During my ziplining adventure on June 10, one of our adventure tour friends suggested that I try out a ventriloquist lesson for the hobby year. Just a few days later, I scheduled a lesson with comic and ventriloquist April Brucker, who welcomed me into her apartment and took me under her wing. In an hour, I went from novice to street performing novice.
I thought compiling two of the same interviews in two different styles would be fun–so here goes. Pick your poison:
And style 2:
During the second week of January, I came up with the quest to become a professional amateur. On February 17th, I did the first hobby. Now four months later, I conduct a special edition interview–with myself. 1/3 of the way there…Not too shabby.
If there’s anything people should get from this interview, it’s that we all should stop just sitting around. We all should just get out there and do something–whether it’s finger painting, unicycle riding, or piloting a plane–we need to take advantage of everything this world has to offer. You never know–you may just find something you are extremely passionate about, and there’s no harm in that.
Once you do standup comedy–nothing seems scary anymore–not flying a plane, not having knives thrown around you, and DEFINITELY not ziplining from tree to tree 650 feet above the ground at speeds of 50-60 mph. No, sir. (That is of course until I do stunt jumping next week–yikes).
When the tour guide asked who wanted to go first, I didn’t even think twice. I raised my hand, volunteered my friend and myself, walked the plank so to say and was off on my way. At 650 feet in the air going that fast, let me tell you something, you’re not thinking about falling to your doom–you’re thinking about living. You’re thinking about how free you feel–how amazing of an experience you are having, how you don’t want this 3,200 foot zip to ever end, and how your smile is going to be plastered to your face for the next few days after completing this. No, you aren’t thinking about falling–you aren’t thinking about landing–You are indeed doing nothing but living.
So many times we don’t take advantage of all the things here in NYC or, really, anywhere for that matter. So I say, just go out there and do something. Surprise yourself. Surprise others. Attack a new craft. Conquer a fear. Live your life.
I didn’t go down to the subway platforms just to be a little bit ridiculous—okay well maybe I did. Every day I walk down the street, my headphones blasting in my ears, and my legs shaking with instinct to dance it out. So often, we are way too concerned with what people will think of us that we hold back. I am tired of holding back. I am tired of being afraid of people seeing what I am really wanting to do. When a tiger or a lion wants to roar—they roar. And when The Hobby Hoarder wants to sing and dance—she sings and dances.—even if it’s in her boxer briefs. When you want to do something—you should do it. Stop worrying—stop waiting—think like Nike and just do it.
Performing in a subway or on a subway platform or out on the street is sometimes referred to as busking. I see people doing this all the time. Sometimes they annoy me, sometimes they thrill me, sometimes they make me laugh, and sometimes they make me ponder. I feel as though I did all of these things for a variety of different people the other night—and it was the greatest feeling in the world. My friend and co-comedy-show-producer, who shot this escapade for me on my iPhone, said it best when he said: It’s great to see what really makes people crack a smile.
I hope you cracked a smile watching this. I cracked a lot of smiles—and a lot of laughs doing it.
If you ever say you can’t- you won’t. Stop can’ting and won’ting and start trying and doing. It’s called life so start living it.
When I scheduled a unicycle lesson with Cody over email a few weeks ago, I didn’t know what I was in for. I’ve seen people unicycle before–and I knew it was hard–but I didn’t know just how truly difficult it would be–to even get on the one wheeled mobile.
But on the day of the hobby, I began getting a bit nervous–which is odd for me–I don’t get nervous–heck I let a guy use me as his knife throwing target-but this–this seemed dangerous. So I went out and bought a helmet, elbow pads, wrist guards, and knee pads, and pretended I wasn’t scared I’d nose dive off this thing onto my face–when truly I was terrified.
The terror ultimately become my biggest enemy. I’ve learned recently that when I am anxious about something going well or right–and what people may think of me–I laugh like a hyena through nearly the entire event. On my first attempt, I giggled like a little girl trying to do the monkey bars the entire time. My frame of mind had affected me so much that I asked immediately how to get off this contraption.
But after watching Cody go again, I gave it another shot. Frustrated, I dismounted from the bike–and then tried once more…with much more success. So it goes back to the old saying–if at first you don’t succeed–try, try again.
Oh and the Hobby Hoarder even got to experience something else that was really rewarding–another person–and friend also giving the unicycle their own first try. What does this mean? You should really stop saying can’t–and won’t and start getting out there–Start living life. Check out Mike Bonner’s succesful attempt:
“Why do you want to play the steel pan drums?” Freddie Harris II asks me.
I look at him, and I think to myself, “Why not?” Then I take a moment, and I say, “Because I want to culturally diversify myself–I want to take a stab at something new–and well because I was asked to leave the school band in the 4th grade, because I squeaked too loudly on the clarinet.”
::Laughs::
“Good enough for me,” he says.
Freddie Harris II is Freddy Harris III’s father. And he’s an awesome teacher. They both took me–a complete novice to the steel pan drum—and taught me how to play a scale, harmonize, and “march.” Together, we all had a great time.
Hmm… Maybe steel pan drumming is my future… or … maybe not–with bloopers like this one:
Inhale. Exhale. Aim. Shoot. Fire. Inhale. Exhale. Do again.
The last time, and only time I shot a gun, I was on a camping trip with my sixth grade boyfriend at the time. His father, his brother, he and several other men were excited to head out to middle of the woods at a deserted camp site and shoot guns. As a guest, I went along for the ride, believing I wouldn’t have to touch a gun.
Half-way through their target practice, the older–very good looking–brother handed me a gun–a pistol–and said here–aim at the target and shoot. Nervously, I took the gun. I shot, and I fired. Shaking, I handed the gun back to the older brother of my then boyfriend and said, “Not for me–not again–this is scary.”
I believed that my first time pulling a trigger would be my last time. But as the hobby project came into play, I decided that learning how to shoot a gun–for real–and safely–would be interesting and useful–in case of an absolute emergency. You see as an avid Law and Order SVU watcher–as well as action movie fan, I have always predicted that I’d be the girl to try to shoot the gun and discover very quickly that the safety was still on. In real life–this could be the difference between my living and my dying (in worse scenario–of course). The lesson at the West Side Rifle & Pistol Range served as the perfect educational model for learning to use a gun.
Two of my friends joined me, and we anxiously awaited our instructor on the day of our lesson. As our teacher described the parts of the gun, my palms began to sweat more and more. “I was really going to pick up a gun again.” As he told us that we needed to find out which eye was our dominant eye, I stared at him, and attempted to mimmick him…He laughed. “You are doing it wrong.”
I began to shake a bit more. “If I can’t get the parts right where we don’t hold a gun…How will this guy ever trust me pulling a trigger?”
But he did…and I shot-I aimed-I fired–safely–fifty times. Looking a bit nerdy too:
The Hobby Hoarder 