When I was in 11th grade, we had a school activity where we were supposed to present "something we were good at". Now I really tried to ponder this (due to my insationable desire to over-analyze things). I racked and racked my brain for hours on this. And I coulnd't think of anything. As I sat there and listen to class mates talk about how they could shave, play basketball, do math and so on, I was getting worried that I was going to receive an F on this project. As I walked in front of my class with my "me > you" shirt (which I still think is clever but most people thought otherwise, I was still at a loss of what to say.
The teacher looks at me and asks "So Jon, what is it that you're good at"? I gave him a serious look and replied "After much consideration, I've come to the conclusion that I'm good at everything". Mr. Kennedy gave me a "here-we-go-again" sigh and asked me to elaborate. I explained that while I may not be an expert at photo taking, I was good at it. While I may not be drafted into the NFL out of high school, I was in fact, good at the sport. And while I may not be qualified to write a book about picking up ladies, I was good at it (I backed the last statement up with my ability to wow out of town girls at the Mall of America). And I probably cannot make you a quilt, I was good at cross-stitching (an elective activity I learned at Field School in the 6th grade along with Dan and Ryan--we figured it was an easy A). So I went on about a few other things I was decently good at, and wrapped up my presentation. The teacher sat there tapping his pencil against his lip for a few moments before replying "Mr. B, you're quite sure of yourself aren't you"? I thought about it and said I was. He then badgered me about how nobody could possibly be good at everything.
So to prove my grade-worthy ability, I opened a challenge. Everyone in the class could pick a task, I would try my hand at it, and if I failed at the task, we could assume that I was not good at everything. If however I did not fail (only marginally succeeded), I would receive an A. This actually ate up almost a full weeks of English class. So to break it down, here were tasks I was good at:
Breakdancing
Beatboxing
Jump rope
Quadratic Equations
Jenga
Guess Who
Writing limericks and haiku's
But, there were in fact things I was not good at......
The Oboe
Dunking a basketball (though 5'5 at the time, it was no wonder)
Making things out of clay on a wheel
So the moral of this trifle story is that I have too much time on my hands......
One thing I wish I would have done in my life, was to win that SoapBox Derby race. You know the type: The big day is Saturday, if you want Suzie to like you--you'd better win, Banks McGee (the neighborhood bully) is also building a soapbox with oil spurts out of the back-spikes from the tires and weights in the front to go faster. **Sidenote** I think I will either make a short story about this odd past time, or make a funny movie this summer**
Another plan for this Winter, is to take a retreat. There are these one-room cabins in the middle of the North Woods. No electronics, no phones, no modern things at all. You heat them with a wood stove, eat basic foods, and basically spend 48 hours alone to reflect. For some reason it sounds really appealing to me. Nothing but silence, snow and the crackle of a fire stove. Maybe I'll finish one of these books....
And on a final note, why do we have SO MANY useless talents? When we were hunters and gatherers, we needed talents to survive. But as we've evolved, we've acquired talents and skills that mean absolutely nothing. How is juggling going to help me defend a lion in the wild?? Maybe I can juggle some yarn and he would be memorised, but more than likely, he'll just eat me.
Now some talents help us in day to day activities (like the talent of talking and persuasive writing). But most talents are pointless. Another example of pointless talents would be imitations. Sure they make for a fun Friday night after a few drinks, and you convince a Holiday Inn clerk that you are Tony Danza, but it's pretty worthless. But weaving a basket out of birch bark might not be the smoothest party trick.
**New goal--find some kind of natural talent that would come in handy one day**
Actually, this is the final note: The other day I'm going to sleep, and on TV is Ski Patrol. No lie. At 2am it was on. I had to watch it out of respect for a bad movie. And it really is a bad movie. I can't believe we never watched this on Bad Movie Night. I'm busy searching Amazon for it on DVD now.
I'm not really sure why I liked the photo of the kid who is drinking out of the bucket instead of the hose, but I sorta struck me as something I would have done.
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