Some people possess a very powerful gift. It's impressive, often enviable and many try very unsuccessfully to do it correctly. Sometimes it can leave onlookers, bystanders and active participants completely speechless. (which for some of us, is a big deal.)
Politicians throughout the history of time have been endowed with large concentrations of this gift.
Mr. George Wickham seemed to have been born with it.
Mr. George Wickham seemed to have been born with it.
This gift is the power of the schmooze. Often referred to as 'spinning a yarn' among other things, this is the art of crafting a tale so believable that anyone within earshot can not possibly question the validity of the schmoozer's statements.
I happen to be one of those people who doesn't possess such an ability and the following recollection beautifully illustrates this simple truth.
After a year of college, I transferred up to Weber State University in Ogden, Utah. The first day I was there, my car was broken into and my wallet and backpack were stolen. (I know, I know, serves me right for leaving them in my car).
I was already in a bad mood the next day when my classes began and decided to take a stand by refusing to purchase anymore of the required books unless and until I was sure I couldn't do without them.
I happen to be one of those people who doesn't possess such an ability and the following recollection beautifully illustrates this simple truth.
After a year of college, I transferred up to Weber State University in Ogden, Utah. The first day I was there, my car was broken into and my wallet and backpack were stolen. (I know, I know, serves me right for leaving them in my car).
I was already in a bad mood the next day when my classes began and decided to take a stand by refusing to purchase anymore of the required books unless and until I was sure I couldn't do without them.
The first couple of days went very well. I had most of my reading materials already and felt pretty confident I wouldn't need anymore until after payday, if at all. One particular, seemingly needless supplement was a book of essays for an English class.
I was convinced I could do without it. AND since our discussions on the materials were intended to be completely subjective, I was convinced I could schmooze my way through the class.
A couple of weeks went by before our first assignment was given from the essay book. Our teacher asked us to refer to page so-and-so and prepare an opinion piece about Youth in Asia.
Pshh...total and complete cake.
While this was before the world wide web (did I really just make myself sound like a dinosaur?!), I still had a library and could grab a couple of National Geographic Magazines on Asian culture or something and totally schmooze my way through it. I think I decided to go the direction of discussing the contributions the up and coming Asian population was bringing to our society.
That day got busy. I never got to the library. But I did get my hands on a random and vaguely relevant article, took a few notes and felt pretty darn good about the whole thing....and I hadn't even looked at the book.
I was the Queen Schmoozer. The Flash, who wowed his entire English class with an oral report on 'Uncle Tom's Cabin', a book he NEVER read, would be totally put to shame!
I was so excited to dazzle the class as I entered the room that day.
As it progressed, I became more and more eager for the opinion portion of our lesson and resisted the very strong urge to throw both my hands up in the air and volunteer to do my dazzling first.
It's a very good thing I did. Because as I listened to the first speaker giving his well conveyed opinion on the merits vs. the evils of Euthanasia, I realized I really, REALLY missed the mark.
Most of the rest of class was a blur but I do remember that my head started to spin, my legs went numb and I wanted to throw up. Minutes earlier, I was hoping to be asked for my very informed and articulate opinion. At that moment, I wanted to slink down, underneath my seat and stay there until the danger of being called on had passed.
I narrowly averted academic disaster that day because gratefully, I wasn't called on. A few hours later, I went to the bookstore and happily purchased the rest of my books and forever dashed any dream of wearing the 'Queen Schmoozer' crown.
It probably would have been encrusted with cheap plastic rhinestones anyway.
I was convinced I could do without it. AND since our discussions on the materials were intended to be completely subjective, I was convinced I could schmooze my way through the class.
A couple of weeks went by before our first assignment was given from the essay book. Our teacher asked us to refer to page so-and-so and prepare an opinion piece about Youth in Asia.
Pshh...total and complete cake.
While this was before the world wide web (did I really just make myself sound like a dinosaur?!), I still had a library and could grab a couple of National Geographic Magazines on Asian culture or something and totally schmooze my way through it. I think I decided to go the direction of discussing the contributions the up and coming Asian population was bringing to our society.
That day got busy. I never got to the library. But I did get my hands on a random and vaguely relevant article, took a few notes and felt pretty darn good about the whole thing....and I hadn't even looked at the book.
I was the Queen Schmoozer. The Flash, who wowed his entire English class with an oral report on 'Uncle Tom's Cabin', a book he NEVER read, would be totally put to shame!
I was so excited to dazzle the class as I entered the room that day.
As it progressed, I became more and more eager for the opinion portion of our lesson and resisted the very strong urge to throw both my hands up in the air and volunteer to do my dazzling first.
It's a very good thing I did. Because as I listened to the first speaker giving his well conveyed opinion on the merits vs. the evils of Euthanasia, I realized I really, REALLY missed the mark.
Most of the rest of class was a blur but I do remember that my head started to spin, my legs went numb and I wanted to throw up. Minutes earlier, I was hoping to be asked for my very informed and articulate opinion. At that moment, I wanted to slink down, underneath my seat and stay there until the danger of being called on had passed.
I narrowly averted academic disaster that day because gratefully, I wasn't called on. A few hours later, I went to the bookstore and happily purchased the rest of my books and forever dashed any dream of wearing the 'Queen Schmoozer' crown.
It probably would have been encrusted with cheap plastic rhinestones anyway.
3 comments:
Haha! That is the best story ever! As an English major, I also had several class periods I had to shmooze through...and none of them were fun. Glad you were able to purchase the rest of your books. ;)
I remember a coversation with my mom as a teenager. I had semi-listened to several newscasts about the Youth in Asia and I asked my mom what was happening across Asia to cause such concern for their youth. I was very happy I had talked to my mom about it and not brought it up at school.
Well, you may not be the "Queen Shmoozer," but you certainly had me entranced with your story.
I hate to admit it, but I shmoozed my way through an entire History of Civilization class in college. It's not that I didn't have the books (I actually still own all of them), it's just that I didn't feel like reading them. I didn't even end up going to all of the classes, either. My roommate, however, who read every word and attended every class got VERY mad at me at the end of the semester because I got the exact same grade (an A) that she did. She did get more out of the class, though. I occasionally still feel bad about that, though the feeling comes less and less frequently these days. :)
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