If I Walked Into a Room, You'd Notice Me

There are people in this world that are able to walk a short distance (say from the entrance of a classroom, to their seat all the way across the room) without stumbling or tripping or falling. I am most certainly...not one of them. I am both a self-proclaimed and a certified klutz.

I suppose it all started when I was a very little boy at the young age of five. Having older siblings meant that I could watch mature movies at a young age, and so I took the opportunity to watch as many of Bruce Willis’s films as possible. From Die Hard to The Fifth Element, watching Mr. Willis being hurled across a room into a window, or going into close combat on a chain in between two train cars, inspired me. And so, being the rascal I was, I would fall whenever I had the chance. Everything from a touch by sister to just falling over my own two feet, I deemed worthy of a great dramatic performance. It eventually transferred over into using it as a tactic for getting bullies into more trouble for pushing me. I mean, what would look worse, a scratch on the leg or a bleeding knee complete with dirt and other various elements from the ground?

Well Karma came back to me for all of my antics. For awhile, I had the hardest time doing anything without falling or failing miserably in some way or another. My dad was playing guitar for a festival at Stanford when I was ten years old and I remember this very elegant, elaborate fountain right in front of where he was performing. I remember my mom warning me about what might happen if I ran around on the edge of it. I remember running around the edge of the fountain, and just to have a laugh with my dear mum, I stopped occasionally and acted as if I was about to fall in. However, what I remember most, what is the most vivid in my own mind, is the biting cold of the water that followed, and the frantic rush to find a blow drier for my clothes.

In eighth grade, I would fall a lot during the day. Tree roots, garbage cans, poles, other people, textbooks, desks and anything else you could possibly name at school, I tripped over. My friends got it in their minds that they should do a fall count, to see how many times I made myself look like a fool throughout the day. I promised myself that I would not fall even once, and that I would be incredibly careful about my movements. So first period comes...and goes...and not a single trip or fall. In my confidence, I neglected to step down a stair by the office building, and ended up on my back, with my friends hovering of me, neither laughing nor looking concerned. All they had to say was “One.” I believe the final count that day was somewhere around one-hundred-and-eighty-two. It is a big number sure, but my friends and I all look back on that day, and have ourselves a mighty good laugh. After all, I have nothing to be ashamed of.

It gets even better, especially when speaking of my most recent follies. This past January, I was in a show called The Mousetrap and I played the part of the wildly eccentric Christopher Wren, a character not too far off from myself. In one scene, I was to hide behind the curtains and pop out when two other characters began to converse in front of them. One night, I got behind the curtains, but the cushion of the bench that I was standing on shifted and I went backwards through the windows behind me, banging my head with a loud thunk on an artificial tree. The other two rushed on to see if I was alright, but we all played it off as if it was part of the show and purely intentional. When I was later asked about my tumble through the windows, I was told that everyone watching that night thought that it was supposed to happen. Of course, I told them all it that it was improvised, and they were even more impressed with the performance.

What I am conveying here, saying that I am proud to be a klutz, is only half of the message. I am proud to be a klutz that can recover with quick thinking and charm. In essence, I am proud to be someone who falls and is not afraid to admit when he does so, and in turn is also able to pick himself up, and continue on with the day, with the show, and with life.