Transcript
A (0:00)
Hey, folks, this is Kevin. On this week's episode of Risk, you'll hear Michael J. Bennett.
B (0:05)
Revenge is a dish that's best served cold. And I gotta tell you, it was very, very cold on Christmas morning.
A (0:16)
That and more. But first, there's still time to sign up for one of my next two eight week online storytelling workshops. One starts on January 14th, and we'll meet every Wednesday evening at 8:30 Eastern Time. 8:30 Eastern Time. Then I'm teaching another Sunday morning one starting on February 15th, with each Zoom session starting at 10:00am Eastern Time. Email me at kevinrisk-show.com to jump on in.
C (0:48)
We'll be right back.
A (0:51)
Now here's the show.
D (1:03)
Sam.
A (1:32)
Hello, folks, this is Risk, the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. I'm Kevin Allison. This is Will Taylor behind me now. And this is holiday blues 3. We get so many amazing story pitches for holiday stories each year, and some are on the more serious or sorrowful or salty side. And so we've begun this tradition of sharing these Holiday Blues episodes, you know, shortly after the New Year's celebrations have subsided and the hangovers are starting to clear. Now in a little bit, we're going to hear from Jessica Piscatelli Robinson. But before that, a story from Michael J. Bennett. And here he is now with the story we call Santa's Revenge.
B (2:48)
I grew up in a little tiny town in southern Idaho. I'm the oldest of six boys. There were 14 people in my graduating class. It was about 11 miles to the nearest traffic light. We had a lot of professional teachers there, but for some of them, they really had to scrape the bottom of the barrel. We had some teachers that had burned their bridges in other school districts. They might have been on a sex offender list, and the only path they had left for teaching was in our school district. One of these guys was named Tom. He was primarily a coach, but as with a lot of coaches, he was there teaching history but not doing a great job of it. And my entire grade was assigned to his world history class. His lesson plan never varied in the slightest. It was bring something to do. I must have intimidated this coach because I was 6 foot 2 and he was maybe 5 foot 3 with lift tennis shoes. He just had it out for me. Tom was sending me to the superintendent's office on a pretty regular basis, and that usually meant I was getting hit on the butt with a hardwood paddle. That was just the way things at that school district worked. At the end of the semester, he was Expected to hand in a final exam to the administration. So on the last day of each semester, he'd pass out the test to everybody. And then he'd get up and he'd write the answers on the board. And he'd say, if you're an A student, go ahead and get everything right. If you're a B student, miss a couple. If you're a C student, miss four or five. I'll collect everything in 10 minutes. He just blew it day after day. But I survived the class, and I managed to graduate. I went off to college. I quickly learned that I had been robbed. I had no idea of any sense of world history, nothing. So school didn't go great. I wasn't very well prepared for it. And two and a half years later, I found myself working as a mall Santa. Every day I'd go into work, I'd put on the red suit, I'd glue the white beard to my face, put on the hat, and I'd sit down in that big chair, and the kids would line up and they would come sit on my lap. And every single kid was exactly the same. After the first day, they'd come, sit down, and I'd stroke that beard and say, well, what would you like for Christmas this year? And they'd give me the list of 10 to 15 things they wanted. And my job was to look them in the eye, stroke my beard and say, I don't know. And look at them, just peer deep into their eyes and say, well, I don't know. I've been keeping my eye on you pretty close this year, and I happen to know that you could do a better job of hanging up your coat when you get home from school. And you need to complain a lot less when you get vegetables for dinner that you don't like. And if they had any brothers and sisters with them, I'd stare them right in the eye and say, and you have been fighting with your brothers and sisters entirely too much. If it didn't happen on Christmas, well, Santa just couldn't pull it off this year, given your track record of behavior. And their jaws would drop and their bottom lip would start to quiver and their eyes to get really big. And you could tell the tears were just about to come. And the parents are standing there behind them and fold their arms across their chest and say, you tell them, santa, just when things looked hopeless, this is when I'd pull it out of the fire. And I'd say, but I'll tell you what. I know you're a good kid. So if you can work on those things that we discussed between now and Christmas, we'll see what Santa can do. And I'd hand them a little tiny candy cane and pat them on the head, and they'd get down off my lap, and they've had their call to repentance, and they go walking down the aisle. And I have done my job. I have fulfilled my end of the bargain. Santa makes no promises. One Thursday evening, just before Christmas, here through the line comes Tom, my world history teacher and coach from my high school. He's bringing this little boy who looks like he's about 5 or 6 years old. And I sat there on the chair behind that white scratchy beard and that red hat pulled down over my face, and I looked that teacher in the eyes, and I realized he has no idea who I am. So his little boy comes up and he's all excited and sits on my.