April 18, 2005

Sour Grapes

Back when I was in about fourth grade, my class was assigned a somewhat unique project. We were divided into groups, ranging from two to four students, and we were given one of Aesop's Fables to memorize and act out.

For those unfamiliar with Aesop's Fables, they're a collection of little moral stories, supposedly gathered by an individual with the unfortunate name "Aesop," that usually consist of anthropomorphic characters. For example, there are such fables as "The Lion and the Mouse," "The Ant and the Grasshopper," and the eyebrow-raising title "The Man, the Boy, and the Donkey."

My group consisted of myself and one other classmate, Chris. We were assigned the fable "The Fox and the Grapes," which consists of a fox jumping repeatedly for grapes that are just out of its reach, before finally giving up and declaring that the grapes are probably sour anyways. The moral of the fable? "It is easy to despise what you cannot get." Which is only partially true, because I know that I'll probably never "get" Salma Hayek, but I certainly don't despise her. Not by a long shot.

As you may have guessed, I was the fox in the "Fox and the Grapes," so it was my responsibility to repeatedly leap into the air, grasping for grapes just out of my reach, and then fall clumsily on the ground.

It's at this point that things started to get interesting. After our groups had memorized and could adequately enact our assigned fable, we were told that we were going to perform our little skits for other elementary classes. Those classes would then vote on their favorite Aesop Fable skit. The top two groups would then perform their skits in front of the entire school assembly in the elementary gymnasium. Lo and behold, Chris and I came in second.

Now, an important side-story to this tale was unfolding during that same week. My mother had recently purchased a new batch of underwear for me, which is always a good thing. Unfortunately, the underwear my mother purchased featured little fire trucks and dalmations and all sorts of other little decorations no young elementary boy would be caught dead sporting on his underwear.

One of the activities the boys in my class engaged in was a competition to see how far away we could stand from a urinal while still successfully urinating in said urinal. Some of the boys in my class were god-like when it came to this pastime. They could stand six feet away and still maintain a perfect stream to the urinal. I wasn't that powerful, but I enjoyed the competition.

Well, knowing that we'd probably be doing urinal competitions later in the day, and because I didn't want to endure any ridicule for my fire truck emblazoned underwear, I ducked out of class early in the morning, went to the bathroom, and divested myself of my underwear. Better to go commando, I thought, than be caught wearing "panties."

Unfortunately, Chris and I came in second place that same day with our "Fox and the Grapes," skit, so please see if you can guess where all of this is going. There we were, Chris and I, standing in front of the entire school assembly, performing our runner-up, Academy Award-winning Aesop Fable. I was determined to be the best darned fox leaping for grapes that I possibly could be.

I leapt for the grapes, and came crashing dramatically to the ground.

Again I leapt. Again, I crashed to the ground.

Yet another powerful leap for those tantalizing grapes. Another miss. Another sorry squat as I fell to the floor. . .

And you could have heard the seat of my pants split if you were living in Oregon.

I sat there on the floor, as the sound of my pants splitting echoed through the gymnasium one last time, feeling the cold gym floor tile pressed against my exposed right butt cheek, and I pondered my situation.

I had split my pants before. I was a growing boy, after all. These things happen. But during those other pant splitting episodes, I had at least been wearing underwear. Heck, if you're wearing underwear, splitting your pants could actually be kind of funny. But, this wasn't funny. Not funny at all.

First and foremost, I had a skit to finish, darn it. Pulling myself up from the floor, I made a valiant effort to keep my rear aimed away from the school assembly. And, although I had two more leaps for those grapes scheduled, I decided to alter our runner-up script just a tad and not do any more jumping. There were a few snickers and giggles coming from students who apparently recognized the sound of pants splitting, but mostly the assembly seemed unaware of my plight.

Chris and I completed our skit, and I exited the gymnasium, sprinted to my locker and grabbed my jacket, which I quickly tied around my waist, thus concealing my exposed behind. All the while, I could hear the assembled students still applauding Chris's and my Aesop Fable re-enactment.

I returned to the gymnasium to take a bow, and no one even questioned why a jacket was now tied around my waist.

We actors are eccentric like that.

Especially when confronted by any one of the following hot ladies: Namrata Singh Gujral. Cerina Vincent. Lauren Lee Smith. Tawny Cypress. Jayma Mays. Rose Byrne. Natalia Tena. Carice van Houten. Sonya Walger. Michelle Ryan. Alice Braga. Kristen Stewart. Katie Leung. Vera Jordanova. Mia Maestro. Ninel Conde. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai.

Posted by Ryan at April 18, 2005 11:48 PM

Just glad your sour grapes didn't show.
Seriously, you've had this butt exposing thing going on for many many years now huh?
Dude, there's something wrong with that, but I don't know what it's called. I only had psych 100, and it didn't cover southern exposure......

Posted by: Donna at April 21, 2005 12:37 AM
Post a comment

Remember personal info?

StumbleUpon Toolbar Stumble It!