Speaking, Hardware, and a Sense of Humor
March 9th, 2010When the speech contest official - usually the local head speech coach at what ever town the contest was in - would walk out with results in hand, the gym would erupt into cheers. As she took her place at the head of the room - usually flanked by a few chosen people next to a big table filled with ribbons, trophies or medals.
With much fanfare, each speaking category was announced and the top six individuals were called up and an award was presented with hooting and hollaring from the crowd.
When all of the awards were presented, each school was given a large envelop that had the judges comments - the critiques sheets.
As we climbed into the van after the award ceremony, each revilved in the triumph…or comisurrated in the loss. It was always a challenge because there was always a mix of the happy and the deflated on the van ride home.
It was my job on those van rides to provide the comedic relief. Driving to the contest, I’d be cracking one liners and telling the latest Ole and Lena joke. On the way home, some cleaverly turned phrase or some antic would get all but the lowest people laughing outloud.
Dispite the fact that on the way to the contest - my heart was pumping and my hands were shaking. In typical Northern Minnesota fashion, I would prepare myself for failure - hoping for victory, but knowing it may be too much to ask, after all, I was just a simple country boy.
On the way home from the contest, it was trying to discern how I could have medaled. Because, not to brag, but I usually left with a little hardware. There is only two contests where I didn’t walk away with a showing in the top three. But there was always a bit of that feel of the ancient Roman legend of Ceasar riding triumphantly with servant riding behind him, telling him that his glory was fleeting…
If we were really lucky, we would get to pass through Crookston on the way home from the contests and we would stop at Happy Joe’s Pizza.
It was the perfect tension releiver.
The pizza wasn’t just good, it was really good. The atmosphere wasn’t just fun, it was really fun. The ice cream at the end wasn’t just tasty - it was REALLY tasty. You could peer inside the kitchen to see them make the pizza through a glass wall - really!
As pull back into the school parking lot, with hardware in hand, I make my way back to the pick up truck. Cows still need to be milked, and while the speaking skills and the hardware won’t help with that…the sense of humor just might.