I’ll be the first to admit it: I’m horrible at the art of the English language (Now this is how you build a blog audience!) Am I an idiot or simply lazy? I’d say a little from column A and a lot from column B. Ever get into that zone while writing where it sounds great in your head, but your ogre-like hands fail to type your masterpiece correctly? Happens to me all the time. Probably happened in this first paragraph. How could a guy like me possess a college degree, you ask?
The answer is: oral presentations.
Mama didn’t raise no fool. If the written word was to be my nemesis, then the spoken word would be my ally. This is why I gravitated towards the performing arts. For some reason, growing up, presentations always outweighed papers and, luckily, I knew how to put on a show.
My greatest achievement was high school biology. The assignment: a presentation on reproductive systems in vertebrate animals (Translation: we had to talk about sex of animals with spines). Sounds boring. Not when you Hover-ize it (Trademark pending). Let’s just say mine was the only group to have Barry White playing and scented candles during our presentation. For 15 year olds, that’s pretty risqué. We knew the teacher had a sense of humor, and we could get away with it, but I needed to go all out in order to get a decent grade. Which led me to burst in the classroom dressed as a sperm (white shirt and pants with a tail and snow cap) banging into walls yelling “Where is she?”. Needless to say it is my best performance to date. Laughter, cries, faints, my fellow classmates knew they were witnessing history in the making. I’m just glad my teacher didn’t send me to the principal’s office. Thanks for being cool, Mrs. Anderson. It was because of my performance, and not my reliance on writing, that I got an A in Biology.
I took the easy way, instead of properly growing my brain to be a well-educated adult. But isn’t that the American way? So many friends lost, so many enemies made because of grammar. I see this blog as interactive. So, if you see a mistake feel good about yourself knowing you’re smarter than me. Or my fiancé missed something while proofreading. She doesn’t read this so I can blame her.
Until next time, nerds