Quick, who holds the record for the most Grammy nominations without a single win? Before you click over to Wikipedia like I had to do, here is a little hint. The answer caught me completely off guard. Not because I consider this person ultra talented, but for the simple fact I cannot name a single one of his songs.
The winner, or in this case loser, is Brian McKnight who has a mind boggling sixteen Grammy nominations, but not a single award at home on his mantle. He is the king of the ‘Also-Rans.’ I thought of Mr. McKnight the other evening when complying the 25 Random Things About Me list. Surprisingly, I am more interesting than I thought because there were some nuggets that did not make the cut. So, I would like to share a few of the ‘McKnight’s’ who got all dressed up for nothing:
*In college a group of us heckled The Harrisburg Senators mascot so relentlessly that he verbally swore at us causing the little kids around us to cry.
*I once got kicked out of Wal-Mart for opening up XXXXL Fruit of the Looms while trying to find the perfect Dirty Santa gift.
*Having been up for almost 48 hours straight after Madison was born, I broke down and sobbed like a baby in the middle of the hospital chapel wondering what I had got myself into.
*During the first day of Young Life summer camp, I lost my only pair of glasses in Saranac Lake. For the rest of the week, I had to wear someone else’s prescription bifocal sunglasses, even at night.
*The first time I told Jenn I loved her I got a “thank you” and then some awkward silence. Luckily, she came around.
Yet, #26 on the list was this: I learned in 7th grade that when a shirt says, “wash before wearing” it is not a suggestion, but a must-do. Unfortunately for myself and those around me, I did not heed the advice and things quickly turned to one smelly mess. The stink was kicked up a notch since my cluelessness occurred on one of the hottest days of the year when the school’s air conditioning was on the fritz. In the middle of chorus class, I found myself sweating like Star Jones pushing people out of the way at the buffet line at Golden Corral. The sweat interacted with the clothing in some crazy chemical imbalance setting off a chain reaction of stench.
Being a chubby kid with glasses and braces meant I did not need to give any more freebies to my critics. The fact that I was in chorus, even though puberty caused my voice to crack more than Rice Krispies, gave them plenty of material for their teasing. I went into freak out mode over the stink bomb I was wearing over my neck. Any glance in my direction made me panic even more. Every snicker, chuckle or laugh got me agitated leading to more sweating and even more stink.
Focusing on any conversation was a no-go because the only thing I could think about was the person knew the unusual odor was coming from my direction. I reasoned they had spent all class watching my every move and noticed how the fumes radiated from my body like Pepe Le Pew. Having all eyes on me was too much to handle so I faked a sickness and had my dad pick me up from school.
Playing the day back in my head almost 20 years later, I am just now realizing that no one made a single comment about the stench. There were no snide remarks from the alto section about who ‘smelt it dealt it.’ Chances are good it was just another typical day butchering “Wind Beneath My Wings” in 7th grade chorus class.
I am guessing my other middle school brethren who only took baths on odd number days ending in 5 were the original source of the odor. Like always, my shyness made everything about me. As odd as this may sound, I am beginning to realize how my shyness means I am completely and utterly conceited. One would figure that being an introvert equals humility since the person does not think highly of themselves and avoids the spotlight at all costs.
Yet, think about it. What causes someone to be shy or horrible at small talk? It stems from nervousness over what people will think of them. Will they be rejected or accepted? You let the fear get the better of yourself and never fully engage in conversations. Instead your thoughts are consumed with the idea that everything you say and do is being analyzed. What we fail to realize is that in 99.9% of the conversations we engage in the other person is thinking about themselves. Regardless if we convince ourselves the person thinks we are a complete and utter loser, this line of thinking reeks of ego just as bad as my JcPenny clearance t-shirt did on that hot day in chorus class.