One of my very favorite storytellers of all time was my late friend John Schulz. He created tight, interesting stories set in the real world of his life. I am thrilled to have been a small part of his adding "storyteller" to his many other titles. What a joy to happen upon this post again today. He had tagged me it the post so it cropped up on my Facebook wall. John is gone from us now, but we still have his words. If you aren't familiar with them check out his Facebook page or his website.
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| John Schulz, Storyteller |
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From John Schulz's Facebook page, September 25, 2020
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“Just call on me brother if you need a hand,
We all need somebody to lean on
I just might have a problem that you’ll understand
We all need somebody to lean on”
—Bill Withers, Lean on Me
It took some bonding to get to a point where I accepted that button.
First off, it made me look different, I had to practice and get used to using it—and it took some practice. It was extra trouble to reach up and push a button every time I wanted to say something.
One day I got the notion that I have always been different anyway, so adding one more piece of strangeness didn’t seem to matter. It did take a long time to get over being self conscious, though, and then something happened…
In December, several years ago, my friend Terrell Shaw invited me to a Christmas get-together at his and Sheila’s house. He told me to be ready to tell a story.
So I decided that I would try it. I was nervous, as you can imagine, and I decided to adapt the story about Louann (I still think that story is one of the best things I’ve ever written.) It is a chapter in my first book “Requiem for a Redneck.”
At the party I was asked to put my name in a hat if I wanted to “be a teller.” I did so. I had no idea what was going to happen, but I told my story and it went over rather well. Either a lot of people liked it or else a lot of people lied to me.
It turned out that Terrell was (and is) the president of the Ridge and Valley Tellers, an organization that meets regularly for story telling practice and showing off.
A year later, I was invited to a similar get-together at the home of Bob and Beverly M. Harris. I wasn’t so nervous this time. I told a story, as did a number of folks. It was a very good time.
So I paid the dues, joined the group and began to come up with a short story to tell once a month. I cannot begin to tell you what this did for my self-confidence and mental well-being. All of a sudden, after a couple of years, I felt good about myself.
