The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘sister’

Weekly Wacko (32)

Unknown Knowns

You know the line about there being known knowns, known unknowns and then unknown unknowns? Well, unknown knowns are my favorite.

Why?

Because kids are so trusting. Suckers.

I don’t know why I love to be sarcastic with people who don’t know, yet, what sarcasm is – but it’s so much fun. It delights me to no end. Here I’m going to re-create a conversation, to the best of my memory, that I had one day.

A few years back my niece came into my bedroom when I was playing the playstation. She was bored and interested in me playing with her. I was interested in the Madden game I was playing. I decided we’d meet at a middle ground – not play, just talk.

But wait, that’s right, I’m an uncle.

This means I can’t just talk with her, I have to mess with her.

“Did you know you know Chinese?”

“No I don’t!”

She didn’t even bother to have me clarify, “do you mean Cantanese, or Mandarin?” Four year olds are so dumb. (Note: I don’t know how old she was at the time, but it’d ruin my joke line to include that clarification. Like you wouldn’t yell, “FORGET YOU! … Well, not literally forget you, I mean like … you know, forget this particular incident because I’m frustrated with you.”)

(Note: Maybe you would yell that, that’d actually be pretty good.)

“Yeah, you speak Chinese, you just haven’t grown into your brain enough yet to know it.”

“…”

“I’d guess you’ll learn it in a few years. Like one day you’ll just start speaking Chinese.”

“That’s not true.”

“I know! It sounds crazy” (we’ll pretend that I just got an interception, take that opposing team!), “SWEET! … but yeah … you know Chinese.”

“…”

“Fine. Don’t believe me. But you’ll see. I mean, how would you know something’s not true if you haven’t experienced it?”

“I guess that’s true.”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Come play outside with me!”

“Nah, I’m pretty busy.”

I don’t know how the conversation actually ended. But I DID temporarily convince my niece she would one day tap into some wealth of knowledge she hadn’t used yet – and as part of that she would suddenly speak ‘Chinese.’

*

Another proud uncle moment was when my sister and I taught my nephew the phrase ‘hoochie mama.’ We got him to say it, then when he finally did (it took a while, he seemed uneasy about us – us!, can you believe it?!) we would clap and smile big and yell ‘yay!’ when he would say it. This encouraged him, and soon he was saying it with pride.

Turns out his parental units did not find this nearly as funny as E$ and I did.

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Weekly Wacko (25)

Tomorrow E$ (the sister) and Pierre (the brotha’-in-law … cause he’s a black dude, get it?) arrive! We are heading to SOUTH by SOUTHWEST! I’ll try to post about that soon … I will eventually, it just may wait.

This Weekly Wacko is called ‘Do We Have a Clip? Let’s Show the Clip.’

My sister and I have our various talents. She’s a great people person. I’m tall.
One thing my sister and I are definitely great at is amusing each other. Probably more than I should admit, part of this comes because my sister is great at listening and I love to tell stories.
I mean – look, I have a blog dedicated to trying to get people to pay me to write down stories.
Vanity, I embrace you!

One day my sister and I arranged to meet with our cousin E (who has commented on this blog … because he’s awesome. But he doesn’t realize I’m a jaguar, so he’s slightly less awesome than he could be), and his wife L, for lunch.
On the drive to lunch my sister and I talked. A good idea came to us. I asked my sister,
“You know how on Letterman and other late night shows they always talk to the people before hand so they have these specific questions that lead to ‘spontaneous’ stories?”
My sister knew.
“Let’s do that!”
We each picked a few stories and had our go-to questions for each other. We would seem like such fun people!
“Boy! You guys are just so witty and fun and full of unique stories!” Everyone in the restaurant would say this after we finished our meal. You see, a few minutes into lunch people would all start to eavesdrop because listen to those story tellers go!
“Aww, shucks.” I’d say that as I looked at the bill, then at some of the other people in the restaurant, then back at the bill, then I’d raise my eyebrows, then back at other people in the restaurant.
Sandwiches are delicious. Free sandwiches are divine.
Didn’t Shakespeare say that?

We arrived and parked. A minute or two later cousin E and L did the same. Ready, set, lunch!
We took seats and began looking at the menu. After we ordered we began to talk, the usual, “so, how have you been?”
After we finished this we went into a temporary silence.
E$ sprung into action.
“So … I’ve been wanting to go to Best Buy lately.”
“Oh!” I said in a pathetic attempt to sound casual about it, “that reminds me …” E$ kept herself from laughing out loud, but definitely grinned big time.
I managed to keep a more straight face (remember, I dig the story-telling).
“The other day I was at Best Buy and I was just walking around and people kept looking at me when I’d walk by. I was pretty confused – why do people keep looking at me? I was heading back toward the bathroom when this guy says, “hello,” and I think he wanted to keep talking but I gave him a, “why are you saying hello to me?” look, then walked on by him. After I used the restroom I was washing my hands when I noticed. Oh crap. I’m wearing … a dark … blue … polo shirt. Like the exact same color as the Best Buy one …”
They chuckled. Not that good a story, but kind of funny.
“So yeah …” I continued, “someone probably got fired over that.”

Now, I want you to know, I included this story not because it’s that great but because this is a great idea!
Socially awkward people, cling on to this!
Go out there, grab a fellow socially awkward buddy, strategize, then hit the town! ‘Oh you and your friend are so funny! It’s like you guys sat around for a few hours and planned this whole back-and-forth conversation you’re having!’
Remember, it’s not lying if you change the topic instead of answering the question.

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Weekly Wacko (6)

When I was in middle school some friends of the family paid my family a visit. I got a very nice pullover jacket with “Notre Dame” written on the front.
My mom attributed my desire to go to Notre Dame to this jacket.
Really, I don’t know why I wanted to go there but somehow it made its way to the top of my list.
If anything, though, it was probably the movie “Rudy” (I’m only human).

Junior year of high school came and for spring break I was going to embark on the best, the coolest, the most exciting trip a seventeen year old boy can imagine for spring break!
A ROAD TRIP! With … My mom. Oh. And it was to visit colleges. Oh.
And we would be driving from Savannah, Georgia north to Ohio, then cut across to Indiana, then back down south stopping at 10 – 15 colleges.
Yowzers.

We saw a lot of beautiful colleges, Notre Dame included, and it managed to solidify its place as number one on my list.

I had, and was, taking all the proper (though ridiculous) steps.
I was stretched thin with my extracurricular activities – involved in so many clubs that I contributed meaningfully to probably only one or two. I volunteered twice a week, tutoring elementary school kids. I got good grades. I played sports. I was in JROTC.
I even had the ‘look at how unique I am’ angle on my entrance essay – I was a Military Brat. I wrote a life lesson learned for each state.

I took the extra steps, too. The ones not mentioned by stupid magazines or other people.
When people said, “oh, you’ll get in.”
I said, “oh, I don’t know … I’ve got my fingers crossed though!”
Clearly God/fate/karma/whatever would reward me for this.
By saying I couldn’t do it, I would, naturally, be able to do it.

A teacher asked if I got in, would I definitely go?
“Because I can get you in, but I don’t want to call in this favor if you end up not going.”
If I got in, I would definitely go. But I want to do it on my own!
I made a bigger deal out of this “dilemma” than I should’ve. I knew I would not accept my teachers offer, but I wanted people to know I’d gotten it as I was pretty proud of it.
I even called my brother to ask his advice – and I never spoke to him.
I declined my teachers offer.
While I do regret some big decisions in my life, this was not one of them.

I came home from school one day in the spring of my senior year.
My dad was not home. My mom was not home.
I went and checked the mail – hoping for acceptance letters.
Walking back – there it was.
Notre Dame.
I didn’t tear it open but instead thought of this: me sitting at the end of the driveway, the letter open and resting on my chest, and me smiling because I’d just learned I’d gotten in to my top school.
I do this a fair amount, I visualize something and then I feel I have to do it or I’m convinced it will be bad luck. Being crazy is fun, right?
I put the rest of the mail down inside, then walked casually back to the end of the drive way. I walked slowly because I pictured anxiousness as being bad luck.
I sat and looked around – it was a beautiful day.
After a long minute of trying hard to enjoy how beautiful the day was, I picked up the letter.

I scanned until I found whatever word to tip me off that I didn’t get in. Probably it was the lack of the word “Congratulations!,” or maybe just the lack of an exclamation point at all.
Then I read the letter, I mean I actually read it.
It said some nice things about a “tough applicant pool …,” or some such meaningless sentiment.
Stupid Brad.
Why did you tease yourself all this time? You’re not good enough.
I felt embarrassed for having been sure I’d get in.
It made sense, though. I didn’t get in because I’m not good enough and that’s that.

Eventually I got up and went inside.
My sister had sent me an instant message online.
I typed in, “I didn’t get in to Notre Dame.”
I don’t remember if I sent this or not, but I do remember that I started to cry then. This was a big deal for me at that time (I tried very hard, starting probably around the  time I realized it was not a “boy” thing to do to cry – to never cry).
I was disappointed in not getting in, disappointed in myself.
I am extremely confident in myself – I honestly think I can do just about anything. Anything I “put my mind to.” This is perfect because you can always say, “well I just didn’t really want it.”
I really wanted to go to Notre Dame.
So why, then, if I’m so great, did I just fail?

Just so you don’t think I’m prone to depression let me end this on a high note.
I got into other schools and ended up picking Southern Methodist University.
Here’s the important part I learned enough, and did enough enjoyable things to make it impossible to say if I would’ve had a better experience at some other school.
On the downside, I’ve never been as big a fan of “Rudy.”

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