So, the surprise for today came at about 11am, when I found out I was taking the girls to “Book Night” at the Middle School.  Kathy was working late, so I was up.  No worries there, though I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect.

For her part, Christina was rather excited, which one would reasonably expect given the word “Book” was part of the event name itself.  Add to this, the idea that they were having a raffle that all the kids could enter to get free books… holy smack.  It’s like someone was giving away free… well… books.

Not to be outdone, Anna was relatively pumped up, not because she has a particular fondness of reading, but seemingly because they invited the Fifth Graders to be part of the night, and it’s probably one of the only times she can walk the halls of the middle school with her sister where they both, technically, are part of the intended audience.  We won’t have this happen again until their freshman and senior years of high school.

So, as the relatively clueless participant in the evening’s event, I asked for more information on what to expect and heard that it’s a pajamas thing for the kids (yes, it’s zero degrees out), there are multiple activities throughout the school (variety is good…), and there will be a professional storyteller there… Wait a second.  “What was that last part again?” A professional storyteller will be there.

A professional storyteller?  You mean someone who makes a lot of stuff up, right?  If that’s the definition, I think I’ve worked for a few of those over the last 22 years, not that it was their official  job title.

Actually, come to think of it, I think I could probably do that for a living.  I’m completely full of it, as anyone who knows me would clearly understand.  I’ve also worked in the consulting business for a number of years, where the more full of it you are, the more you can charge per hour… but that’s a separate point.

So, on the way over to the school, I told the girls how I’d probably approach the night if I had that job…

“Once upon a time, there was this dude.  He did a bunch of stuff.  Eventually, he died…. of natural causes, but he died.  The End.”

Ok, admittedly, that story is probably a little more towards the boys in the audience, so I’d probably (being a professional at this), shift the story to be more appropriate if it were for the girls…

“Once upon a time, there was a little princess. She was beautiful and she had a pony that she loved very much, and she lived in a big castle.  She rode her pony every day.   Eventually, she died… and that was kind of sad. The End.”

Again, being sensitive to the audience, there might need to be a more “grown up” version of my stories, so I’d have to adjust again…

“Once upon a time, there was a man who worked in a big company and he had many people that worked for him. He was not a very nice person and he did not treat people well.  The man’s name was Richard, but most of his employees called him… well, that’s not important.  Eventually, the man died.  His former employees did not all attend the funeral.  The End.”

Needless to say, by the time we reached the school, we were all ready for a good time.  Having the opportunity to rotate between different activities over the course of the evening, we saved the Professional Storyteller for last.

She told two ‘scary’ stories, the second of which involved a prison inmate who was trying to escape by befriending another prisoner nicknamed “Doc” who was charged with burying inmates when they passed away.  Long story short, the inmate wants to escape by hiding in the coffin with the cadaver and “Doc” eventually lets the person out prior to when they throw dirt over it.  So, right about in the middle of the story, I leaned over to Christina and said “the person in the coffin is going to be Doc.  She’s about to get buried alive.”  (Yes, it was a bit of a dark tale for Fifth Grade and Middle Schoolers, but I’m good with it).  Christina was a bit in disbelief, Anna didn’t hear me and had no idea what was coming.  Sure enough, that’s what happened.

Now, what makes this interesting is that I’m relatively sure that’s an episode of The Twilight Zone.  Assuming that is actually true, I think the storyteller is a fraud.  I know a lot of old TV show episodes, but does recounting those things qualify me as a professional storyteller?…  Maybe, maybe not, but I don’t think my original stories from two hours earlier were much different than what actually came from the professional…

“A woman was unjustly accused and found herself in prison.  She desperately wanted to escape and worked out a plan with another inmate who’s name was Shirley, but the other prisoners called her… well, “Doc” (it kind of matters here).  Eventually, Doc died and so did the woman, because her escape plan wasn’t so good.  The End.”

Professional Storyteller…?  Could be that I’ve found my new career.

-CJG 01/23/2014

UPDATE: I’ve done some research since writing this, and the story is from the Alfred Hitchcock Hour Season 2:Episode 18 “Final Escape”.