Typewriter

  When I think of the word "typewriter", many things come to mind.  The first thing I ever wrote was on a Royal typewriter.  It was a TV commercial for a cereal, when I was five.  The ad agency said I showed promise, but they wouldn't use it.  My father had to show me which buttons to press on the typewriter. Later, my parents gave me a typewriter for a high school graduation present.  It was a Smith-Corona manual typewriter.  I used it until it finally gave out in the 2000's.  I wrote a lot of papers on that typewriter, and I learned how to edit my typing by thinking a couple of sentences ahead.  I even took a typewriting class at a local business school.  I was never really fast and just ended up typing with four fingers. 

 My mother wanted to sell our old Royal typewriter to a college student.  They had acquired it probably back in the 1940's or maybe earlier.  It was really an antique, but she felt that someone else could use it.  She put a notice on the bulletin board at Carolina and that she wanted $20 for it.  This was back in the 1980s.  An Indian student called her and expressed an interest in the typewriter. They agreed to meet in the lobby of a downtown hotel to finalize the transaction.  I went with Mother to the hotel.  

 At the appointed time, the student arrived to look at the typewriter.  He wasn't impressed with it.  In fact, he told her that it was something he didn't expect to see.  The boy said he would give her $10.  My mother was a little miffed, because she thought they had a deal at $20.  Just then, a local TV personality named Joe Pinner walked into the hotel on the way to the dining room for lunch.  My mother said, "Well hello Joe"! She didn't really know him, but she watched him on TV and felt like she knew him.  Joe graciously replied, "Hello, my dear".  The Indian boy's mouth dropped open.  He knew who Joe Pinner was, and he assumed that my mother knew Joe.  The boy gave my mother the $20 and went away impressed.

 Years later, I told Joe that story. I told him that he was responsible for my mother selling the typewriter.  We laughed about it, and he said, with a smile on his face, that he wanted a commission for the sold typewriter.  Whenever I would see him out and about, he would ask me where his commission was?  Then, we would laugh once again.  Thanks, Joe.

Teachers

  Whatever you think is what you want to do in life, a teacher can come along and steer you into another direction.  You may not even realize it at the time, but they can be more objective that you and see talents that you might not even know about.  I have written about my Drama teachers before, as they related to a school I was attending, but I wanted to take this story to feature them all together as a steppingstone to better days.

 Catherine Eaker was at Columbia College.  I was part of a group of high school students from all over Columbia who were chosen to take college-level courses in Theatre and then put on a play.  To this day, I still don't know why I was selected.  The only Drama I had done to that point were a couple of Christmas plays in school.  I learned a lot from her.  She taught me how to work with an ensemble and be believable in my character.  After I got grown, she invited me back to do a Children's play at Columbia College, where I had the lead.  It was a terrifying experience, but she saw that I could do it well.  She was always patient with me, and she put me on that road to better days.

 Everett Vivian was the Speech and Drama teacher at Anderson College.  By the time I got to college, I wanted to major in English and be a writer, but a twist of fate got me into their Drama program.  To be perfectly honest, I felt I knew more about Theatre than him, but he was a good director and got be involved in pretty much everything related to Speech and Drama.  I did learn something about backstage work from him, and also that one doesn't have to do the lead role every time.

 Dale Rains was my Drama teacher at Presbyterian College for my junior year.  I had come into PC from Anderson as being the best in my class.  When I got Dr. Rains, I found that there were actors as good as me or better.  I had to wait my turn to go on the stage and show what I could do.  I did backstage work on two productions, before he let me do my thing.  He taught me a lot about character development.

 Skelly Warren was my Drama teacher at PC for my senior year, as Dr. Rains went on sabbatical.  Skelly was a disciplinarian, which didn't sit well with a lot of us Theatre students who were more free-spirited.  He did teach me about concentration and blocking out everything around you.  He also taught me a valuable lesson.  If you know that you are perfect for a part, you may find out that the director has other plans for you and give you another role that is better.  

 Paula Brooks was my Communications teacher at Southwestern Seminary.  She mostly focused on public speaking, but we worked together to do Religious Drama.  She got permission from the seminary to do a Communications major, and I was the first person to do that.  She and I developed the courses needed for that major, and we did four presentations during my time at that school.  

 In each case, my teachers propelled me forward to do better and to learn more.  They have gone on to Heaven, but I relish the time I had with each one to make me a better actor.  And, I can feel their presence in my heart and mind in making me the best person at what I do in my life.

Question

  I have been struggling with a question:  Who Am I?  It is pretty easy for someone to answer that question about me, but it is very difficult for me to answer it about myself.  It really depends on who you ask, and what part of my life have they known me.  I have friends from 60+ years ago, and some I have recently met.  I hate first impressions.  I also hate assumptions.  For those who have known me a long time, they may not know everything about me.  I have tried for the last ten years, that I have been writing my life story on this blog, to explain who I was and am now.  By devoting the majority of my life to creating a persona that people will like, it makes it very complicated for me to know who I really am as a person.  Some of that persona involved masks.  Some of it involved being different characters.  Some of it involved not being true to myself and others.  So, let's peel back the onion that is my life.

 Some have seen me as a churchgoing person.  I grew up in the church from the day I was born, literally.  My father was a minister, and my mother was a Sunday School teacher.  That part of my life afforded me with some opportunities that others didn't have.  I guess you could say I was blessed to have a family like I had.

 I was also a hippie.  I was an anti-war activist during the Vietnam War era. Just ask the FBI and CIA about that. I did drugs and got drunk a lot.  There were times that I don't know how I got home or how I didn't get arrested.

 I was (and still am) a writer.  I wrote commercials, poems, dramas, short stories, a partial novel, puppet shows, songs, and some blogs.  In many ways, those things were an escape for me from the hardships of life.  I also found that I could communicate to others in a meaningful way.  

 Some people perceived me as a great actor.  I am not going to argue that impression of me.  I can't do that much anymore due to my loss of stamina, but it also helped me escape into a character other than myself.  

 Thanks to learning a trade, I became a retail genius.  Everything I touched and sold in retail stores was a success.  My bosses liked me for doing it, but maybe not enough to pay me for what I was worth to them.  

 There are some things I am not proud of.  I hurt some people.  I could not have a real relationship with women, because I was afraid of commitment. I lied to people.  I spread rumors about people.  I was undisciplined about my life.  I enjoyed pornography.  I sold bootlegged music and videos.  I had a rich fantasy life, especially when it involved relationships. I became homeless, although that was a good thing for me.

 So, who am I now?  I am an advocate for those without a voice in this world.  I am a political junkie. I sell collectibles (eBay, Amazon and Discogs).  I suffer from depression, anxiety and lung issues.  I am still painfully shy, although I try not to let that control me all of the time.  I am loyal to my friends, and I try to treat everyone equally.  Most of all, I am a Christian.  God saved me from killing myself 16 years ago, as He prepared me for my next chapter of my life.  I may be classified as poor economically, but I am rich in Spirit. He has given me humility and not take credit for any good that I do.  I know that I have some God-given talents that have made me who I am, as others see me.  He has kept me alive for a reason.  That is why I am now.  And hopefully, I can continue that for Him a while longer.