by John Morelock
My third grade teacher said I should be a politician because I talked too much, talked while working, while her back was turned, on class trips to the bathroom, but then she said what really made me a politician was how I talked myself into further trouble while trying to get out of it (sure I broke that whole box of crayons, but that shouldn't constitute lunch detention); anyway, I was quick to dismiss the idea of being a politician because I was going to be an astronaut and go to space where, coincidentally, the only people to talk to are a handful of Russians who may or may not offer me vodka, but thinking back on what she said makes me realize that I hate silences in conversation and I tend to interject myself to kill the lull and that interjection often brings me more trouble than the dead air would – that is to say, I talk myself into holes that only get deeper as my mouth keeps moving: just a few days ago, my non-fiction teacher mentioned that some writer named Julie Klam published a book with Riverhead Press, so I asked if Riverhead was associated with Riverteeth magazine and then, after a long uncomfortable silence, I said, “You know, because teeth are in the head,” another lengthy pause then I said, “and they both have rivers,” and by this point everyone was cringing and another student said, “Jesus, I bet you thought that was funny didn’t you,” and there I was trying to find any possible out to the conversation, but I was stuck there putting my hands in my coat pocket and asking about our next assignment just so my stupid comment wasn’t left hanging in the air and the worst part is that this happens all the time, my comment – silence – my comment – silence – my stupid comment – silence so maybe Ms. Brown was right when she labeled me a politician, and I’m going to entertain the role by planning my own presidential podcast where, once a week, I’ll tell America just exactly what’s going on, no smoke, no mirrors: I’ll call it “Fireside Chats” after FDR’s morale boosting radio addresses and my cohost will be an old man Ben Carson because that guy is just bound to compare some P.C. activist group to the Gestapo, giving the listeners a good laugh while simultaneously hurting his own political chances, but it wouldn’t be a good podcast without guests, so I’ll call up Kanye West and Zach Galifianakis for a segment called freestyle roasting and when it all comes together, millions of people will put in their ear buds while they go jogging or ride a bus and listen to me talk about dinner at the White House and conflict in Syria all in the same hour-long audio file and, I am certain, that somewhere Ms. Brown will smile and laugh and tell everyone she knows that she taught me years before and will say I talked too much then and I talk too much now.
John Morelock was born in Tennessee where he learned to climb trees. He then moved to South Carolina and learned how to write. He now writes about climbing trees, among other topics. His work has appeared in Litmus Literary Journal and he is currently enrolled at Arizona State University.