I don't even know where to start. But I am dying to tell it and I am dying to read your reactions Last Friday night, I had a storytelling concert at the Family Resource Center in Warsaw, KY. This is my first visit to Warsaw and though I have talked in the past with both the local Public Library and the Family Resouce Center and finally our calendars opened up and the stars aligned and it was going to work out.
We signed our Contracts and I was careful to get the phone number and the location, double checking to make sure that I was supposed to go to the "Lower Elementary School Cafeteria for the Book Fair and Storytelling." I double checked the phone, even calling it to talk to the nice contact lady who hired me and everything was in its place.
Warsaw is a beautiful tiny Kentucky town on the banks of the Ohio River. Total population just over 1800 people, some of you have told to audiences bigger than this town. The whole place takes up 0.97 sq. miles, with only 830 housing units in town. It is a little paradise site in Kentucky.
I arrived in town... two hours early. Started looking for 50 Pawprint Path, (the school kids named the street) and no one knew where it was. My Tom Tom didn't know where Pawprint Path was either... I found the High School, and a brand new Elementary School and the janitor I spoke to explained to me that... 'that particular school was the "Upper" Elementary School.' Yes... they knew the nice contact lady, no they didn't know where the Family Resource Center was. (I found out later it was in the very building we were talking in... Just down the hall.) Undaunted, I grabbed my trusty cell phone and called her. Voicemail... hmmmm "Hi this is Buck Creacy, I am in town and looking for the school. I should be there shortly as soon as someone tells me where it is..."
So I decided the thing to do is find a teacher. I did, yes she knew the nice contact lady... "she is probably at home... wouldn't you think?" I patiently explained how that I was supposed to be telling at a Book Fair and she pointed to another set of buildings and said they might be down there.
So back in the truck, I drive down... nope that is an elementary school but it isn't "Lower Elementary." No cars either... but I am early... So it is time to ask the locals... I drive my truck out by the high school football field. Young jocks are leaving practice and I stop a pair of them and ask for their help. I was relieved when the young man paused and said "Get back out on Main Street and head west, 1.5 miles... on the right you will see a white building and next to it a Hispanic Church. It is the white building.
By NOW.. I am starting to look at my watch... time is wasting. I call again on my cell phone for the nice contact lady... voicemail... leave another message. Watching the odometer carefully, I find the white building and the Hispanic Church. The white building is an auction house. hmmm Call again... voicemail left another message.
On my way back into town, my survival skills were kicking in... "you must never be late for a program." Suddenly, I see it... a downtown diner... yes! It is open and there are people eating. So I go in... ask the lady at the counter if she knows the nice contact lady. "Yes they are friends from church." Excellent can you give me directionst to the "Lower Elementary School." Uh Oh... fog on her face... her eyebrows furrow... this doesn't look good. It wasn't.
Back in the truck and at the other Elementary School again I am looking for another teacher who is working late. Ah, here comes one now with a guitar and three teenagers. I beg for help and they don't know the Lower school either. But they point to the the other buildings... you know the ones that I went to.... third?
Back in the truck, I checked my voice mail... they called me?! Why didn't my phone ring?! They are looking for me? They have altered the evening program in hopes that I can get there soon. I call the number back....Arrgggh! Voice Mail.
So I do the "slow drive" by of that other school... peering into the windows and at last I see parents, kids, and two people looking out at me.... I think that is the nice contact lady. I park and run inside... yes its them... I start unloading the gear and PA system. Five to ten minutes later, I am ready to tell. A quick sound check and a quicker introduction and the real show begins.
Near the front is a small child, mobile and fast... Mom is having no luck holding onto this wiggle worm and he is off. He circles me and finds my microphone cable and instantly hooks his foot in the cable and Boom the mic hits the floor... along with the mic stand. My reactions though never really considered like lightning reacted to the mic... already on the floor like a falling peice of stained glass. My whole body reacted as I dove to save the microphone. I know I should have been concerned for the child but I didn't really know the child as well as the microphone.
It is hard for me to tell you what happened next but let's just say that the air was filled with the staccatto sound of ripping denim. Yep, I tore my pants from Houston to Omaha! People began to laugh, I stood up, my hands began to do damage analysis, more laughter... Now what do you do?
"Well folks, looks like you have seen the best of me. That was just about par for the afternoon but I think this evening is going to turn into a pretty good story. Which is why I came here tonight... to tell you stories..." and I did.
The audience loved me, they laughed where they were supposed to... I forgot about my britches and I think they did too... well until I finally went outside to load my truck... I was just happy to be wearing drawers.
So... if anyone ever asked you if I have ever showed my high knee? You can tell them I know for a fact that Buck P Creacy showed his high-knee real good in Warsaw, Kentucky and made some friends while he did.
Well has this ever happened to you? Do you have a funny war story like this?
Keep telling and bite your lip