Grumbling and Freshman Tossing

     
     I believe the truth in any story is measured by how much the teller thinks he or she can get away with. We are told stories from an early age ranging from Heracles to Paul Bunyan, and each of these tells not only the events of the characters, but also about the culture that the stories came from. The thing is, nowadays with the “pics or it didn't happen” mindset, storytelling has lost its way of tall tales and mythology, and has become nothing more than recreational journalism. Any anecdote that has an ounce of truth-stretching is immediately branded as complete bull. And that bothers me. Because truth-stretching, unlike journalism, is interesting. It's entertaining, funny, gross, frightening, sad, and a lot of the time, enriching.

     It's anything you want it to be, and I think the untrue parts of the story can tell you as much, if not more, about the person telling it as the parts that aren't falsified. But if you look for nothing but the facts, that's all you're going to find. However, if you stretch the truth a little to get across what you think the story needs, you end up with a lot more than journalism or straight facts could give you. And I know that some of you are all-too-cleverly saying to yourselves that journalism stretches the truth too. And to that I say: I don't care. If there is one thing I don't want this blog to be, it's political. However, if there's one thing that I want my readers to get out of this, it's to not lean on reality too much. You'll only get bored. And with that, I'm going to tell you the story of the time Spencer wrestled a bear.

     Completely kidding. To my knowledge, Spencer has never partaken in fisticuffs with a grizzly. However, if I'm wrong, I promise you that that story will be next week's post.

     I never really gave Spencer the description he deserves. I sort of painted him as a gloomy spiteful man, who doesn't talk much, and grumbles hate at people. While the latter is definitely true, Spencer really isn't depressing. If anything, Spencer is an example of how an emo kid can turn out to be a pretty awesome guy, as long as you let him grumble at people. I've tried to see if he could control his under-the-breath insults, but it ended explosively. Seriously, that New Years Resolution did NOT turn out to be a good idea.

     The challenge started around the time most New Years Resolutions are broken: A couple days after New Years. We were sitting next to each other in band, and this is basically what he sounded like.

     “Freaking..... grumble..... hate your..... grumble grumble..... break you in half.... grumble grumble....”

     “Man, I've never seen so much disdain for a reed before....”

     “It keeps squeaking!”

     “Okay, but do you have to vow to slaughter its children?”

     “Only if it doesn't stop!” Spencer played a few notes after some adjustments, but it didn't take long for the saxophone to start making awkward squawking sounds. “Gah!”

     “Just get a new reed! It's not that big of a deal!”

     “But that means it wins, Josiah! The reed can't win!”

     “I think you're breaching some Ahab-esque obsession here...”

     “Shut up!” Squeak. “Dammit!”

     “You really gotta work out some of these anger issues...” Spencer glared at me in a way that made me worry about my immediate safety, but after a couple seconds, he just rolled his eyes.

     “Fine. What do you think I should do?”

     “Well, let's try grumbling less. It can be your New Years Resolution.”

     “Isn't it kinda late for that?”

     “It's never too late for self-betterment.”

     “Screw you.”

     “See? You didn't mumble that! You're already doing better!”

     The next few weeks can only be described as scary. Instead of what I thought would happen: Spencer slowly but surely becoming a less angry individual, he actually got worse. Things that would normally just irritate Spencer actually made him violent, and I really had only myself to blame. I took away Spencer's only way of safely and peacefully venting, and I was reaping the consequences. Well, more the people he threw stuff at were reaping the consequences, but I was the cause of it. I just made Emo Hulk.

     The longer it stayed like this, the more violent it got. Small annoyances became unforgivable acts of war. Walls were punched, bad drivers were frequently flipped off, and children cried in fear of him. I knew I had to do something.

     Back in the music room, I caught him just in time to stop him from throwing a small Freshman at a slightly smaller Freshman. “Spencer!”

     “WHAT?!?” Spencer yelled, still holding the terrified teenager over his head.

     “Forget everything I said! Grumble your heart out! Grumble till you're tired of grumbling!”

     “BUT I RESOLUTED!”

     “I think you mean resolved...”

     “SHUT UP! AAAAUGH!!” Spencer got ready to throw, and both Freshmen screamed in horror.

     I had to act fast, but as always, I had no idea what to do. Then I saw it. Spencer's saxophone. I ran over, picked it up, and held it over my head. He looked at me in disbelief. “You wouldn't!”

     Nope. I wouldn't. “Oh, I would!” He glared at me for a few more seconds. “Put the Freshman down!”      We stared at each other for what felt like years. He was furious. I was terrified. Luckily, my frightened eyes can be mistaken for crazy eyes, so thank God for that.

     Then, just when I thought that all was lost, Spencer started to lower the now coarse voiced child. “Stupid little..... crybaby....fu...ing piece of..... taking my saxophone...... I'll break his legs......”

     I sighed with relief as a grumbling, normal Spencer walked over to me and took his saxophone from my hands. What followed was about an hour of the angriest Jazz I've ever heard, accented by awful squeaking. I guess he never changed that reed.

     I learned a lot in that time. If you take away a man's way of dealing with the world, he'll start to throw Freshman around. Also, I was the worst life-coach ever. But at least I was a good bluffer.

     Hell, come to think of it, it's actually pretty likely that Spencer wrestled a bear at one point. I'll have to check on that... See you next week!