Reasons To Love Him, #10: His Journal Entries From Junior High Read Like Jack Handey’s “Deep Thoughts”
While we were in Mobile this past week we spent copious amounts of quality family time, including but not limited to watching old 8mm reels of home movies from Chris’ diaper-clad days, a cozy dinnertime conversation centering on the various degrees to which Nancy Grace is probably annoying, and games of Scrabble and Bookworm that I perpetually lost.
One of the highlights of the trip included Chris’ mother finding one of his old junior high notebooks, wherein he wrote only one thought on each page, until he abruptly just stopped writing thoughts and instead wrote music he was going to play on his guitar.
I love that my husband was as prolific at twelve as he is at thirty-three:
“Ah, yes-all the memories come rushing over me now, like a giant wave at the beach. The kind of wave that pulls you under and won’t let you back up. Our old house. Boyish grins on mine and my brother’s faces when we denied any wrongdoings. Children will be children. No! Don’t shoot me now, Fred, I love you!”
“The lights are dim. Many dressed in black. Every now and then a few sniffs are heard and the white of a hand-kerchief is seen. People speak in a hushed voice. The casket–over there–in the corner. A few walk by to see. A small child starts to cry (loudly). The silence is broken. A scream. ‘That’s not Elvis!!’”
“Freedom of speech is like an onion in a box…if you ever get to see it, it might move you to tears.”
“We will discover the nature of our own particular genius when we stop trying to control others’ impressions of us. We give other people impressions of us in the things we say and the clothes we wear; so what kind of impression do you think people would have of us if we stood naked, motionless, silent in our front yards? (on the hoods of our cars, even)”
And my personal favorite:
“Today I will weigh my behavior carefully. Responsible behavior builds freedom and independence. For example, if I were to shoot someone, my freedom and independence, for lack of responsible behavior, would be quickly taken away—if I got caught.”
Um, his 12-year-old self was smarter than my 26-year-old self currently is.
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I loved the insightful, insightful, randomly hilarious pattern he used in all of them. I’m thinking that maybe standing naked and completely still on the hoods of cars would be sort of fun. You know, in the summer. In the dark.
These are hysterical. I love finding stuff like that from way back when…
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It was amazing being on this trip, because we spent so much time with Chris’ mom, and the rest of his family and the stories they told, with pictures, and notebooks and old 8mm reels of home movies were incredible. And incredibly entertaining.
No way a 12 year old wrote those!
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Yes! way. I have the physical journals to prove it. ;)
That is hysterical! Definitely reasons to love him. :)
Twelve? Seriously? What, did his parents not let him watch TV or play? Ha. At twelve mine wold have read, “LiKe I rEaLly LiKe CaScE BuT He DuZnT c ThAt i ExIsT aNd WhAt DoEs iT MaTtEr? MoM HaTeS mY GuTs aNd ThInKs Im ToO DuMb To DaTe PlUs I hAvE tHeSe DaMn BrAcEs”
Props to him.
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I know, right? If I recall correctly, most of my journal entries from when I was 12 centered on bemoaning the tragic and untimely death of my pet mouse, Martin.
These are awesome! I was giggling…which is not a good thing because I am supposed to be “working” while Matthew does Daddy Daycare :)
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More giggling equals more productivity. Or so I like to tell myself. I was never very good at Math.
“Like an onion in a box” is SO Jack Handey…and had me literally snorting water up my nose. That’s so great that his mom kept all of his old stuff. Oh, and I’m so happy to hear you made it back home safely!!
*gasp* :)
I heart old journal entries. I cannot believe he wrote those at age 12. The boy was a genius and a comic to boot. Too funny! Great way to start my day. “… if I got caught.” Bwahahahaha!
Mine would go something like, “OMG Richard likes me. Jessica is so jealous. My mom is like so mean! I’m gonna tell Dad!”
haha, oh the grade school years.
An onion in a box? Hilarious.
My favorite line…
“The lights are dim. Many dressed in black. Every now and then a few sniffs are heard and the white of a hand-kerchief is seen. People speak in a hushed voice. The casket–over there–in the corner. A few walk by to see. A small child starts to cry (loudly). The silence is broken. A scream. ‘That’s not Elvis!!’”
HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!
Thanks for commenting on my blog. Yours is awesome… I love Ryan Adams too!
Oh my goodness. How adorable was (is) he? Answer: very.