At age sixteen, most ordinary American youth have dreams of cars and driving cars. Our very own Chris Woodward is no ordinary American youth. Upon turning sixteen in 2001, Woodward was asked by his parents, "What brand of automobile would you like to sport about town in? Bentley? Maybach? Or does our favorite son want Grandpa's prized Duesenberg?"
Woodward pretended to contemplate his parents' question for a moment, but he already knew his answer. "Mum, Poppa, I want to relieve myself of this aristocratic life, give up my future Earldom, and write short comedic stories for a website that exists on some rarely-traveled back alley of the new-fangled Internet."
His parents gasped, but young Woodward continued:
"I care not of the childish concerns and materialistic desires attached to automobiles. I don't want my license to drive; nay, I want my license to write!" With this statement, Woodward thrust his hand toward the heavens and a bolt of lightning met it, leaving no scars or permanent brain damage, just a small ID card that read, "Christopher Alabaster Woodward IX, Breaker of the Woodward Lineage and Rebel for Life has been granted this License to Write."
After that day, his parents forcibly adopted one of the kids from the TV show Home Improvement and made him their favorite son. Woodward was relegated forever to second place.
In celebration of Woodward's choice and the many great works he's provided us over the last five years, take a little time out of your day today and become Aware of his work.
I bet that Home Improvement kid still feels inferior at the dinner table during the holidays, even if Mr. Woodward is relegated to dining at the folding table in the corner with the kids and crazy Uncle Mario.
Legend has it that Uncle Mario and Chris put on a dynamite family two-man play of A Christmas Carol every year. A spot-on Tiny Tim, I say! Although it baffles the family every Memorial Day, it is still a good show.
Keep on rocking, young Woodward, as this is just a stepping stone for your true calling...writing fake stories for Penthouse Letters.
Before we go all crazy here and start painting this is dark tones, let's try and remember that divine sparks derail family traditions all the time. And, honestly, those boys on "Home Improvement" were pretty good kids, as far as kids in the Post-War Era go.
Also, it should be pointed out that if the stories in Penthouse Letters are fake, then my whole adult life has been based on lies. At least the parts of it that aren't centered on holiday recipes I collect from the pages of Woman's Day and Family Circle.