Dating : through 49

Once, soaring on the wings of time, a man flew through 49 years screaming towards half a century. He had lived an amazing life. As a boy, he played piano every Sunday for six of those years to the delight of nice little ladies who came to church early just to hear him practice. He surprised everyone by running three seasons with the cross country team even though he came in last every single race. The one thing he did most and loved most was telling stories. He told stories all throughout those 49 years, almost since learning to talk.

He started by listening to stories. He realized stories had a life of their own. They changed and twisted and meant different things depending on who was telling them and to whom. He discovered a group of storytellers right there in his own town. They let him listen to their stories, but soon enough insisted he must have stories of his own for them to enjoy.

He began with those family stories he already knew so well. Then he began to look for other types of stories. These were not hard to find at all. There were amazing stories all around him. After a while, he realized he had heard so many stories over the years that they all started to blend together. His garden of twisting, living, and changing stories became a forest as he realized that life itself was one extremely complex story.

One day, though, he got stuck. The stories had grown so thick that he couldn’t move. In a panic, he realized he couldn’t hear or tell a single story more. Even more maddening, this paralysis came as he stood here in front of an audience.

Here were people counting on him to tell them stories. Many had come for miles and braved heat and mosquitoes to show up and hear his story. He stood before the audience dumbfounded. He’d always had a story at the tip of his tongue just waiting to spring out and wriggle its way into the hearts and minds of anyone within earshot.

This night, he opened his mouth and..

nothing..

silence..

Everyone stared awkwardly. Some looked down. They were stunned, as well. He had always had a story for them before. Had they done something to deserve no story from their friend? Confused and awkward, the audience looked away nervously and wondered what they could do.

The storyteller took a deep breath. He thought about learning to play the piano. He had just started playing a note here and a note there. He learned the written notes in music and how they were connected and indicated keys on the piano. He remembered those ladies at church telling him how much he’d be missed the year he went away to college.

He thought about the day he turned to the high school cross country coach as they watched a wrestling match, and said simply, “I could run 3.1 miles, couldn’t I?” The coach said, “I bet you could!” So he did run, 3.1 miles every race, and more on practice days, for the next 3 seasons.

Finally, his thoughts turned to his old job at the library. While working in the children’s area he overheard something about a storyteller coming soon. He especially cherished the memory of his first nervous meeting with a storyteller from the local guild who would inspire and push him for years to come.

All these thoughts combined and he knew what to do.. here.. now.. with everyone starting to feel tense and unsure.

He looked up. He stood straight. Everyone noticed and looked up expectantly. What did he do? As always, he simply began.

“Once, soaring on the wings of time, a man flew past 49 years, screaming towards half a century.”