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Tuesday, June 8, 2010


I've never been much of a storyteller.

This past week, I shared some stories from others that I thought were absolutely excellent and ought to be immortalized (or at least digitalized) electronically. Creativity should be recognized and applauded, and my way of doing that is by selecting such stories that are worth remembering and putting the pen to paper, so to speak.

Yet while it is enjoyable for me to pay attention to others when they give their epic tale of daring do, I believe I have a challenge sharing stories with others. I'm not the type to stand up and get people's attention, and say "oh, you've got to listen to this!" I've always been content to let others get the spotlight, to be the engrossed and engaged audience, to ooh and ahh at the right moments in the story, encouraging the actor/storyteller to fully immerse themselves in their craft.

My own memories are hardly worth remembering - I think that the way I could tell something, like my college pledging experience in a fraternity, or my high school time spent TPing random people's houses at 3am in the morning, or my frustrations dealing with my family as a kid, hardly compare to "Well, one morning I woke up in a dumpster in Connecticut" or "This one time I went out for cookies and booze..."

Sometimes it feels like other people's lives are more interesting than mine. So I'll listen to their stories - and enjoy the exploits of the Pink Gorilla and the Swedish Swordsman while I'm at it.

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