The Art of MC-ing

NGL... and as modest as I am... and as many humble pies I can eat.... I'm good at MC-ing.  People ask for me.  They remember me.  It's even been commented that "the MC is like a 7th speaker."  Do understand... it's nature and nurture.  The art took years to refine... and there's been as many downs as there are ups.  

Quite recently... was asked to come back and MC an event I've done for two years, but skipped last year due to scheduling. I was initially hoping for another conflict and thereby, after back to back years of rejection, won't get asked again.  But as the skies opened up for a beam of light, my calendar was miraculously opened.  

Sat in a prep meeting yesterday... and was blown away at the level of intensity my co-MC is putting into this.  2-3 weeks out and there's already a script.  What really knocks me off my feet is... there's a website for dad jokes... so we can be funny.  I don't know if that's how I can be funny.  I don't know if I can come up with a script that far ahead.  I simply don't work that way.  

But who am I....? I'm just a humble servant happy to be tapped on my shoulder to help out where I can.  Now... for some eerie reason... I feel like I'm going to blow this (for my standard).  We shall see. 

Brown or Black

Every man... supposedly... should own two pairs of dress shoes.  Brown and black.  I've never given it any thought.. but more often than not, it was for color (and belt) matching.

This week at training, I noticed that 90% of the room, regardless of what color pants they wore, wore brown shoes.  I had black because I didn't want to pack another pair and thought "Black goes with anything."  Felt so out of place.  And then I did a google search to find out.... 

Swim like a fish and fly like a bird

Was playing Street Fighter on the Switch with SW... and typical smack or trash talking going back and forth.  Until he erupts with a "You swim like a fish, but I fly like a bird!!! CAW CAW!!!!"  #BOOM. That was pretty good!!  

Later that night... we were playing Beyblades in his room and I was finishing up a Dr. Pepper.  Normally, I would clean up after myself and toss it, but tonight, I messed with him a bit left it on the floor.  I can tell he was irritated, so I rage baited him a little and put it on his bookshelf. He then asked I get rid of it... which I promptly did... but he followed me to make sure I threw it away.  Hmm.....

I was gonna do something that night, but I got tired.  So next day... while he was at his friends' house, I washed it and hid it under his pillow.  No harm, no foul.  A little more ribbing.  He didn't get home till pretty late that night... and I was already in bed before he went to bed.  I'm guessing he didn't find it.... yet. 

Next day.... however.... I came home late cuz I had to make a grocery store run.  He wasn't home yet... so I snuck into his room to look for the bottle.  It was gone! He found it!! But where is it??? I looked under my pillow and other places... nothing.  No worries, it'll turn up.

So I started cooking... and first thing I noticed was... my PJ's were missing.  Hmm... coulda sworn it was where I left it.  All good... i'll wear my workout shorts.  Then as I started cooking... SW comes home from practice.  First thing he says was, "Did you go workout?? Why are you wearing those shorts??" I said I couldn't find my regular PJ's.... and then, I saw him try to hold a smile in.  

Oh gawd.... payback is a B.  Here it comes.  

I pretended I didn't see the smile and continued cooking.  3-4 times, he'll come downstairs, singing "Real American" trying to coax a response from me.  And I did the best thing/worst thing possible... I didn't bit.  I didn't get baited.  He was getting more and more frustrated.

Then after dinner... I went to our guest bathroom and saw my zip-up hoodie folded up with a piece of paper that said, "SWIM WITH THE FISHES."  Hahahaha... he really did hide my clothes.  I thought my PJ's would be in there, but it wasn't.

The problem now is... I'm perfectly content with not finding my stuff... but SW really wanted me to engage.  It got to a point where Joyce was pushing me to look for the things... to play along.  Ohhhh alright.  

One by one... I found things.  The bottle was now underneath MY pillow... with my toothbrush inside.  Pretty clever!!

And my PJ's were wrapped up.... in my shower stall with a piece of paper, "FLY LIKE THE BIRDS" on it.  Not too shabby!!!

He kept it fun... kept it safe... kept it wholesome.  But SW... the practical joker... has arrived.  Couldn't have been more proud.

The night ended with Joyce saying to me, "Honey... this stops now.  Ok?  No more."  To which I smiled, grinned, and nodded.... with my fingers-crossed behind my back.  #BOOM!