We visited a museum that boasts a faux news studio. Everyone and his/her dog could pretend to be a newscaster, reading from the teleprompter and all. Although the place was mobbed by a gaggle of 12 year olds, I–an old lady by their standards–
clawed my way to my rightful place in line patiently awaited my turn; when it was time, I giddily climbed onto the tiny mock stage.
The museum attendant thrust a microphone in my hands and pointed to the “x” where I was supposed to stand. Suddenly words started flying across the teleprompter at what seemed like warp speed.
I had a promising start. Dropping my voice an octave or two, I recited in a business-like, yet sultry tone, “Today, in the nation’s capital, there was an important vote…”
Then I caught outta the corner of my eye my kids essentially twerking (although they’ve yet to know that’s a real thing; if shaking one’s tush is the main move in the dance, my kids have been twerking since they were about two).
Witnessing their twists, turns and thrusts, I did what any professional newscaster would’ve done in that situation: I laughed.
There was no catching up with the teleprompter after that; and of course, as children are wont to do, once they saw that their silly behavior was making me lose it, they just did it with more gusto and increased frequency.
When I stepped off the stage, my attempt was broadcasted on screens around the room for all to
giggle at see.
One of the 12 year olds tapped me on the shoulder and said,”Yo, you better keep your day job.”
He’s probably right.
(#)$*@)# Brat. What an observant child.
Each day of 2014, I’m
forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.