Never Let the Truth Get in the Way of a Good Story

Before I start, you have to understand a couple of things: 1 - I love radio and 2 - I work with kids.

More specifically I love the radio for the stories. There is something inherently better about stories when someone tells them to you; the stories breathe and have life where they don't if you are reading them. The person telling you the story brings with them all the experiences they have and emotions they feel when telling that story.

I discovered a radio station called The Moth. The moth is an organization of story tellers who put on shows around the United States. They record their stories and put them on the radio. The show quickly became a favorite of mine. With each episode, I was guaranteed three things: I would laugh out loud, something would make me cry, and I would learn something. The Moth has two rules: the stories have to be true, and you have to tell them from memory (no notes are allowed on stage).

The Moth lead me to the PRX (the Public Radio Exchange) and more so, the PRX remix app. The app brings you the best from PRX and the best thing is you can listen to up to an hour of content off line. 

On my way to work one day, I listened to a story from a mountain climber who was involved in an accident which lead to the amputation of both legs. The story stuck with me and when one of the kids said something that reminded me of that story, I told it to them. The longer the story went, more and more kids gathered around to listen. By the time I was done, there were 10 (maybe 15) kids around me waiting to hear how it ended.

Ever since that day, I have brought the kids a story and through that experience, I learned a few things.

First off, don't do comedy. In most cases, the things I find funny aren't funny to the kids and more importantly, it's hard to tell a funny story that didn't happen to you. Secondly, there has to be a risk. Nobody has to die or get hurt (in fact the best stories are the ones where everyone walks away), but there has to be some risk involved to heighten the stakes or the kids wont be engaged. Thirdly, the time between the climax of the story and the end of the story should be no longer that 50 word (10-15 seconds). Any longer than 50 words, the kids start to think there will be more action that happens. And finally and most importantly, NEVER LET THE TRUTH GET IN THE WAY OF A GOOD STORY! The stories I tell the kids are all true stories I heard on the radio, but if there is something I know will keep the kids active in the story, I add it. Or if the ending of the story doesn't work, I change it. I tell the kids, "Every story I tell you is routed in truth, but these are second hand stories and all I can do is try to portray the honesty to which they were told to me." 

I do my best to craft stories as they were told on The Moth, but regardless of how big the audience is, they should want to laugh, cry and learn something. 

Were Everybody Knows Your Name

I took a trip over this Easter weekend back to my hometown of Hampton, NB.

So on Saturday, I cleaned the house and packed up the car.  Nellie and I picked up Sarah from work and we were on the road. Sarah took the wrong purse from work and didn't notice till we were 20 minutes outside of Fredericton so we had to turn around and go back but after she got her own purse, we were on our way to a relaxing weekend away.

I love the drive home. I love hitting the road about 20 minutes before sunset. See, when I drive home, I make a trip of it. I take the back road and follow the Saint John River all the way to Jemseg then drive into the woods. When you leave Fredericton, heading south along the Saint John River just before sunset, the water sparkles and the whole world seems still. Everything moves slow on the back roads, everything except the cars on the highway. We drove into Cambridge-Narrows by dark. That far out into the country there is no light pollution and the view of the stars is spectacular. We followed the stars all the way back to my parents house.

While we were out and about in Hampton, I was stopped multiple times to talk about The Big Blog Exchange. As it turns out, the support is huge down there!

Monday afternoon, Sarah, Nellie and I made our way back up through the country to Fredericton.  Sarah had a bunch of school work to do so she got right to work while I unpacked.  She yelled to me when she found an Article on the St. Thomas University Website about the contest. As it turns out, THERE IS HUGE SUPPORT IN FREDDY TOO!

What I guess I'm trying to say is that there is a lot of support for this contest. Both my hometown and my adopted town, my university, my family and friends and friends of friends and complete strangers are just throwing support my way.

Incredible.

Thank you.

Please Vote Here

Read STU article Here

A Hard Goodbye

Towards the end of every summer, right around the end of August, I am faced with a really hard goodbye.

No, I'm not saying goodbye to summer. That's stupid. Summer is a season and thus I cannot talk to it.

I mean the pool. For the past 7 years I have been working at the Hampton Pool. I started as a part-time/casual staff when I was 15 years old and I worked my way up to the head supervisor in 2011.

Side note: I love the pool. I grew up there. I wanted to be the supervisor since I found out that it was a job.

Anyway, I have a real soft spot for the pool. When the summer ends, I am left with a big empty hole. A big metaphorical hole... in me. And a big real hole... in the ground. A big hole that is really hard to leave.  It is just really hard to go.

The thing is, I am never happier than when I am at the pool. The staff feels like family and they make work not feel like work. During the summer, I spend 9, 10, 11, 12 hours a day at the pool. What I'm trying to say is I really love working at the pool.

When the summer comes to the end, it is hard to leave.

Last summer I had two goodbyes like this.  You see, last May I graduated from university and I decided to grow up. Up until this point I had been driving my grandmother's van; she was silver and I named her Nelly-Lou. She ate gas like nobody's business and she was pretty much mine. But at the end of the day, she was still my grandmother's van. I had decided it was time to get my own car. So I had to give up ol' Nelly-Lou.

I got my car; a 2007 Subaru Outback named Sally. She is green. But she wasn't my van. If it weren't for the fact the I got my dream car (the Outback) I would have never been able to give up the van. It took some getting used to but I have fallen in love with my new car.

But I do need to say something to Nelly-Lou:
Nelly, if you are out there, I know you aren't reading this cause you are a van and vans can't read. Come to think of it, no car can read. Come to think of that, I think the new ones can. But that is neither here nor there. Listen, Nelly. You were a great van. You were such a great van that I named my dog after you. Well, she came with her name and it was simply coincidence that you share the name Nelly (although her name is spelled with an "IE" like Nellie NcClung from the Heritage Minute, not with a "Y" like the rapper). Nelly, you and I did everything together; we drove around, you got me from point A to point B, you moved me to and from university 4 years, got me (and others) to the hospital, late night food runs, and so many sleepovers. (For anyone who doesn't know, I slept in that van more times than I like to admit). Seriously, you got me through heart break, heart burn, and heart to hearts. You drove me crazy, and I... I just drove you. You were the first motorized vehicle I ever drove; you taught me how to drive. Remember those times I checked your fluids? Man, good times. Nelly, I hope you are out there helping someone else making that transition from boy to slightly older boy. I love you Nelly. Always will.

A couple weeks after letting Nelly go, I left the pool which could have possibly been the last time ever. I had that feeling again. The hard goodbye. I kept my keys though just in case I did end up going back.

And you know what? I am going back.

I am really excited to get back to the pool, but I do have that feeling again where my heart feels heavy. It feels a lot heaver than I thought it would when I am so close to going back to the pool.

You see, in order to go back to the pool, I have to leave my current job. I have spent the last seven months working at Boys and Girls Club in Fredericton. I'll admit there were some really hard times, but there were also some really great times. It has really been a blast hanging out and getting to know over 50 kids. It seems like I just got all their names down and now it is time to go. I learned a lot from these kids and the staff and I hope I made some good friends.

So, this is it. Thanks FBGC. It has been a slice!