battle.
Last semester I took a class called Animals in Art, which looked at the depictions of different animals in different time periods of art. But the class I took this semester was called British Art: Medieval to Modern. It was one of the most eye opening classes I've taken. My high school art history course was a basic survey course, going over all the major time periods and works. And the Animals in Art class was similar. But Brit Art was the first class I'd taken that dealt specifically with a certain culture and looked at the entire history of its art.
I was astounded by not only the sheer number of works but of the history within them. I guess I hadn't really considered that fact that a hundred years is a long time, and a lot can happen, historically speaking. The class gave me a greater appreciation for British history and history in general. There is a lot more to the human story than just the major events we hear and learn about. The life story of a person in the most obscure portrait painting can be just as important as a war-winning battle.
Uncontrollable laughter pt. 2
If you haven't gone to Czech Stop, you need to go tonight. If you don't know what it is, let me enlighten you. Czech Stop is this tiny little gas station about an hour and a half south of us in the small town of West, TX, near where that plant blew up or whatever happened a while back. What's so great about it isn't the gas prices, it's the gas station food. They have these amazing pastry things called kolaches, and they defy explanation. They're sort of like danishes, but not as sweet, and better. Anyway, it's something of a tradition to make the 3+ hour road trip to Czech Stop in the middle of the night, preferably the night before a major exam. So that's exactly what Wyatt, Andrew O'Brien, and I did last semester.
Now when you're on a three hour road trip, you're not going to sit in silence. For the first half of the leg down there we played music, then we talked about which power you would have if you had to choose between air bending, water bending, earth bending, or fire bending. I said water bending, but it all depends on how fine a control we're talking here. I mean, do I have control of water at the molecular level? The droplet level? The snowball level? And how far do my powers extend? As far as I can see? Do I have to be touching the water? This isn't a simple question.
Then we turned to one of my favorite games, Make It Or Break It. The idea behind Make It Or Break It is that we are all terrible, shallow people. It goes like this. Say you're dating a girl, and she's perfect in every way. But she ____________. Fill in the blank with some flaw, and everyone playing has to decide whether they will stay in the relationship (make it) or dump her (break it). For example: You're dating a girl, and she's perfect in every way, but once a week, for fifteen minutes, she tries her absolute hardest to kill you. Make it or break it? Or you're dating a girl, and she's perfect in every way, but she makes you switch to Boost Mobile. Make it or break it? Obviously this game can get really complicated really fast. There are some that are super long and complex, but I won't go into them because they're kind of inappropro.
So we were playing Make It Or Break It, and one of us came up with one that we will aways remember. I don;t remember who said it, but it went like this: You're dating a girl, and she's perfect in every way, but when she has an orgasm she screams like the Nazgul from Lord of the Rings. Make it or break it? That alone was enough to get us laughing harder than we had ever laughed, but then someone looked up a soundbite of a Nazgul screaming. (Here's a clip of a Nazgul screaming in case you've never seen the movies https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rtI86rgZ9I). I can honestly say that it was the funniest thing that has ever happened to me. I really don't know how Andrew's car stayed on the road.
But the laughing is only half the story. You see, this incident happened a short time after BYX Big/Little reveal, and I had only just learned that Andrew was my big. This was the first road trip we had ben on as big and little, and it was a great bonding experience for the both of us. At least, I know it was for me. We have become really close since then, and I attribute a lot of that to the fact that our relationship "began" with laughter.
Now when you're on a three hour road trip, you're not going to sit in silence. For the first half of the leg down there we played music, then we talked about which power you would have if you had to choose between air bending, water bending, earth bending, or fire bending. I said water bending, but it all depends on how fine a control we're talking here. I mean, do I have control of water at the molecular level? The droplet level? The snowball level? And how far do my powers extend? As far as I can see? Do I have to be touching the water? This isn't a simple question.
Then we turned to one of my favorite games, Make It Or Break It. The idea behind Make It Or Break It is that we are all terrible, shallow people. It goes like this. Say you're dating a girl, and she's perfect in every way. But she ____________. Fill in the blank with some flaw, and everyone playing has to decide whether they will stay in the relationship (make it) or dump her (break it). For example: You're dating a girl, and she's perfect in every way, but once a week, for fifteen minutes, she tries her absolute hardest to kill you. Make it or break it? Or you're dating a girl, and she's perfect in every way, but she makes you switch to Boost Mobile. Make it or break it? Obviously this game can get really complicated really fast. There are some that are super long and complex, but I won't go into them because they're kind of inappropro.
So we were playing Make It Or Break It, and one of us came up with one that we will aways remember. I don;t remember who said it, but it went like this: You're dating a girl, and she's perfect in every way, but when she has an orgasm she screams like the Nazgul from Lord of the Rings. Make it or break it? That alone was enough to get us laughing harder than we had ever laughed, but then someone looked up a soundbite of a Nazgul screaming. (Here's a clip of a Nazgul screaming in case you've never seen the movies https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rtI86rgZ9I). I can honestly say that it was the funniest thing that has ever happened to me. I really don't know how Andrew's car stayed on the road.
But the laughing is only half the story. You see, this incident happened a short time after BYX Big/Little reveal, and I had only just learned that Andrew was my big. This was the first road trip we had ben on as big and little, and it was a great bonding experience for the both of us. At least, I know it was for me. We have become really close since then, and I attribute a lot of that to the fact that our relationship "began" with laughter.
The complexities of humor
My life, and most of my social interactions, as best I can determine, has been a series of jokes and laughs. When I meet people, I instinctively shy away from the stiff formalities and pleasantries of "accepted" social behavior. Not to say that I intentionally try to be inappropriate, but I do like to challenge social norms and the expected patterns of behavior. I find them stifling. I don't like to be told how to behave. I've come to realize that's why I hate competitive swimming. When I'm in the water, I'm free. I can go wherever I want in the pool, however I want to get there. And when someone tells me I have to swim a certain way, in a certain direction, for a certain distance, my entire being rejects the idea. Also, I can't dive.
But back to what I was saying. When I meet people, I try to project a certain image of myself. I want to be someone you don't have to take too seriously, because, after all, I hardly take myself seriously anyway. But whenever I violate these social conventions when I'm around people, especially people I've just met, they tend to laugh. And that's curious because I'm not trying to be funny. The things I do and say aren't funny in and of themselves. And that gets me wondering: why do people laugh at unfunny things? Think about it. People laugh in awkward situations, when they don't know what else to say. People laugh when they're really happy, even though the situation itself isn't necessarily funny.
It only follows then that laughter and humor are not necessarily related. So what makes something funny. According to our textbook, there are the Relief Theory, Incongruity Theory, and Superiority Theory. But I think these theories are dumb. First of all, I don't think there's a fixed scientific definition of humor, that if something meets these criteria then it's funny. But I do think most humor is just variations on the same thing. In my experience, confirmed by my readings in class, something is funny if it's unexpected. This would explain all the humor that falls under the supposed category of "Incongruity". Humor is the study of the unexpected. When a drunk walks into a wall, it's not funny because we feel superior to that person. It's funny because his behavior conflicts with normal human behavior of not walking into walls. And don't get me started on the Relief Theory. It might explain why we laugh at times, but it doesn't mean something's funny.
Personally, I loved learning about humor since it's such a big part of my life. I was glad to know that my own musings on the subject have been much more extensively mused on. If I live my life making jokes, isn't it important to know why my audience laughs?
But back to what I was saying. When I meet people, I try to project a certain image of myself. I want to be someone you don't have to take too seriously, because, after all, I hardly take myself seriously anyway. But whenever I violate these social conventions when I'm around people, especially people I've just met, they tend to laugh. And that's curious because I'm not trying to be funny. The things I do and say aren't funny in and of themselves. And that gets me wondering: why do people laugh at unfunny things? Think about it. People laugh in awkward situations, when they don't know what else to say. People laugh when they're really happy, even though the situation itself isn't necessarily funny.
It only follows then that laughter and humor are not necessarily related. So what makes something funny. According to our textbook, there are the Relief Theory, Incongruity Theory, and Superiority Theory. But I think these theories are dumb. First of all, I don't think there's a fixed scientific definition of humor, that if something meets these criteria then it's funny. But I do think most humor is just variations on the same thing. In my experience, confirmed by my readings in class, something is funny if it's unexpected. This would explain all the humor that falls under the supposed category of "Incongruity". Humor is the study of the unexpected. When a drunk walks into a wall, it's not funny because we feel superior to that person. It's funny because his behavior conflicts with normal human behavior of not walking into walls. And don't get me started on the Relief Theory. It might explain why we laugh at times, but it doesn't mean something's funny.
Personally, I loved learning about humor since it's such a big part of my life. I was glad to know that my own musings on the subject have been much more extensively mused on. If I live my life making jokes, isn't it important to know why my audience laughs?
My conversation with Crichelle Brice
So back in March, Wyatt, Austin, and I did a presentation on British humor. Wyatt and Austin interviewed Crichelle, and I did some research on the internet. So I never got the chance to sit down with an actual English person and talk with them about their humor. And, quite frankly, I have already forgotten most of what we talked about. And I felt I missed out on a good opportunity because I love British comedies like Monty Python or those old comedies they show late at night on PBS like Keeping Up Appearances or As Time Goes By.
So I reached out to Crichelle and sat down with her. Actually, I was lying in bed, and I don't know where she was; it was phone interview. So I asked her about what made something funny back home, and she said that much of English humor is dry or sarcastic. She told me that it is in fact so heavily sarcastic that most foreigners think it's plain rude and mean. There is also a big element of self-depreciation, and that making fun of yourself can be seen as funny.
When I asked her about her experience in the States she said that she didn't find American humor necessarily funny or not. It depended on who was telling the joke. She said that she doesn't find American humor that funny unless it's pretty intelligent. She said it's not as subtle. It's more upfront and obvious, and so you don;thane to think about it as much, which she said wasn't as fun. She also pointed out that an American probably wouldn't understand when she was joking.
This whole experience got me thinking. I said in my earlier post that I didn't believe that one could give a blanket definition to the comedic preferences of an entire culture, and in some ways that's probably true. But I'd like to amend my earlier statement to say that you probably couldn't do that to America. I think we're just too big, and it's probably also a cultural thing. We have a population around 300 million people, whereas the countries from out Humor Around the World presentations only had populations in the tens of millions if not the plain-old millions. That's just too many opinions. I also said it's probably a cultural thing. We Americans pride ourselves on freedom of speech, and I think that extends to humor too. We like being able to find whatever we want funny, and the idea that there's a single unifying definition of humor for all of us goes against our notion of individuality and freedom.
Personally, I think that's awesome, that we're the exception to the rule. But more importantly, it means that I can be challenged by what I and other people think are funny. I can grow in my understanding of humor and the human condition. Or something like that
So I reached out to Crichelle and sat down with her. Actually, I was lying in bed, and I don't know where she was; it was phone interview. So I asked her about what made something funny back home, and she said that much of English humor is dry or sarcastic. She told me that it is in fact so heavily sarcastic that most foreigners think it's plain rude and mean. There is also a big element of self-depreciation, and that making fun of yourself can be seen as funny.
When I asked her about her experience in the States she said that she didn't find American humor necessarily funny or not. It depended on who was telling the joke. She said that she doesn't find American humor that funny unless it's pretty intelligent. She said it's not as subtle. It's more upfront and obvious, and so you don;thane to think about it as much, which she said wasn't as fun. She also pointed out that an American probably wouldn't understand when she was joking.
This whole experience got me thinking. I said in my earlier post that I didn't believe that one could give a blanket definition to the comedic preferences of an entire culture, and in some ways that's probably true. But I'd like to amend my earlier statement to say that you probably couldn't do that to America. I think we're just too big, and it's probably also a cultural thing. We have a population around 300 million people, whereas the countries from out Humor Around the World presentations only had populations in the tens of millions if not the plain-old millions. That's just too many opinions. I also said it's probably a cultural thing. We Americans pride ourselves on freedom of speech, and I think that extends to humor too. We like being able to find whatever we want funny, and the idea that there's a single unifying definition of humor for all of us goes against our notion of individuality and freedom.
Personally, I think that's awesome, that we're the exception to the rule. But more importantly, it means that I can be challenged by what I and other people think are funny. I can grow in my understanding of humor and the human condition. Or something like that
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Uncontrollable Laughter pt. 1
I was browsing Youtube earlier and I came across a video called O Fortuna Misheard Lyrics. 30 seconds into the video I was laughing with complete abandon. I was openly weeping it was so funny. If you've never heard the song (although I'm sure you have, you just may not know it's name), it's a medieval Latin poem addressed to the character of fortune or luck. The video is part of a meme culture called misheard lyrics. Basically, you take a song in another language and write down the English words it sounds like the song is saying. For example:
O fortuna, velut luna (O fortune, just as the moon) Gopher tuna, bring more tuna
Satur variabilis (Full of change) --> Statue of big dog with fleas
Semper crisis (Always waxing) Some men like cheese
Aut decrescis (Or waning) Hot temperate cheese
You see the comedic potential. My favorite line is on the huge sudden crescendo where the choir is actually singing "Sors salutis et vir tutis" (Fate is against me in health) but the lyrics on the video are "Salsa cookies, windmill cookies".
Part of what makes the video so great is the animations that go along with it. The characters actually look like they're singing the misheard lyrics, which makes the video even funnier. But another part of the humor comes from the fact that O Fortuna is such an epic song, especially when sung by a full choir, and the idea that an entire choir would be belting out the line "Salsa cookies", combined with the animated character from the video, dissolves me into fits of giggles.
Looking back, this video has been exactly what I needed because it got me focused back on schoolwork after I'd been messing around on the internet too long. I blogged about the video, and now I'm going to work on other stuff I desperately need to get done. Other than that, though, I can thing of no other redeeming value this video possesses.
Here's the link if you want to watch it
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIwrgAnx6Q8
O fortuna, velut luna (O fortune, just as the moon) Gopher tuna, bring more tuna
Satur variabilis (Full of change) --> Statue of big dog with fleas
Semper crisis (Always waxing) Some men like cheese
Aut decrescis (Or waning) Hot temperate cheese
You see the comedic potential. My favorite line is on the huge sudden crescendo where the choir is actually singing "Sors salutis et vir tutis" (Fate is against me in health) but the lyrics on the video are "Salsa cookies, windmill cookies".
Part of what makes the video so great is the animations that go along with it. The characters actually look like they're singing the misheard lyrics, which makes the video even funnier. But another part of the humor comes from the fact that O Fortuna is such an epic song, especially when sung by a full choir, and the idea that an entire choir would be belting out the line "Salsa cookies", combined with the animated character from the video, dissolves me into fits of giggles.
Looking back, this video has been exactly what I needed because it got me focused back on schoolwork after I'd been messing around on the internet too long. I blogged about the video, and now I'm going to work on other stuff I desperately need to get done. Other than that, though, I can thing of no other redeeming value this video possesses.
Here's the link if you want to watch it
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIwrgAnx6Q8
My conversation with Yun Lim
So for the first of my interviews I ate lunch with Yun Lim, an international student who moved to the States in 2010 from South Korea. He told me that a lot of South Korean humor is physical humor. There are a lot of slapstick comedies and things of that nature. When I asked him about American humor he told me when he first moved here he understood our humor pretty quickly. He said he's always been a quick study on humor and was even a part of an improv group, so he told me it was no problem for him to pick up our humor. In fact he doesn't really see a difference in the two.
We both had to get going pretty quickly, him to his studies and I to mine, so we didn't have as much time as I would have liked. But the interview got me thinking about how cultures perceive humor and, more to the point, is it possible to make judgment calls on an entire culture in terms of their comedic preferences? I mean, we've been talking all year about different countries and the types of humor they prefer, but is that really true of the whole country or just the people interviewed?
Think of it this way, have you ever seen the TV show Frasier? The eponymous title character is a pompous psychiatrist who enjoys the finer things in life. Now think of the show Wipeout, a game show whose only purpose, really, is to punch contestants in the face as many times as they can with as many different foam apparati as they can. Clearly these two shows are meant to appeal to two different audiences, but they are both American TV shows written and produced to make Americans laugh.
So, when you think about it, maybe the entire concept of giving presentations on the humors of various cultures is flawed. It's just something to think about.
We both had to get going pretty quickly, him to his studies and I to mine, so we didn't have as much time as I would have liked. But the interview got me thinking about how cultures perceive humor and, more to the point, is it possible to make judgment calls on an entire culture in terms of their comedic preferences? I mean, we've been talking all year about different countries and the types of humor they prefer, but is that really true of the whole country or just the people interviewed?
Think of it this way, have you ever seen the TV show Frasier? The eponymous title character is a pompous psychiatrist who enjoys the finer things in life. Now think of the show Wipeout, a game show whose only purpose, really, is to punch contestants in the face as many times as they can with as many different foam apparati as they can. Clearly these two shows are meant to appeal to two different audiences, but they are both American TV shows written and produced to make Americans laugh.
So, when you think about it, maybe the entire concept of giving presentations on the humors of various cultures is flawed. It's just something to think about.
The Best Friend With The Best Name
My best friend in the entire world is a guy named Louis Wadsworth Mattis III. Tripp and I met in elementary school when he moved to Memphis in 2004, but I don't really remember much of him before 6th grade. My earliest memory of Tripp is the two of us hanging out by the pool at the hotel during the 6th grade father-son trip to St. Louis that my school did every year. I say hanging out, but it was more me being a dick to him and trying to push him into the pool a lot.
I still have a hard time believing that's what I was actually doing; I have a suspicion that I'm misremembering. Not to say I wasn't capable of being a dick to people in elementary school. Oh no, I was a terrible child. Come to think of it, I was probably a huge bully. No, the reason I question my memory is that I don't see how I could have been such a jerk to him in 6th grade, and yet I have a picture of the two of us as best friends in 8th grade.
Well, however we became friends, there's no denying that we did. And I'm closer to him than any other person on Earth. Tripp is the only person I know who I am equally comfortable talking to as I am sitting in silence. I have some friends around whom I always feel I need to keep the conversation going, friends I feel are in some way or another better than me, so I have to justify my presence around them by always having something to say: friends like Annaliese. And then I have other friends, friends that I'm comfortable being around in silence if we're both doing something: friends like Wyatt. But Tripp is unique. There are no uncomfortable silences between us. We can sit in silence with nothing going on, lost in our own thoughts, and it's not weird or awkward at all.
Tripp is also the only person with whom I feel comfortable sharing anything. Well, there are like one or two things about me that I've never told another living soul. but other than that I can talk to Tripp about anything. It's not like I don't trust other people. There are guys like Davo and Phil who have been discipling me over the years, and I can share my struggles with them, but I wouldn't walk into Phil's office and tell him that my desk calendar is still on March because I haven't been able to get to it because of all the clutter on my desk. That's too trivial. But I have no reservations about calling Tripp up right now and telling him that. That's just the way we work.
In retrospect, he's probably been a better friend to me that I've been to him. Especially in the last year or so, he's opened up to me about a lot of the issues he's been having, and I haven't really opened up to him. It's not that I'm afraid to, I just never did. And I think it gave him the false sense that I was infallible, that I had it all worked out, which isn't true at all. And, whether this actually played out in reality or not, I got the idea that our friendship was suffering because of it. And that terrified me. See, I understand that all good relationships have conflict. When two people are close to each other they're going to rub up against each other; it's healthy, and it usually makes the relationship stronger. But Tripp and I never really came into conflict about anything. We're both pretty chill people. So when this (likely imagined) conflict arose, I over reacted because I wasn't used to conflict in the relationship.
This past year has been hard. We're at different schools, and we haven't been able to hang out as much, which is a major reason I'm excited to be working in Memphis this summer. Hopefully we remain friends and what happened between Chip and me doesn't happen to the two of us (don't get me started on Chip; that's a whole other story) because Tripp's my best friend, and I don't know what I'd do or who I'd be with out him.
I still have a hard time believing that's what I was actually doing; I have a suspicion that I'm misremembering. Not to say I wasn't capable of being a dick to people in elementary school. Oh no, I was a terrible child. Come to think of it, I was probably a huge bully. No, the reason I question my memory is that I don't see how I could have been such a jerk to him in 6th grade, and yet I have a picture of the two of us as best friends in 8th grade.
Well, however we became friends, there's no denying that we did. And I'm closer to him than any other person on Earth. Tripp is the only person I know who I am equally comfortable talking to as I am sitting in silence. I have some friends around whom I always feel I need to keep the conversation going, friends I feel are in some way or another better than me, so I have to justify my presence around them by always having something to say: friends like Annaliese. And then I have other friends, friends that I'm comfortable being around in silence if we're both doing something: friends like Wyatt. But Tripp is unique. There are no uncomfortable silences between us. We can sit in silence with nothing going on, lost in our own thoughts, and it's not weird or awkward at all.
Tripp is also the only person with whom I feel comfortable sharing anything. Well, there are like one or two things about me that I've never told another living soul. but other than that I can talk to Tripp about anything. It's not like I don't trust other people. There are guys like Davo and Phil who have been discipling me over the years, and I can share my struggles with them, but I wouldn't walk into Phil's office and tell him that my desk calendar is still on March because I haven't been able to get to it because of all the clutter on my desk. That's too trivial. But I have no reservations about calling Tripp up right now and telling him that. That's just the way we work.
In retrospect, he's probably been a better friend to me that I've been to him. Especially in the last year or so, he's opened up to me about a lot of the issues he's been having, and I haven't really opened up to him. It's not that I'm afraid to, I just never did. And I think it gave him the false sense that I was infallible, that I had it all worked out, which isn't true at all. And, whether this actually played out in reality or not, I got the idea that our friendship was suffering because of it. And that terrified me. See, I understand that all good relationships have conflict. When two people are close to each other they're going to rub up against each other; it's healthy, and it usually makes the relationship stronger. But Tripp and I never really came into conflict about anything. We're both pretty chill people. So when this (likely imagined) conflict arose, I over reacted because I wasn't used to conflict in the relationship.
This past year has been hard. We're at different schools, and we haven't been able to hang out as much, which is a major reason I'm excited to be working in Memphis this summer. Hopefully we remain friends and what happened between Chip and me doesn't happen to the two of us (don't get me started on Chip; that's a whole other story) because Tripp's my best friend, and I don't know what I'd do or who I'd be with out him.
Friday, May 2, 2014
The Logic-Defying Trio of John, Jefferson, and Chris
If you think I'm eccentric, wait till you meet John, Jefferson, and Chris. I'm a little weird; they're way out there. I know the prompt asks for an eccentric person, but I can't really talk about one without talking about the other two. I should tell you about the phone calls I've gotten from John at 4 in the morning. But let me back up.
How do I explain these guys?
All three were in a small group at church with me and some other guys, but John, Jefferson, and Chris were always together. Chris was always the most sober-minded of the three, the one who always seemed like he knew what they were doing was a bad idea. Not that he ever voiced his concerns, he was just the one that was the least out there. Jefferson was… high. There is no other word for it. Even though I don't think he's ever touched drugs in his life, his demeanor and personality were enough to convince you that he spent all his time in a haze of marijuana fumes. One time all four of us were walking into church one day, and as soon as we walked in the door Jefferson stopped and said, "Dude… there's people". John was the crazy one. He's the goofiest, craziest, funniest guy I've ever met. With his goofy smile and awkward run, John makes me crack up.
Now, I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm making fun of these guys. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I have nothing but respect for them, having grown up with them and watched them grow in their faith and shared struggles with them. If anything, I wish I could be more like them. Chris was athletic, everyone liked John, and Jefferson could grow a full beard in under an hour. But they are the weirdest guys I have ever known.
Case in point, there are three or four voicemails on my phone that I have received over the years from John, all coming at like 3 or 4 on the morning. The first one went something like this: "Hey, Bennett, I had the best idea, Hear me out. We're going to steal a taxi cab and drive up to Canada. Then we're going to bathe in maple syrup and roll around in Canadian grass and become grass monsters. And once we're grass monsters then we're going to fly to Washington and take over America." Another time, he asked me to come rescue him because he and Jefferson had gotten stuck inside a video game.
Having been friends with John for years, I think some of his personality has started to rub off on me, and I'm not sure it was entirely accidental. John was popular, but not in the way the "popular kids" are popular. Everyone loved John because he was just himself, and he was so comfortable with who he is. I've known my whole life I'm a weird kid, and I've always been okay with people thinking I'm weird. But John was weirder than I ever was, and everyone liked him. I wanted that. I wanted it real bad. So I started to act like him. I didn't mimic him; I just started to absorb some of his mannerisms and actions. Like how whenever he did something weird or awkward he would never acknowledge the awkwardness. Or that he would say what he was thinking without giving any context at all. Those are the kind of behaviors I picked up.
Honestly, I think I really am okay with who I am, and I think John had a large part to do with that. By seeing him as the popular quirky kid, I didn't have to spend all my energy trying to attain that. I could just look at John. So instead that freed me to just be myself.
How do I explain these guys?
All three were in a small group at church with me and some other guys, but John, Jefferson, and Chris were always together. Chris was always the most sober-minded of the three, the one who always seemed like he knew what they were doing was a bad idea. Not that he ever voiced his concerns, he was just the one that was the least out there. Jefferson was… high. There is no other word for it. Even though I don't think he's ever touched drugs in his life, his demeanor and personality were enough to convince you that he spent all his time in a haze of marijuana fumes. One time all four of us were walking into church one day, and as soon as we walked in the door Jefferson stopped and said, "Dude… there's people". John was the crazy one. He's the goofiest, craziest, funniest guy I've ever met. With his goofy smile and awkward run, John makes me crack up.
Now, I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm making fun of these guys. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I have nothing but respect for them, having grown up with them and watched them grow in their faith and shared struggles with them. If anything, I wish I could be more like them. Chris was athletic, everyone liked John, and Jefferson could grow a full beard in under an hour. But they are the weirdest guys I have ever known.
Case in point, there are three or four voicemails on my phone that I have received over the years from John, all coming at like 3 or 4 on the morning. The first one went something like this: "Hey, Bennett, I had the best idea, Hear me out. We're going to steal a taxi cab and drive up to Canada. Then we're going to bathe in maple syrup and roll around in Canadian grass and become grass monsters. And once we're grass monsters then we're going to fly to Washington and take over America." Another time, he asked me to come rescue him because he and Jefferson had gotten stuck inside a video game.
Having been friends with John for years, I think some of his personality has started to rub off on me, and I'm not sure it was entirely accidental. John was popular, but not in the way the "popular kids" are popular. Everyone loved John because he was just himself, and he was so comfortable with who he is. I've known my whole life I'm a weird kid, and I've always been okay with people thinking I'm weird. But John was weirder than I ever was, and everyone liked him. I wanted that. I wanted it real bad. So I started to act like him. I didn't mimic him; I just started to absorb some of his mannerisms and actions. Like how whenever he did something weird or awkward he would never acknowledge the awkwardness. Or that he would say what he was thinking without giving any context at all. Those are the kind of behaviors I picked up.
Honestly, I think I really am okay with who I am, and I think John had a large part to do with that. By seeing him as the popular quirky kid, I didn't have to spend all my energy trying to attain that. I could just look at John. So instead that freed me to just be myself.
Go team! Do the sports! Get all the points!
As anyone who's seen me can tell from my Adonis-like physique, I've always been a pro at any sport I undertook. If you didn't catch the irony there, then you've never seen me.
Sports have never been my thing. Even watching them. I've always been a little intimidated by people who can analyze games while watching them and have a huge store of statistics that can call up at any time during any play because I've never been able to do that.
So it should come as no surprise that playing sports has never been my forte either. I never really enjoyed sports, which sometimes makes me wonder why I ever played them at all. Aside from intramural and church leagues in elementary school, the first real competitive sport I played was for my 6th grade football team, the PDS Crusaders. The Crusaders had been undefeated for a number of seasons prior to ours, so there was considerable pressure on us. Not that that made much of a difference to me, like I said I've never been that competitive. I guess the only reason I joined the team was because it was the cool thing to do. My school wasn't cliquey at all, but everyone knew who was on the football team, and that accorded them at least some measure of respect. So I didn't really care how we did; all I cared about was that people knew I was on the team. Pretty shallow, right?
I think I only got on the field for one play. I was like 3rd string tackle or something, but in one game against Briarcrest I got put in on a kickoff play. Man, I got lit up. Not that I expected anything different to happen, it it was still pretty embarrassing. I would have played a second play, this time in the championship game, also against Briarcrest, but I was too busy talking to my friends, and I didn't hear Coach Fruitt call my name. Briarcrest was actually the only team we lost to that year, both in the regular season and the championship game, ending our undefeated streak. I still remember the car ride home, sitting next to my dad, trying to hold the tears in, which I actually did. I told myself that I would cry when I was alone in my room, but I found out to my surprise that when I got there I didn't want to cry anymore. Go figure.
7th grade was no better than 6th grade. This time, I was on the swim team, which I only joined because my brother swam in high school. I said in another post that I hated swim teams because I don't like being told what to swim and for how long and how fast, which is true. I hated swim team, for that reason and two others. First, I can't dive, so the start of a race was always the worst part for me. Second, I was really self conscious of my body back in middle school, but then again who wasn't? I've grown more used to my body over the years, and I'm more comfortable taking my shirt off around people than I used to be. Probably too comfortable, if truth be told. It's actually a clever defense mechanism. If I don't try to hide my body from other people, that is, if I act like I'm okay with the way I look, then people can't make fun of me for it. I guess years of acting like I'm okay with who I am has turned into sincere acceptance of my body, but there are probably some deep issues still there. Anyway…
So swimming didn't do it for me. Neither did wrestling in 9th grade, which I only did because my dad wrestled in high school. Are you starting to see a pattern? I only played sports because of other people, which is probably why I hated them (the sports, not the people) so much. Well, one big reason I hated wrestling was Andrew. He was the athlete I knew I could never be. And I got the sense that he knew it and was never going to let me forget it. He was kind of an asshole to me. But then again, I was kind of an asshole to him. And maybe I'm just projecting, taking my hatred of him and tricking myself into thinking he hated me too because, if I'm being honest, I hated myself as much as I hated anyone else. Maybe I'm being too strong. Maybe hatred is too strong a word. I've gotten to know Andrew over the years in small group at church, and I know him well enough to know that he's trying to be a good person, so I shouldn't judge him too harshly. But a part of me has never been able to get past 9th grade wrestling. If you haven't picked up on it yet, I have some deep psychological issues and problems from my childhood that I haven't ever really been able to confront. But going back to wrestling, I knew I wasn't going to do it for much longer after I got pinned in 11 seconds in my only varsity match. Also, that's really the only time in my life I can point to and say I was definitely bullied. But, strangely enough, that never seemed to bother me.
It wasn't until 10th grade that I really hit my stride, sports-wise. I had decided I wasn't going to wrestle again, and I was looking for a sport to get me out of PE. And then, over the summer, I watched all six Star Wars movies in a row and decided I was going to fence. And let me tell you, fencing is one of the best decisions I have ever made. First of all, it was the only sport I stuck with, doing it sophomore through senior year. And it was so much fun! I got to sword fight people!
Many of my fondest memories from high school come from the fencing team. Like lining up all the new 7th grade fencers in the center of the gym and singing "I'll Make A Man Out Of You" before actually teaching them anything. Like the time I got a yellow card in a match for making lightsaber noises. Like the time I looked my opponent in the eyes and said, "Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." Like the time Drew, Ben, Elizabeth, Katherine, Steven, and I all went over to Elizabeth and Katherine's house and watched Tangled, which became a tradition for us. Like the time Drew, Ben, Elizabeth, Katherine, Steven, and I all want trick-or-treating. Like the time Coach Brad gave me a piggy back ride during my last tournament. Like the time Brad kicked Utkarsh and me out of practice for wrestling and messing around, so we went in the baseball training room and roughhoused for an hour. Like the time I visited campus last Christmas break and Abigail freaked out and ran over to me and gave me a huge bear hug.
I've some to realize that I loved fencing so much because I wasn't doing it for anyone else. I was doing it for me. And I wasn't worried about getting better; I was only worried about having fun. Even though I was never any good, that didn't bother me because I was fencing for me.
Sports have never been my thing. Even watching them. I've always been a little intimidated by people who can analyze games while watching them and have a huge store of statistics that can call up at any time during any play because I've never been able to do that.
So it should come as no surprise that playing sports has never been my forte either. I never really enjoyed sports, which sometimes makes me wonder why I ever played them at all. Aside from intramural and church leagues in elementary school, the first real competitive sport I played was for my 6th grade football team, the PDS Crusaders. The Crusaders had been undefeated for a number of seasons prior to ours, so there was considerable pressure on us. Not that that made much of a difference to me, like I said I've never been that competitive. I guess the only reason I joined the team was because it was the cool thing to do. My school wasn't cliquey at all, but everyone knew who was on the football team, and that accorded them at least some measure of respect. So I didn't really care how we did; all I cared about was that people knew I was on the team. Pretty shallow, right?
I think I only got on the field for one play. I was like 3rd string tackle or something, but in one game against Briarcrest I got put in on a kickoff play. Man, I got lit up. Not that I expected anything different to happen, it it was still pretty embarrassing. I would have played a second play, this time in the championship game, also against Briarcrest, but I was too busy talking to my friends, and I didn't hear Coach Fruitt call my name. Briarcrest was actually the only team we lost to that year, both in the regular season and the championship game, ending our undefeated streak. I still remember the car ride home, sitting next to my dad, trying to hold the tears in, which I actually did. I told myself that I would cry when I was alone in my room, but I found out to my surprise that when I got there I didn't want to cry anymore. Go figure.
7th grade was no better than 6th grade. This time, I was on the swim team, which I only joined because my brother swam in high school. I said in another post that I hated swim teams because I don't like being told what to swim and for how long and how fast, which is true. I hated swim team, for that reason and two others. First, I can't dive, so the start of a race was always the worst part for me. Second, I was really self conscious of my body back in middle school, but then again who wasn't? I've grown more used to my body over the years, and I'm more comfortable taking my shirt off around people than I used to be. Probably too comfortable, if truth be told. It's actually a clever defense mechanism. If I don't try to hide my body from other people, that is, if I act like I'm okay with the way I look, then people can't make fun of me for it. I guess years of acting like I'm okay with who I am has turned into sincere acceptance of my body, but there are probably some deep issues still there. Anyway…
So swimming didn't do it for me. Neither did wrestling in 9th grade, which I only did because my dad wrestled in high school. Are you starting to see a pattern? I only played sports because of other people, which is probably why I hated them (the sports, not the people) so much. Well, one big reason I hated wrestling was Andrew. He was the athlete I knew I could never be. And I got the sense that he knew it and was never going to let me forget it. He was kind of an asshole to me. But then again, I was kind of an asshole to him. And maybe I'm just projecting, taking my hatred of him and tricking myself into thinking he hated me too because, if I'm being honest, I hated myself as much as I hated anyone else. Maybe I'm being too strong. Maybe hatred is too strong a word. I've gotten to know Andrew over the years in small group at church, and I know him well enough to know that he's trying to be a good person, so I shouldn't judge him too harshly. But a part of me has never been able to get past 9th grade wrestling. If you haven't picked up on it yet, I have some deep psychological issues and problems from my childhood that I haven't ever really been able to confront. But going back to wrestling, I knew I wasn't going to do it for much longer after I got pinned in 11 seconds in my only varsity match. Also, that's really the only time in my life I can point to and say I was definitely bullied. But, strangely enough, that never seemed to bother me.
It wasn't until 10th grade that I really hit my stride, sports-wise. I had decided I wasn't going to wrestle again, and I was looking for a sport to get me out of PE. And then, over the summer, I watched all six Star Wars movies in a row and decided I was going to fence. And let me tell you, fencing is one of the best decisions I have ever made. First of all, it was the only sport I stuck with, doing it sophomore through senior year. And it was so much fun! I got to sword fight people!
Many of my fondest memories from high school come from the fencing team. Like lining up all the new 7th grade fencers in the center of the gym and singing "I'll Make A Man Out Of You" before actually teaching them anything. Like the time I got a yellow card in a match for making lightsaber noises. Like the time I looked my opponent in the eyes and said, "Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." Like the time Drew, Ben, Elizabeth, Katherine, Steven, and I all went over to Elizabeth and Katherine's house and watched Tangled, which became a tradition for us. Like the time Drew, Ben, Elizabeth, Katherine, Steven, and I all want trick-or-treating. Like the time Coach Brad gave me a piggy back ride during my last tournament. Like the time Brad kicked Utkarsh and me out of practice for wrestling and messing around, so we went in the baseball training room and roughhoused for an hour. Like the time I visited campus last Christmas break and Abigail freaked out and ran over to me and gave me a huge bear hug.
I've some to realize that I loved fencing so much because I wasn't doing it for anyone else. I was doing it for me. And I wasn't worried about getting better; I was only worried about having fun. Even though I was never any good, that didn't bother me because I was fencing for me.
Thursday, May 1, 2014
The Beginning(?) of My Life Long Obsession with Music
Isn't it so annoying when parents are right?
When I was in elementary school I started taking piano lessons from our Instrumental Music teacher, Mr. Bill McMath. Mr. Mac was always the fun teacher; at least that's how I remember it. Much more so than Mrs. Sutherland, the regular music teacher. Instrumental Music days were always fun, especially the times we worked with the pianos. Not to say that any of us knew how to play, except Elliot. But, then again, Elliot was good at everything. Us normal folk mostly enjoyed playing different chords. There were a few of us in my grade who could play guitar, though.
I guess that's why I got into piano in the first place. My mom managed to convince me that being able to play piano would be cool since no one else could, which, looking back, I recognize as a really flimsy argument. But whatever.
I don't remember most of the lessons. What I remember most is hating having to practice. I probably hated it most because my mom was there telling me what to play and how to play it, rather than letting me practice and play on my own. That's always been a huge hang up for me. I like to let my creativity flow rather than being restricted to a certain piece of music I don't want to play. That's also the reason I never joined the swim team. I don't like being told how to swim and for how long and how fast. I also can't dive, but that's not important. Also, the piano was super easy to hear throughout the house, so whenever I started playing my mom would rush upstairs to watch and critique me.
Sitting in that big empty playroom with just that old piano, which my grandmother got from her mother or aunt or something. Not that that made any impression on elementary school me. Looking up at the pictures on the wall in front of me. They were some paintings or drawings or something of the Vanderbilt campus where both my parents went to college. All I remember thinking was that this one section of hedge outside one building looked like an airplane. The big round window looking out onto our cove. That's what I remember.
I remember playing as the students filed in for Wednesday chapels, alternating weeks with Elliot. I played Star Wars. Elliot played Fur Elise. Douche. I guess it's not his fault, though. It's much more my fault that I didn't put the effort in to practice.
I also remember the day I decided to quit. I think I decided it on the drive over to school for lessons one day. I had had enough. I'm not proud of it, but I've always had a tendency to give up when things get hard. That's why I quit piano; that's why I almost didn't become an Eagle Scout. But my parents told me I wouldn't get my driver's license until I got Eagle. It worked. But the threat of not getting a driver's license wouldn't have worked in 5th grade.
I don't remember what piece I was supposed to be working on, but I hadn't done any practice. I still remember walking to the classroom that day, trying not to touch any of the red tiles on the multicolored checkerboard floor. Every day it was a different color. Sometimes red, sometimes blue, sometimes yellow. Yellow was the hardest. There were a lot of yellow tiles. Anyway, when I walked in to Mr. Mac's classroom I told him I wanted to quit. Just like that, without any context or reasoning. He spent the whole hour trying to talk me out of it, but I wasn't having any of it. He told my mom what i had decided when she came to pick me up. Of course she tried to talk me out of it too. I remember her telling me that I would regret it when I got older, not being able to play an instrument. But eventually they both let me quit.
I've come to understand the truth of my mom's words. Sort of. One thing I wasn't able to give up about piano lessons was that it had instilled in me a love of music, both listening to it and creating it. And I've always had an excellent memory, especially remembering things I hear. That's why spouting off huge chunks of movie dialogue has never been an issue for me. Neither has been remembering song lyrics. So if I couldn't play music, I decided I was going to sing it. I probably sucked at it when I was younger, but I've gotten better over the years. And singing has become my greatest passion in life, apart from Jesus. I still consider it my greatest failing in high school that I don't get on our a cappella group, Beg To Differ. Those guys are awesome. And I wanted so badly to be a part of that. That's the biggest reason I joined Frog Corps this year.
But anyway, although I loved singing, I was never able to play any of the songs I was singing. My best friend, Tripp, could though. His entire family is like musically engineered, or something. He taught himself to play the piano. And guitar. And bongos. OK, that last one's not that impressive. He even writes his own music. So does my big, Andrew O'Brien. All I can do is play a few chords from Dueling Banjos on guitar. And I've always been a little jealous of them. That's probably a big part of the reason I've decided to learn to play the banjo this summer, but if experience is anything to go by I'll quit before the summer is over. I hope I don't, though. We'll see.
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