Writer, Filmmaker, & Procrastinator
I’ve been getting nostalgic regarding my childhood – like most people I think it would be GREAT to be a kid all over again; just to be so carefree, and wild! In this video I mourn over my loss of childhood, and also take a look at some old photos from when I was a kid.
Fun to watch, but the message runs deep for all of us!
A spot of unfortunate toilet trouble ended up in me coming to one pretty solid conclusion…that kids are weird, and there’s no two ways around it! I mean what would you have done in this situation I found myself in…
Every day is another lesson in straight up strangeness. I swear.
If you have a video request you can leave a comment, or send me an email – if it’s a cool/interesting idea then I will get to it as soon as I can!
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This internet age we live in is amazing; it brings humanity closer together, communication has never been easier, there is a wealth of information at our fingertips – and it’s true to say Storytime with John wouldn’t exist without it! So, what’s not to love about that?!
This guy knows…
Well…whilst I accept all of those points highlighted (especially the latter), I must say I’ve noticed one thing that the internet has well and truly ruined…and it’s a big one I’m afraid…
And that is, tall tales. You remember those? When you could hear a fact from your friend, who heard it from someone else, who heard it from his cousin’s ex-wife’s pet giraffe…and yeah, naturally by the time it reached you it was convoluted and contorted into a completely nonsensical story that no longer resembled anything close to reality…but still, it kept life interesting!
You would probably know at least one person solely renowned for being a “bullshitter”, someone who would tell “tall tales” and basically just come out with absolute tripe that no one could possibly begin to take seriously…but it was fun. and people would crowd around to listen anyway – dissecting the whole story apart, and picking out bits that may be true ,and bits that must be total fabrication…adding in what they had heard from various unconfirmed sources…and so the cycle continues…
Lies make the world a more engrossing place to be, let’s be honest.
Now what would happen these days, huh? If someone steps out of line, and dares to dream…has the pluck to just start waffling absolute garbage they basically know nothing about – some killjoy is certain to whip out their smart phone and Google whatever it is that has came into question…
“Ah-ha-ha, I have to stop you there…it says here that sushi is technically not raw fish as not all sushi involves raw fish”
That’s another reason I love kids. They don’t give one solitary shit about truth, honesty, reason, and logic. Much like myself. They can stand in the face of facts and argue ardently on a point they barely even comprehend – now that is dedication, now THAT should be admired! You see they haven’t matured, I guess that’s what it is – but let’s not consider it in a negative light…instead let’s herald it as a much more interesting way to view the world…
You see a child hears something, perhaps something serious and very grown up…and they don’t full understand it…so they fill in the gaps with hearsay, rumor, and their imagination…and what comes out the other end is sheer unadulterated brilliance!
“That can’t be…is…hmm…tell me more…”
Like today for example, I was talking to some elementary kids about the MERS virus that is currently causing hysteria in South Korea, and they certainly had a lot of errr, riveting perspectives on the whole thing…like how about this? One kid told me that he’d heard the MERS virus crawls around while you’re sleeping – and goes into ladies with baby bellies…eats the baby inside and then comes out to go onto the next unfortunate victim. Horrifying and worthy of a sequel film, but a great tall tale all the same…
But did I reach for the phone? No – I argued in the traditional sense…told him it wasn’t true, and that he needn’t worry. But he insisted he had watched it on the news, and had asked his mother who had added credibility to the claim…so that was that, there was no convincing the lad. So I admitted defeat, instead requesting he double checks his facts (you know, just in case!)
If there are any bullshitters still out there…then long may you live, and prosper – you add much to the tapestry of life, and I am sad to see your numbers dwindling.
This article is dedicated to my old friend in first grade class, who would tell me his father’s job was to be an Indiana Jones type figure who fought off villains and gorillas in some distant land someplace. I still believe you.
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Kids make me sick. And, no, not just uncomfortable, or a little bit queasy – but down right, pit of the stomach, SICK. It’s just something that they do that can turn that “thank God it’s Friday!” feeling, into “thank God I didn’t eat a large greasy breakfast”…let me run you through Friday’s events real quick ~
So I’m sitting in my kindergarten class, going through one of the books – most of the kids say that it is “easy peas” (they’re Korean so cut them some slack on the misuse of the phrase!), however one of the boys struggles with learning difficulties, so I’m giving him a little bit of extra help. That’s when I hear the long whine that I hear about 3000 times a day (approximately): “Teeeeeeeaaaacccccherrr? Oh, Teaaaaaachhherrrr? Teeaaaaachherrr! TEAAAA-“
“Oh my GOH…WHAT?”
As I turn in a fit of rage (but still trying to maintain a pleasant kindergarten-esque smile), I see a horrendous sight. A six year old boy. With his arms outstretched, a crayon in each hand, has the squelchiest sick ever seen ALL down his front. He stares at me without blinking. I look him up and down, examining the new addition to his teddy bear t-shirt, in sheer disgust. This most certainly was not in the job description.
That’s when I suddenly realise I shouldn’t make a big deal out of it, so I walk around to his table, with as close to a reassuring face as I can muster. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you, WHOA, WOW”, that’s when I almost slide over on the mixture of rice(?) and carrot(?) that is right by his chair. So I pull him up without looking at it again and walk him out. (For some reason he still holds his arms out, holding the crayons, as if crucified in a state of shock).
I explain as best as I can to the assistant teacher outside, she nods and hands me some face wipes. FACE WIPES?! Perhaps I had some on my face? Did he projectile vomit all over me? Maybe I am in a similar state of shock, so I don’t realise? Not sure…oh no, scratch that! She’s gesturing that I should clean it up with them. Fantastic stuff. Thank God, it’s Friday.
So as I drag myself back into the room, which we can now refer to as, “THE PIT OF STENCH”, the other kids are going crazy, waving their hands over their noses at a frenetic pace and squealing in weird excitement; accompanied with the putrid smell, it is all making me very dizzy. Anyway, duty beckons – so begrudgingly I kneel down next to the specimen, I don’t want to seem like I’m scared of a little bit of…“URGAAAH” I yelp unintentionally…I’d forgotten just how gross the sight was. Of course onlookers think it is hilarious…I force myself on, and get out a few of the face wipes (like seriously though, what the hell?), and attempt to mop it up, I am of course, ill-equipped, and the sloppy goo seeps over the top of the wet tissue and floods between my fingers, “URGAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
I am now convulsing and retching uncontrollably, gasping for fresh air, only to be met with more of the same foul odor – again, onlookers think it is the funniest thing they’ve seen since Despicable Me 2.
“What’s wrong Teacher?” someone sniggers
“Well…I think that should be obvious – I am wiping up sick with my bare hands” I mutter,
“What Teaaaacher?”
I go for a change of tactic and pick up some of the sturdy flash cards we have for vocabulary, by chance it is “meat” and “story” that will be giving me a hand. I crouch back down and scoop it up, using meat as a makeshift plate and story as a knife to scrape it on to. (I’m basically the Bear Grylls of the kindergarten classroom.) I then push them together like the grossest Subway sandwich ever, and walk out of the classroom trying my best not to look at the contents of my hands. The assistant gives me a look that says something along the lines of “ohhhh, I would have did it…you have done it already? Oh, okay! Never mind!”
I decided to keep the offender out of playroom time, we sat and played on my phone quite happily. I was hoping he would be some kind of prodigy and beat my high score for me. He didn’t. But I didn’t let that get me down – thank God it’s Friday, right? Right. After the playroom time is up we all skip out and BLURAAAAGGGGGHHHH. Round two, all on a carpet this time.
Back in class again. (WHY ARE THEY NOT CALLING HIS PARENTS?) And we are trying to take it easy, coincidentally we are writing and drawing about good manners, I ask the offender for an example of polite etiquette – he answers “sitting nicely?” It’s a great answer! Isn’t it funny how we can always give good advice to each other, but don’t exactly follow it ourselves? Anyway, I digress.
It’s getting close to lunch time, it’s one of those watching the clock days.That’s when round three comes in, it’s exhausting to even recall it. And it’s putting me off my coffee even now, two days later. But to say it was explosive would be an understatement. This child is like four foot or something and he basically has a river of vomit flooding from his mouth, where is it all coming from? I’ll say it like this, I had time to look at every kid’s facial reaction in the time that it took for him to finish. I could see this was scarring them for life. Good to know I wasn’t the only one.
I picked him up with one arm and grabbed his bag with the other. I then told the assistant to call his Mother, immediately. I don’t like to come off rude ever…but the new reservoir of sick that I had in my classroom was starting to distract the others just a little.
For some reason, he was still sat there when I returned from lunch. Whatever happened to three strikes and you’re out?! He wanted to play, and call me a “silly Grandpa man” when his vomit was probably still under my fingernails. Come on man, have a heart.
And that is why kids make me sick.
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Arguments with children…I don’t know why I even allow myself to be suckered in – EVERY SINGLE TIME. Perhaps it’s some kind of vague ambition to truly educate, and make a difference…so that years in the future the now fully grown child reminisces and admits:
“He was right! I’m so thankful he steered me in the right direction at such a young age…I will have to find him and give him renumeration in the form of a cash lump sum…after all I am now a billionaire thanks to him!”
Or you know, words to that effect. Basically I think there is a rather paternal instinct present in me which seeks to sculpt young minds in a positive way; perhaps impart some wisdom accrued from experience, and whatever else…I’m not saying I’m Yoda (after all my face doesn’t quite resemble a ballbag to the same degree), but I am certainly living with the belief I can create more Jedis than Sith…
Yeah…what he said!
But it’s not as easy as all that. There are always curveballs with children – you can’t ever take anything for granted, you can never just assume ANYTHING; how did you get ice cream in your eyeball? Why did you put my sunglasses in the toilet? Why are you about to jump out of the window? Why did you…well the list is infinite, so I’ll stop right there – hopefully you get the picture, which is that they are little maniacs at the best of time.
So how do you try and teach life lessons to those who would rather discuss smelly socks? Well with great difficulty, obviously.That doesn’t stop be from trying though, although it probably should – you see I have already had two separate arguments this week, each lacking in logic of any kind – but both ending in myself being ridiculed, and jeered for being an absolute moron (바보).
I had initially estimated both scenarios to be sterling opportunities to give some important guidance to the younger generation; the first being of the utmost importance (the plot of The Lion King), and the second a lot less pressing but still kind of necessary I suppose…(where babies come from)…
Concerning The Lion King, we were looking at animals in my kindergarten class…and then having a bit of a debate about which animals we liked, and which we didn’t – some people were big fans of snakes, some enjoyed gorillas, others tigers…it was an all-inclusive zoofest up in that classroom! Until I chimed in…“My favourite is the lion! He’s the king of the animals!” – cue tumbleweed, and bitter stares…should go without saying I immediately regretted voicing my stupid opinion.
“NO. LION NOT GOOD.” barked the entire population of the class…well, I was a little taken aback – but I reinforced my reasons which I felt were legitmate – “NO! NO! LION NO KING.”
I calmly asked them if they had ever watched the film The Lion King – they all nodded that they had – “you see…the film is called ‘The Lion King’ – because the lion…is the king!” I thought that I had put it across in a simple enough way, that the kids could surely rec – “NO JOHN TEACHER, LION NO KING!”
I should have just left it. I should have…I know I should have, but I didn’t. I lost my cool – “RIGHT…in the film there is a big lion, yes? And he is the king. The film is called ‘THE LION KING’ – because he is THE LION, KING! THE LION IS THE KING OF THE ANIMALS!” they glared back at me, all four of them…until someone broke the silence; “the monkey is king. Grandfather king.” – everyone began to agree, and nod frantically before suddenly breaking into laughter, and sarcastically patting me on the back as if to say “you were wrong, but never mind.”
YOU SERIOUSLY CAN’T REASON WITH THAT SMUG LOT.
The second argument came around today. And started off when for some bizarre reason a young boy asked me if I would rather have rabbits, or a rabbit. You get used to these seemingly inane questions when teaching kindergarten – and I find myself just answering without much hesitation or thought; “RABBIT! Just one…” As always with kids I was asked why, and I gave my reasoning which was that rabbits together have so many rabbit babies, and it can be like a mad house! Such a horribly boring adultish response, man I hate myself for even coming out with it, but nevermind.
“JOHHHHHNNN TEEEEEAAAACHER! SILLY, SILLY!” he crowed, in an imitation of the voice I use when they make a spelling mistake, or drop their snack on the floor. “BOY RABBIT, GIRL RABBIT OKAY! HAHA – JOHNNNN TEEEEAAAACHHHHERRR!”
He went on to explain in detail how stupid I was, and why I was wrong in every way possible – I was under the false impression that daddy rabbits and mammy rabbits fall in love and then babies are dropped off by the stork, or whatever – but Daniel educated me in the truth and totally opened my eyes to the fact that rabbits are only trouble when you have the boys together – that’s how you get babies after all…
“But Daniel…you have a Mommy, and a Daddy…where did you come from?”
His mouth fell open a little, and his eyes peered around in confusion…as I waited patiently for the penny to eventually drop. But it didn’t.
Instead he shook his head and yelled…“JOHNNNN TEEEEACHER, SILLY, SILLY”…and wandered off to get his chocolate milk, whilst chuckling to himself.
There’s always next time…one day…one day…
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I remember seeing the little warning notes on plastic carrier bags as a kid…something along the lines of ‘To avoid danger of suffocation, keep away from babies and children!’ And like most people (I imagine) I thought “DURRRRRRRRRR! Why must people constantly be told what is glaringly obvious?!”
Well…hmmm…about that one…
Today I wandered into a classroom to be greeted with a strange figure donned in a rough and ready hood:
The mysterious character had pulled tightly around the neck, and had been amusing others by sucking at the plastic from the inside, so that it moved on the outside for all to see…hilarious, and captivating I’m sure! But now the airflow had been cut off altogether, and the hooded individual was wailing in a high-pitched tone, whilst belligerently banging all over the room in a bizarre attempt to fumble his way to safety…
…I ran up in total worried parent mode, and very nearly exclaimed: “you fucking stupid bastard!” but I didn’t want to be a hypocrite, and simply point out the blatantly obvious. Instead I clawed like a rabid dog at the plastic of the bag, piercing through with my barely there fingernails…creating a mouth hole so the kid wouldn’t, you know…die! That’s when I felt the gross slimy breath on my hand, and the saliva build up inside…disgusting…but the whimpering had stopped, and had been replaced with a vague, rather awkward laughter…
But I didn’t find it funny at all, I know I know – total DAD alert – but I couldn’t help it. I just kept asking over and over; “why would you do that? WHY? What were you even thinking?!” and other questions of that ilk. Naturally I just got blank stares, as the daredevil/absolute moron continued to breathe like a wheezing old turtle.
I mean, this was the first time in all my years I had ever seen anyone disregard the rather well-documented plastic bag warnings and proceed to jam it over their heads, in a “haha – aren’t I dangerous?!” kinda way…I sometimes wish I could be down with the kids, and chuckle at these things along with them – but I can just see the news headlines now!
‘TEACHER CHEERED ON AS CHILD SUFFOCATED HIMSELF TO DEATH WITH A PLASTIC BAG HE PROVIDED. CLAIMS IT WAS “JUST A BIT OF A LAUGH” AND DIDN’T CONSIDER IT DANGEROUS.’
Long headline like, but I am sure you get the picture – it doesn’t read well! So I have to continue with the adult facade…probably for the best, just this once.
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I forgot to tell you all something funny that happened a couple of weeks ago…I guess I’ve been pretty caught up and busy with everything as of late! But better late, than never! Right?
You see the new boss called me in – and I don’t know about you…but in those kind of circumstances I go into a strange child-like freak out, where I rack through my brains wondering what crime I have committed, and pre-planning all of the excuses I will use as and when necessary…
“Excuse me…cake…which cake? Oh…that cake, no I don’t…hmmm…no I can’t really remember – but I know it wasn’t me.”
Problem is I go red, and sweat profusely whether I am guilty or not. Not ideal. I am sure that I would fail a lie detector no matter which ridiculous question was asked…
“Do you think the illuminati is a real thing?” Well, no I – BRAAAAAP – LIAR!
“Does eating rabbit droppings cure cancer?” No, how could – BRAAAAAAP – LIAR!
“Is Nicolas Cage the best actor ever?” This is getting ridic – BRAAAP – LIAR!
Anyway, that went off on a weird tangent for a bit…sorry! So yeah, I was called in to a one-on-one meeting with my boss…who told me I had received a complaint, sort of. You see one of the mothers had called up and reported that her child is having too much fun, and that has now became somewhat of a concern.
She has been saying something about her heart beating so fast, and being so excited it often feels like it is going to fall out! “Oh…so too much fun?” I queried, to which she nodded in reply. “So…we should…erm…have less fun?”
I was confused, and so was she…“ermmmm – no, no…but, errrmmm…yeah I just wanted to pass that on…just carry on, but…be careful?”
Fun kills guys. You should probably take care too! Everything in moderation – you don’t want to OD on it after all! Although if you’re going to go…that has to be up there with the best of em!
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So there was some weirdness today, as there is every day…actually it is so common place that I feel silly even reporting it to you – but nonetheless I will, as it got me thinking about something…
You see I was in the soft play bit of the kindergarten school, and had probably just fell down the slide, or been accidentally headbutted in the groin – when one of my students began to yell for my attention… “JOHNNN! LOOK. JOHNNNNNN! JOHNNNN! LOOK, LOOK, LOOOOOOK!” Well of course I span around, wondering what was so urgent that I couldn’t miss – you know, what was it that meant I had to drop everything just to gaze upon it?
I wasn’t disappointed….there little Daniel was – flailing his arms in a frenetic motion, grinning from ear to ear, eyes half open – as if the joy of the moment was too much to fully witness. There was no rhythm, there was no steps, technique, or order…it was just whatever feels good, do. And oh my was he doing…
I laughed, and he laughed…and the others laughed too, they didn’t join in – they just appreciated that he was having his own little kind of crazy moment, and he was having fun with it! And I thought it was amazing – adults are so restrained, and limited, and…well, let’s just say this – if I did the same thing it wouldn’t take long for the men in white coats to take me away, and sedate me for the rest of my life…how depressing.
I love to just let loose – and just be yourself…your true self – not the pretend one you show people…it’s unfortunate that people find it quite weird, and unsettling when you just go with whatever is lurking in your head. Like on a date this Sunday I found myself laughing out loud quite literally – a thought I’d had crept into my head, and forced this reaction…then I had to explain myself to someone who really didn’t get what I was talking about – never mind find it funny…
“You see…well…the sections of that store – they have like…the BODY section, weirdly close to the HAIR section. So it looks like the BODY HAIR section, hahahaha…at a beauty store, haha…yeah, like…body hair – you know? Body…erm…hair…yeah…”
“There’s nothing funny about that. At all.”
And that was me put in my place. She was right of course, I suppose that should have just stayed in my head along with a bunch of other things I find myself saying, and doing – but it just gets so congested in there sometimes – it’s not surprising some hop out almost against my will!
I wish we lived in a world where we could just say, and do what we liked (as long as it didn’t hurt anyone else)…kids get an out. Where’s ours? And when did I trade it in – I don’t remember that at all…
First sneak peek of the new Ghostbusters reboot! Looks like they took things a different way this time around…
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Was reminded of this childhood memory by Melanie, after my previous post regarding childhood lies!
When I was in primary school, like most kids my age – I used to love The Power Rangers. The kicking, the punching, the flipping, the monsters, and the explosions…I mean, the whole package appealed really. So it wasn’t a rare sight to see me, and a couple of friends acting out crazy fight scenes in our school break times! We’d be jumping out of trees, doing killer rolls…the whole works…basically just battling evil wherever we found it…
And we didn’t skimp on any of the realism…oh no…we’d be using elaborate formations, working together to beat these savage creatures which had every intention of taking over the world. We’d jump in, one by one; “HIIII-YAHH! HUHH! PAAAH! KAPOWWW!”
It often took a few hits, especially if our foe was one of the big bosses – but we always, always triumphed…I mean, we’re The Power Rangers, we’re only ever going to win – that’s kinda the whole deal.
But one of these bouts stands out…you see, one of them was very, very different…
Which is odd, because it started out very much the same; we fought over who gets to be who, and then fought again over who gets which stick…just the same as every other time – but after these usual formalities, we were able to continue with our normal crime-fighting ways as per! …but this truce wasn’t to last – and before we knew it we found ourselves arguing over something else…something which hadn’t ever been an issue before…
“YOU JUST SAID A SWEAR WORD!!!” protested one of my so called Power Ranger colleagues – wagging an accusing finger in my general direction.
“No…no, I didn’t!” I argued, unsure of what he was referring to. I assumed he had misheard one of my amazingly realistic “SHIPOWWWW!” sound effects as something more menacing. So I pleaded my case, I was innocent GODDDAMITTT!
“NO. NO. NO. I’M TELLING.” He smirked out the side of his mouth…the grin sent my blood boiling – did he really think I had swore, or was he just trying to fuck with me? I wasn’t sure…but for once, I hadn’t actually done a thing! So I tried to grab him, I had to keep him from spreading his lies – his arm alluded my clutches, and I found myself pulling desperately on his empty jumper sleeve…but with one big yank, he was free – albeit with a stretched bit of material that was now twice the length…
“YOU FUCKING BACK-STABBING PIECE OF SHIT!” I screamed after him, as he ran towards the classroom. Well obviously I didn’t really say that; I was eight or nine – so it was more likely I said “GET LOST, YOU BUM HEAD!” Which roughly translates to the same thing.
I ran away in the opposite direction, hoping that this would somehow make all of my problems go away – or at the very least bide me some time. It didn’t work. Before long I found myself in front of my teacher Mrs. Mc.Dermott…she was usually so friendly; she always appreciated my artwork – even the ones using paint which I constantly messed up. But she wasn’t friendly now, after all he had whispered his bullshit into her ear – and she had believed him.
He was sent away, and the interrogation began. Why had I said it?! What had driven me to use such horrible language?! Where had I learned it?! I tried to explain, tried to sputter out my defense – but she wasn’t buying it. So it was a stalemate. I didn’t know what to do…and hunger pains began to pulse through my body…urgh, now I come to think of it – I was STARVING…
“LISTEN, JOHN! You either own up, and apologise – and then go for your lunch. Or we just sit here. Your choice.”
Well obviously I admitted to it. It was like the carrot, and stick – except it wasn’t a carrot on the end of it…it was a lovely chocolate doughnut, apple juice, and whatever other goodies I had waiting for me in my bag. I’d probably do the same thing now, food trumps just about anything…for me anyways!
You see I needed my energy. I’d be playing Power Rangers again in the afternoon break – and there was a new enemy I’d need every bit of strength to take down…“HIIIIII-YAHHHH!”
John Lee Taggart 