Talent is a beautiful thing. Maya Angelou believed that every person is born with talent. Stephen King said that talent is cheaper than table salt. Ralph Waldo Emerson said something about how every man has his own vocation, but talent is the call. What do all of these things have in common? Hell if I know, but I just hastily quoted three legitimate people that used the word talent. You should be really impressed. I wrote an essay on talent and what it meant to me at some point in my life and slightly recall these people having said those things. I am grateful that none of you care enough to inquire their validity.
Back to the root of this insightful tangent.. TALENT. I have very few respectable talents, but lucky for me, I am blessed with people in my life whose talents go above and beyond normal expectations. Like my girl Maya said, talent is something people are born with. Although this is probably very true, sometimes we just have to take things into our own hands. Case in point, Sarah Shelton and her experience with baby carrots.. or as we like to call it over here on Clark, "The Carrot Incident."
You see what had happened was, Sarah turned eight. As her eighth birthday approached, her parents asked if she were to receive only one thing on her big day, what it would be. Sarah thought about this for days. Her birthday list entailed tie-dyed Beanie Babies, Samantha, the American Girl doll, the Peg Game from the Cracker Barrel and at the very top of the list was a Magic Glow Doodle Bear. Although she would have been happy to receive any of these, the concept of only one gift really started to eat away at her. One gift. Only one gift. Would a Beanie Baby suffice? Would its swirled rainbow coat keep her satisfied during those long, dark nights she spent sleeping over with her grandmother? What about Samantha? How many times can you really brush a small patch of synthetic hair before you realize that maybe your time could be better spent doing pretty much anything else? Then, there is the Peg Game. I mean, no child wants to be an Eg-No-Ra-Moose, but triangular pieces of wood are so second grade. Last, but not least there was choice numero uno, the Doodle Bear with glowing capabilities. All the cool girls in Sarah's class had Magic Glow Doodle Bears. Like, only the cool girls had them. The only thing Sarah had comparable to their coolness was the whole early bloomer thing she had going on underneath the snaps of her jean jumper. Was the Doodle Bear what she needed to finally earn her bow into the Summerfield Elementary School of Slampieces-in-training? Negative.
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Uh. Hold that thought.
Caveat. I had great intentions of making this the longest post ever in order to impress all of you. Ok. That is a lie. In actuality, I had hopes of abashing Sarah's character and causing confusion to unknowing parties in the process. Fortunately for you guys, I lost interest in such an endeavor and stopped the extremely captivating story ten minutes after its commencement. My apologies. The above piece of completely factual information has been sitting in Draft form for the past month or so. Upon request by people personally affected by this sweet story, I am now posting it. Rather than finishing the anecdote in its current state, I decided that I am just not going to. Instead, I'll give you a more brief version.
In short, Sarah thought it would be really cool to impress her friends with throwing objects in the air and thereafter, catching them in her mouth. Funny how some things never change, right? Anyway, after trying the traditional grapes, popcorn and varying adolescent snacks of the sort, Sarah was ready for an upgrade. That's right. Carrots. Yes, you may now ooh and aah. I know I did.
After several attempts to take full sized carrots to the face, Sarah decided that maybe third grade wasn't a good year to die after all. To each his own, I guess. Finally, Sarah's sweet mother coaxed her into trying carrots of smaller proportions. Enter: baby carrots. After one successful catch, she was hooked. You know what they say; once you baby carrot snack, you can't go back.
Day in and day out, Sarah carried around her miniature Ziploc bag of baby carrots. Walking the hallways of her elementary school and the ghetto backstreets of Greensboro, she would find any willing audience and show her talent. "Watch this," was quickly followed by a toss, catch, chomp and smile. Such a cute smile it was, since she didn't have any teeth. Ok, I'm joking. She had teeth. I think. Maybe. We're still not sure if the ones she has now are real.
One afternoon, Sarah was on a roll with carrot charade. Nothing could stop her! That is, until, something did.
It was snack time at Sarah's after-school program. You know, the program where they keep all the criminal children until their parents remember to come get them after they've met their daily quota in drug sales. As everyone pulled out their Gushers and Fruit Roll-Ups, Sarah whips out her carrots, stands on top of the wooden bench and demands everyone's attention. After all the children have made Sarah their focus, she ties back the dreads of her white girl weave with her hot pink, cotton scrunchie.
Knees bent, head back, Sarah throws the carrot into the air. Mouth wide open, eager for the catch, to Sarah, the carrot seems to be flying in slow motion. The sun was in her eyes. She began to break into a sweat in fear that she would not catch it as her friends watched. Then, everything went black. Sarah had successfully caught the carrot, but something had gone terribly wrong. What happened, you ask? Let me tell you. The carrot? Yea. It had "fallen" down her throat. Fallen was her word choice, not mine. I feel like hers will be more.. appropriate for public posting though.
It had happened. Sarah had choked... on a baby carrot. In front of everyone! Oh, the embarrassment. Oh, the shame. Sarah was mortified.
To this day, Sarah doesn't eat carrots.. or baby carrots.. or babies, in general for that matter. Additionally, she steers clear of any game that involves catching flying objects in her mouth. To you, this may seem like a life experience that poor Sarah is missing out on. You are right. However, sometimes sacrifices must be taken to avoid death by carrot. Please understand.