This American Life

THIS American Life

I listen to a lot of This American Life. I enjoy the hipster stories, the tales of people who literally crawled out from under bridges, and the shear awkwardness, that is to be frank, this American life. As I listen to Ira ramble on about another random topic, another awkward moment, and another strange person I cant help but wonder, “how do you become one of those people?”. Not one of the people in the story, but one of those people that tell the story. How do you become one of those people that tells a story so compelling that other people are willing to take time out of their busy lives to listen to you? I think all of us have met these people on one occasion during our lives. My grandma is one of those people, she can tell a story and you can picture it like are there. There are the old standbys- my dad stuffing his pockets full of candy and eating until he is sick, and my grandpa stuck in the house rafters without a ladder, but then there are the every day stories- the trips to the doctor, the conversation with one of my cousins, or the train wreck talk given in church. When I was a kid I thought all grandmas were this way- anti cooking but fascinating story tellers with extensive video collections, that wrote music, edited photos, and slept in lazy boy recliners. As I got older, I realized that not all grandmas were like that, and that I was lucky to have her and her stories. And as I continue to get older I want to develop her talent for dramatic story telling. For now, I will settle on this blog, the grammar will continue to fail, the stories will continue to be mediocre, but people (all two of you) will continue to read this, because after all on some level you feel like you have to, because we are related, and you wonder if this blog is going to improve, and because like me and Ira you know one day there is going to be a gem that you accidently but sorta on purpose discover.