Still, I found myself very involved in public speaking a few weeks ago—once as speaker, then as a judge for a student speakers contest.

The good news is that both events gave me the opportunity to interact with some very bright students from Los Gatos and Saratoga. The bad news is that one of the two groups had to listen to me speak.

Not the first group. That day I just listened. It was my honor to serve as a judge at the local level of the Student Speakers Contest sponsored by the Los Gatos Lions Club. I just sat back in my chair and marveled at the poise, enthusiasm, intelligence and general demeanor—no, not of the Lions, of the young speakers!

They were speaking to the topic, "terrorism and world security," and they were impressive—very impressive, indeed.

Wondering why I was there? Me, too. Why they selected me to participate as one of the judges, I'll never know. When it comes to public speaking ... well, I guess you could say I'm a good listener.

So they invited me to act as a judge. Me ... a guy who doubled over at the mere thought of presenting an oral book report in English class. In fact, the extent of my public speaking in high school was a short—very short!—speech at a football rally.

You see, we were playing a big game (or as big a game as a team with only one victory could play), and I happened to be the captain that week (no real reflection on me—the coach pretty much rotated the honor by selecting two different guys every week to be co-captains). Well, after riling up the crowd with a "win one for the Gipper" speech, the coach called me up to the microphone to address the student body.

The football bleachers at Helm Field were packed with screaming, rabid student fans (OK, so they were just a bunch of kids who would do anything to get out of class for an hour). And with no time to prepare, I was asked to say a few words about that night's game.

Well, a few words is what he asked for, and a few words is exactly what he got.

"Well, uh, we're playing Leigh tonight," I mumbled into the microphone. "Um, a Los Gatos team has never lost to Leigh before ... and we don't plan to be the first one."

The crowd went wild. The cheerleaders madly shook their orange and black pom pons. And the pep band broke into a rousing, rather off-key rendition of "On Los Gatos." So I figured that was it, and I snuck back to my seat among the other players.

Not exactly the kind of speech that qualifies me to judge talented high school speakers, but I was honored to be asked nonetheless.

It was very refreshing to hear a teen speak for almost 10 minutes without uttering words like "man," "dude" and "I'mall."

That day inspired me for my own speaking assignment, though I must admit that I was a little nervous about this one. I had to speak to a group of eighth-graders at Redwood Middle School during their career week.

I thought, "They're what, 13 years old?" I remember when my kids were 13—they didn't listen to a word I said. They were pretty sure that I was an idiot and that they knew everything I knew and then some.

So before I went in to face this group, I asked my oldest son for a little advice. He teaches freshman English at the high school level, so he works with kids about that age.

"First of all, either be really funny or feed them—knowing you, I suggest you buy a bag of candy bars," he advised. "But the most important thing is, don't let them know you're afraid—they can smell fear."

Candy, indeed! I can be funny, I thought. But just in case, I picked up four dozen cookies at the bakery.

I told them that for every question they asked, they could have a cookie. It worked for a while; then they started asking questions without expecting some sort of reward. They turned out to be bright, inquisitive kids with some very interesting, stimulating questions.

So thanks to Amy Locatelli's eighth-grade class at Redwood and speaker finalists Roey Rahmil, Anton Zanotto and Ina Soh in Los Gatos, I had the opportunity to discover firsthand just what sort of talented students we have in this area.

It's sad to think that could change in the coming years because of a short-sighted state government that doesn't value education.

Want to talk? Call me at 408.354.3110, ext. 31, or drop me a note at dsparrer@svcn.com.