When I grow up, I want to be a box of crayons.
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I’d like to share with you the conversation I had with a man from Maintenance, on campus, this morning, hardly an hour and a half ago. Let me set the scene, for you: I’m teaching my Theatre Appreciation class, which is held each Monday and Wednesday morning in the small theatre studio, a few rooms down from my office. I’m in the middle of my lecture, standing in front of several large benches, set pieces for our upcoming production. My back is both to the door and the darkened stage. One of my students, who insists on being called Poonie May, suddenly...
I try not to abuse the privilege of a horn.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, family, humor, life
I like to think I’m a good guy. I know I’m not, but still…it’s nice to pretend. Heck, every now and then I even convince myself. I do try and go through the motions, you know, on a fairly regular basis: being nice, opening doors for the elderly, picking up the random piece of stray litter, speaking when spoken to, lending a dollar on occasion, offering gum…you get the picture. I try and do these things with some consistency. However, there is a very real part of my Daily Routine in which I flat-out, no-holds-barred hate people. And that part is driving. I absolutely hate...
A word about Free Enterprise and blood pressure monitors.
I found myself, yesterday, in the middle of Walgreens. I was comparing the prices of blood pressure monitors, and not for U.L. or a grandmother. I was purchasing one for myself. It seems I stay in a constant state of Stage 1 Hypertension, according to my third doctor's appointment in the last month. This, almost more than anything else, means I am now a bona fide Adult. Nothing says Welcome to Life like high blood pressure. I brag a lot about how healthy I am, but the truth is I’m only doing that as a means of psyching myself out. I know all too...
I’ve never had a mullet, and other Things I Can Brag About [...]*
Filed under: Deep South, education, Everyday, faith, family, food, humor, life, writing
![Link to I’ve never had a mullet, and other Things I Can Brag About [...]*](http://cleverkris.com/wp-content/themes/psm/scripts/timthumb.php?src=http://thecleverkris.com/files/2009/11/kris-jazzes-up2-150x150.jpg&h=250&w=250&zc=1)
* The full, real title is I've never had a mullet, and other Things I Feel I Have the Right to Brag About and also Things I Cannot Stand. Just, you know, FYI. You should know that what follows is a) a partial list only, and b) they’re not in any particular order of Cannot Stand vs. Brag. I would say to put your Big Boy Panties on and read carefully, but it’s odd how similar the things I can’t stand and the things I want to brag about actually are. I’m not sure what that says about me, but anyway – to be safe –...
For Lora…
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, faith, family, humor, life
I’ve been very fortunate to have remarkable women in my life. Blessed, above and beyond, I have to say; you certainly should be very jealous of me for this. You should be so jealous in fact that you stop reading this and immediately pull up a separate Word document and begin typing out your own list of names. Because, I have no doubt, you could list several remarkable women yourself. As a matter of fact, I think this is exactly what you should do. Go on. I’ll give you five minutes. I’m more than happy to wait for five minutes, don’t worry. Five minutes later… Believe it or...
Because hands can do everything but lie.
I don't always know what to do with my hands. You might find that ironic for an actor, even more so for an educator. But, it's still the truth. It wasn't anything I ever really noticed until a few years ago. I began to realize that my Nana was fascinated by the frequency with which I used my hands to animate my conversation. She would look less at me and more at my gesturing. Over time, I became so concerned with how I might physcially be telling my story that I began to grow flustered at the dinner table. I didn't know how...
The Dollar Bill Incentive, Or, Being Good For Nothing.
I was always an "A" student. I had a memory like an elephant. I never needed a curfew, and I went to church almost more than I went home. Yet, I was terribly, awkwardly naive. A bookworm straight out of the solid core of a ripe apple, I didn't read people as well as words, not until I was much older - and oh how I wish you could shut people up the way you do a book, one flick of your wrist and back they go on the shelf. But me, no, I never questioned authority, and let me tell you that came to backfire...
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