51 Questions – Famous?

Time flies, and I've asked it to, as I remember every passing moment fondly I both eagerly anticipate the future, as well as regret the passage of the present.

The New York Times has an article about 36 questions to fall in love.  I'm counting down 52.  (I need the extra 16).  This week I'm on question Number 51.

Which is actually questions #2.

"Would you like to be famous? In what way?"

The first thing that comes to mind when I read this question is the line from "Young Guns 2" that said "I'll make you famous."  Having never seen the movie, I can't help but imagine he was a publicist, or a marketing agent… but I could be wrong.

I think I'd love to be famous, not in a Hollywood super celebrity kind of way, but in a "Hey, I read your book and it was great!" kind of way, or a "I saw the pictures you take, they're awesome!" or even a "Wow, your book stunk so horribly bad, I can't believe everyone in the world read it and it made 5 movies."

If I had to pick… I think it'd be fun to be recognized as a somewhat select group of individuals who appreciate the thing or things I do.  I definitely don't want super stardom (or superstar-dumb), but I would like to do something worth appreciating on some kind of massive level.  I'd like to be famous for either: Singing, Photography, Writing, Running a Business, or being the first to discover something wicked cool.

What about you, Would you like to be famous?  And in what way?

 

52 Questions – Dinner Guest

Once upon a time, on the 11th of February, the New York Times posted an article that talks about 36 questions that, if asked in a certain way, can drive two people to fall in love.  After careful calculations, I've decided that there are 52 weeks in a year, and so instead of going through 36 questions, I will go through 52.  Where will I be getting the additional 16 questions?  (I don't know) probably from you, so you'll have to ask.  But make sure you check out the original 36 so you don't ask something I'll just ask again.

Question Number 52 (because it's a countdown)

1. (I crack me up) Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?

 Is this "anyone in the history of the world"? or is it "Right now."  Because, if it's anyone in the history of the world, that makes it a lot harder.  I'd really enjoy a conversation with Adam… or Abraham.  Jesus, or Joseph Smith.  I have a walking world of questions, but mostly I'd just want to listen to someone who knows more than me about the things that matter most just tell me about their stories in their own words in a 'one on one' kind of way.  Would it make me believe more than I already do?  no… it'd just be nice to have that kind of company.

But let's pretend that's not the way the question was meant to be taken, it's anyone who currently exists in the world, and is alive at this time.  

… … … I don't know.  I'm not a big  fan of most famous people and would be bored by their stories.  Dinner conversation with the children is everything I want in life, and as far as I generally want to socially extend myself.  "You" is my answer.  Because I'd want to get to know 'you' better.  Or "Me"  To sit across the table from me might be a very enlightening (if somewhat disturbing) experience.

The Spelling Bee

Originally I thought to tile this "The Spelling Bee of Doom" or "Death at the Spelling Bee" but though they'd be very dramatic titles, they might misconstrue what actually happened at the Spelling Bee.

"It was a dark and stormy night…" in the morning, a typically warm and lame morning in the deserts of Arizona.  My son came running to me, "Dad!!!"  He was excited (that's why there are so many exclamation marks.  He had been chosen as the runner up for the school spelling bee.  In his K-8 he was #3.  Which meant he got to go to the county spelling bee, and if someone from his school didn't show up, he would take their place.  This was cause for excitement, and so he was excited.

Originally I was planning on just sending him with a hug and a wish for the best of luck.  But as I thought about it, late on another sleepless night, I realized that I could push some scheduled meetings aside and give him an extra ounce of my time.  Dropping off the kids at school my son was surprised that I told him I'd be driving him to the county competition.  (from !!! to !!!!!) it was a pleasant surprise, even more so because the kids he'd be going with were all in third grade and below.  

The drive was pleasant, a glowing smile on my son's face with the one on one time… a grin of both accomplishment and some level of fulfillment.  

When we arrived, he didn't get to participate, everyone who was supposed to come was already there… and he didn't mind.  "You know it's an honor to come, but more of an honor to not have to be up there." he said.  Then we (very quietly and respectfully) heckled the Spelling Bee from the back.

I was astounded, our jokes were hilarious, but not to be shared publicly; the difference between one child standing up and the next was impressive, several so young as to be in first grade, and everyone dealt with disappointment differently.  The shrug was the most popular reaction to the bell, occasionally a child was so caught up in their own world that they'd get back to their seat before realizing that the bell had tolled for them and they had to leave the stage.  There were the few that were so nervous as to barely be able to spell, stealing minutes from the show, while others took bare seconds to either get it wrong or get it right.  

Then there was the Troll… the one who would stand, hear the word then ask "Can I have the word Origin?" then also ask "Can I hear it in a sentence?" and then ask "Can I have the definition?" then say "Please repeat the word." to which point I'd whisper to my son the next question "Can you please sound it out."  then when it would happen again I'd whisper as if I were a contestant talking with the judge "Can you please spell it for me?" (I bet they would have.)

Observations:  The random word generator is impressively unfair, giving one child a word like "Cat" and the next something like "Catheter".  Seemingly racist, giving a young white child Illuminati, and a young Hispanic girl "Sombrero" and sometimes just makes up words that don't really exist like "incunabula" or "love".  My son and I had a wonderful time, enjoying the benefits of shared time, quiet laughter, and a lunch snuck in between meetings.