Suffice it to say, I was spanked, a second time, OR The 100th Blog.
tweet thisFiled under: Deep South, Everyday, faith, family, life, writing
I didn’t get spanked, as a child…much.
U.L. didn’t really believe in that, unless you’d done some really horrendous thing, which I never truly did because God, you know, also rented a room at U.L.’s house, and so it was really hard to get away with much of anything between the two of them. And then there was Jesus. He was always like, Hey, we'll fix it later. I liked him the most. I hated that he moved out.
I’m not saying I never got spanked, kids being kids, but I tried really hard to be a good boy. And, for the most...
I’m made of sterner stuff than common sense, I’ll have you know.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, family, language, life, theatre, writing
I used to get frustrated when I'd be cast in a play, an old one written back, say, in the 1920s, a la Glaspell or O'Neill, and halfway through the play I'd come to one of my lines: "Egads, Helen! Don't do that with your teeth! The zipper's fine." Or... "Eureka! Eureka! I've unlocked the secret code. Now, the children may eat." I hated that type of diction. It was always difficult for me to comprehend who in the world would ever actually say these things. Even harder still when one of the words had a repeat. I had no idea how to even say these words. That is...until today. Today...
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