2/18/06

I was listening to the radio in the car the other day, sometimes I like Public Radio, and the fellow talking was a famous “Story Teller.” Now, I didn’t know there was an actual job description or even a job title let alone a famous person who is story teller. It was an intriguing thought.

This fellow said that a good story teller can tell the same story over and over and no one, not even the teller can tell if the story is really true or not (or something close to this if I recall). He went on to say, that once he was telling a story about when he was in High School, mostly true I suspect, and there in the audience was a man he’d been to school with, laughing like crazy. I imagine that confused him right there.

Now, this reminded me (for some unknown reason) of when my parents would go on trips and leave us (four of us) mostly alone. By mostly, if I recall, an adult or adult-like person would check on us from time to time; although I think more than once they just drove by the house to see if it had burned to the ground or not.

My brother is a crack up and when we were teenagers and our parents were gone, my, we had such fun. He was fond of dressing up, say as Bambi, the Jungle Guy or Captain American. I can still see him dressed in tights and shorts, dashing through the snow with a garbage can lid. His dismay and then anger at being locked out of the house in the snow. Or, hey, then as Bambi the Jungle Guy, swinging through the maple tree in the back yard...

More, next time, if I can remember.