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Socrate’s Secret

5 Min Read

Lately, I’ve been kicking around the idea of getting myself some nice business cards. However, there’s just one problem: I have no idea how to describe myself in a professional context.

Yes, the dream is to have underneath my name the description My Own ----- Boss, but ironically I couldn’t be further from that at the moment, on account of me currently serving not one but two mistresses.1Mistress, as in the feminine form of Master. Please do not mistake that phrase as an admission of multiple romantic partners. I’m not that cool. So I need to come up with something more accurate in the meantime.

Currently, I would say my best guess is Half-Ass Life Philosopher. Yes, it may be a little pompous to try to claim the moniker of Philosopher–that’s why I want to stress the Half-Ass qualifier here. But, I gotta confess: I really do enjoy just sitting around and thinking about life.

Now, I wish I were a more noble breed of a thinker, pondering the depths of the universe, questioning the basis of our knowledge of reality, and what-not, but let’s face it, I’m no Plato.

I’m more like one of those modern “found art” artists who don’t make the art themselves, rather they just “find” it, and then somehow claim that they deserve accolades for just pointing at something random and saying “Hey look at that thing. I, as an inherently interesting person, do bequeath and impart my interestingness-hood to that thingy. Behold! When you look at it, think of how awesome I am!”

Or something like that.

The point of the story is, there are interesting bits of wisdom floating all around us; all you have to do is reach out and grab one of the little nuggets, and you, too, can call yourself a “philosopher.”

But if you hope to find yourself some life philosophy, it really helps to know where to look.

Me? I personally recommend you start by looking underneath the mattress of your brother’s bed…


You see, me and my older brother J. came of age in the mid-nineties. We didn’t have any of the awesome technology that offers an unlimited supply of entertainment and content that the kids these days have. On top of that, we rarely had much spending money, so we had to use our imaginations and be resourceful on a regular basis just to survive.

To meet our candy needs, we did things like, say, dressing up as twins for Halloween.

Instead of going out and buying the latest back-beat laden musical album on tape or CD, we spent many a hour listening intently to those radio stations we weren’t supposed to, waiting for our favorites jams to come on, and then in turn excitedly jamming the Record button to capture those sweet, sweet forbidden tunes on our trusty recordable cassette tapes.

And to placate the urges of our youthful curiosity, we had to resort to the classic tactic of intercepting Victoria’s Secret catalogs in the mail. Or, if one was really lucky, Frederick’s of Hollywood.

When I was in eighth grade and he a sophomore in high school, due to a series of asshole-induced life events, J. and I found ourselves living as illegal residents on a California military base with the family of one of our older siblings. Due to the lack of space, we were forced to share a room.

But, on the bright side, at least we had our own beds.

That came in handy when one day I fortuitously came across a Victoria’s/Frederick’s piece of high-brow literature in the family mailbox, and needed a secure location in which to store it.

If I had been more forward thinking, I would have stashed it under J.’s mattress. However, that was not the case, and instead kept the incriminating goods close to me under my own mattress.

Eventually the inevitable happened, and our dear mother came across the contraband reading material.

Now, one would think that it would have been an open-and-shut case against me, right? After all, the catalog was literally found on my personal property.

It just so happened, though, that I knew of a little ol’ philosopher named Occam, and his infamous Razor, which roughly states, “the simplest solution is most likely the right one.”2https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Occam’s_razor

And in this case, I knew that Mom would find it much simpler to believe the theory that J.–a perpetual rebel and thorn in her side–would be keeping his naughty magazines under the mattress of his Mama’s Boy little brother.

So you better ----- well believe I told her that J. was trying to frame me, instead of the other way around.

Even when she gathered both of us in the room and demanded we get to the bottom of The Mystery of Which of My Teen Boys Has Been Looking at Lingerie Catalogs, I managed to stick to my guns and maintain the lie.3For the record, this was waaaay out of character for me; I’m horribly bad at lying.

Ohhhhh, was J. ever pissed. Despite his protestations that it wasn’t his, and his “why are you doing this to me?!?” hurled in my general direction, Mom found my character to be much more impeccable than his, and in the end he got his ass grounded for a week, while I got off scot-free.

I really don’t feel too bad for making him my patsy, though. Growing up, he had a real bad habit of dragging my innocent-if-not-under-the-influence-of-others butt into all sorts of trouble.

I may have been a rascal, but he was a ----- troublemaker. It was nice to turn the tables on him for once…

The immoral of the story is this:

Kids, take the time to build that sacred trust with your parents. One day you just might need to cash in a bit of that currency to frame your brother for your embarrassing misdeeds…

Figure 1. Sorry, Bro, but the glove doth fit…

Oh, speaking of Victoria’s Secret, one time when I was in high school I saw one of the “Angels” in a totally different context–on E! or some entertainment channel like that–and turned to my stepmother and made some comment like “Hey, I know her from someone! Cool! I just can’t remember from where though…”

It wasn’t until later that I realized where exactly I had seen her before, and that in theory, her face should have been completely unfamiliar to me.

The only thing I could do then was just hope and pray Daisy4My stepmother’s alias. would never put two and two together and realize that maybe just perhaps perchance I was pilfering her postal publications on occasion.

Fortunately she never did, but I did learn a valuable lesson from it at least:

There’s nothing like getting ratted out by your own sub-conscious reaction when you recognize something you totally shouldn’t. Kids, keep your nose clean and hopefully you’ll never have to worry about becoming Your Own ----- Judas.

Like I said, there’s wisdom to be discovered everywhere.

Footnotes & References:[+]

Kandy Karma Parts 2 and 3

4 Min Read

Note: this is the 2nd and final installment of the Kandy Karma saga. If you haven’t already, please read Part 1 first.


Previously, on the Point of the Story: the sun seemed to be shining on the dog’s ass, so to speak…


Part II

And the sun did indeed shine that fateful brisk day in 1990. It was November 2nd–a Friday–and my class had a field trip planned for that day. After a few frames at the local bowling alley, we headed to the nearby park for playing and lunch.

This being only 2 days after scoring a massive amount of kiddy blow, I still had ample supply in my grocery bag. And I did what any 9-year-old successful criminal would have done.

I got cocky.

I’m not sure if it was out of generosity, bragging, or an attempt to buy friends, but I brought my whole cache of treats along for the ride.

Once we got to the park, we left all of our lunches at a covered picnic table and went off and played for an hour or so.

When I came back, I couldn’t locate the grocery bag. I had just misplaced it…right?

It quickly turned into one of those scenes from America’s Most Wanted or Unsolved Mysteries where they recreate the moment that a careless parent becomes increasingly frantic trying to find the kid they lost in the park.1Spoiler alert: they were abducted and murdered. Every last one of them. It was the 80s.

I turned that place upside down looking for it.

I interrogated all my classmates, trying to find the smallest clue as to the bag’s fate.

I begged for my teachers to do anything they could.

But it was all in vain. The body–er, I mean “bag”– was never recovered.

Exhibit A. A satellite’s rendering of the scene of the crime, Doling Park, Springfield, MO. Also visible from lower orbit: our church and school.
Exhibit B. Eyewitnesses say the missing bag of candy was hanging out under a picnic table some time before being tragically abducted by a stranger in the park.

Even to this day, it feels like a pair of knives stabbing me in the heart and the gut simultaneously when I recall that moment. I was heart broken–and apparently scarred for life.

I will never regret flouting all authority that my mother and the church held over me in order to get all the candies.

But I sure as ----- regret taking all those candies with me on that ----- field trip…

WHY, GOD? WHY!?

Oh. Right…

Touché, Lord & Savior. Touché.


Part III

For the last several years, I have had the great joy of living only a few blocks from my mom. I would argue the best part of this arrangement is going for lovely evening walks with her and my elder daughter, especially in the Fall.

A year or so ago during one of these walks, the Elder had asked me to tell her tales from my childhood. As it was nearing Halloween, I decided to tell her the tragic tale of how a pair of ingenious young lads overcame all odds just to have a normal Halloween, but in the end to only have their hopes dashed against the rocks just like they did to babies back in the Bible times. I.e. I told her this story.

As I was telling it in the presence of Mom, all the pieces of the puzzle came together in my head, albeit 25 years expo facto.

Me: “YOU! It was you, wasn’t it!”

Mom: “Huh?”

Me: “You found the candy in my nightstand and decided to teach me a lesson, didn’t you?”

Mom: “Uh…”

Me: “Where were you around 11:30 a.m. on Friday, November 2nd, 1990?!? You were in college, so it would have been easy to sneak over to the park in between classes and slip off with my candy.”

Figure 1. Artist’s rendering of the how I imagined myself in the moment.2Partial Credit: http://digitalevidencegroup.com/trial-presentation/, Google Maps
Exhibit C. Most abducted children are taken by someone they know. Google Maps shows that we cannot rule out the possibility that my candy was abducted by someone I knew all too well.

Mom: “No…”

Me: “It’s Vanilla Ice and M.C. Hammer all over again! You had a habit of slyly taking the things that brought us boys joy and then pretend like they never existed. It matches your M.O. perfectly!”

Mom: “Well, actually…”

Me: “CASE CLOSED!!!”

Mom: “This is the first I’m hearing about any of this.”

Me: …

Me: “GOD DAMMIT. After all I’ve been through, can’t a boy at least have some closure?”

Karma is ----- real, I tell you. And that ----- never forgets.

Content created on: 23 October 2019 (Wednesday)

Footnotes & References:[+]

Kandy Karma Part 1

6 Min Read

Note: this is the 1st installment of the Kandy Karma saga. If you have already read this, please feel free to skip to Parts 2 & 3.


Free candy?

Socially-sanctioned dress-up playtime?

No age restrictions?

On it’s face, Halloween seems like a deal too good to be true.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from attempting to be my own ----- boss is that everything costs something. Everything. Let’s not be naive here. Halloween surely isn’t somehow a miraculous exception to this.

So…what is the true price of Halloween? And, ninja, please, don’t answer with “your soul.”

The Good E’en before All Hallows Day seems to always find a way to bite those who partake firmly in the ass. Perhaps that should be expected, given that it is essentially an exercise in sacreligion?1It’s a weak pun. Get it? Sack, as in the sack of candy in which you collect your treasure. Nevertheless, we persist.

Typically the Revenge of H is in the form of sugar-induced bellyaches and premature trips to the dentist for the kiddos, while later in life, it is often run-of-the-mill hangovers and the realization that there is almost assuredly photographic evidence of your cross-dressing2See: Exhibit A (if only it were the only one…). escapades–you just don’t know who has said evidence.

You know, regrettable-but-mostly-forgettable type stuff.

Every now and then, though, like a razor-blade stuck in a free apple, the pain cuts a little deeper and gets stuck in your throat…


The Fall of 1990 found my mom, my brother 1SkinnyJ, aka 1SJ, and myself in our second year of a grand adventure living in Springfield, Missouri.3See also: A Most Excellent Life Lesson. The previous year, we had moved there from dusty-ass Kansas so Mom could work towards a degree at Baptist Bible College.

Figure 1: I’m just going to just preempt all y’all haters…
(Original source:4Napoloean Dynamite (2004), GIF source:5https://giphy.com/gifs/KWfhruKxPtQPK)

I would posit that the hallmark of this “adventure” was that our lives were All Things Jesus throughout our time there.

Church. School. College. Sunday mornings. Sunday evenings. For some ----- reason, Saturday mornings.

And, Wednesday evenings.

Not only did we have a mandatory church service on Wednesday evenings, we usually had to go to Awanas Club6For the curious: https://www.awana.org/us-curriculum/elementary/tt/ beforehand. If you’re not familiar with Awanas, it’s basically just Boy/Girl Scouts having a love-child with a Sunday School teacher.

That year I was in 4th grade and 1SJ was in 6th, so, unfortunately, we both were involuntarily committed to Awanas. Inconvenient in general, but nothing more burdensome than all the other time-sucks from that period in our lives.

Now, the previous year, in 1989, our church, ye ol’ Baptist Temple, though eschewing all things of the devil, was kind enough to host a Fall Festival to give us sanctified children an alternative to the pagan rituals being performed in the Outside World. Despite it being indoors, it had all the other trappings of Trick-or-Treating. Namely, a shit-ton of candy.

In 1990, however, the stars misaligned and ----- us all over.

Figure 2. October 1990. Might as well be the end of the Mayan calendar.

Just take a good look at Figure 2 and tell me why this particular October is more terrifying than any other October.

You are indeed correct: the winning answer is, “But if Awanas and church already have Wednesdays booked, then how–? But what about–? But, candy…BUT WHAT ABOUT THE CANDY!?!”

For some reason the pricks at Baptist Temple just decided to have Awanas and church as normal, and pretend like nothing fun was happening outside. And we wonder from whence arises religion’s reputation of being a bunch of sadists. Better call Robert Stack, cuz it’s a real Unsolved Mystery.

Anyways, this calendaric catastrophe was further compounded by the fact that Mom was a bit of an expert in health-nuttery, so us boys were sugar-deprived the whole time we lived with her. So it wasn’t like we had any other decent sources of sweetness–just whatever we could acquire on holidays.

Halloween was to us what Valentine’s Day is to a florist: all the action only really happens one day out of the year.7I’ll refrain from deriving any humor out of this phrase in the context of marriage…

Now I don’t remember who’s idea it was–1SJ‘s on account of him being the Lead Instigator, as per usual, or mine as I’m a born problem-solver–but it being 1990, we could not let that aggression stand…man.8https://youtu.be/KjdKAYBbeZk

Our plan was fairly simple: ditch Awanas for a quick round of Trick-or-Treating, then make it back to church for the regular service. No problem, right?

Well, it wasn’t that simple. First, we had no transportation. Fortunately, that was no problem, since we lived a couple of blocks from church so we would be just fine being on foot.

The real quandary was procuring costumes. We had zero resources for acquiring anything, yet we had too much pride to go as a couple of poor-ass kids.

Though a few years my elder, 1SJ and I pretty much looked the same age most of our shared childhood. Even more importantly, we looked like a pair of kids straight outta Children of the Corn.9In retrospect, that’s probably what we should have said we were, but I’m not sure we were aware of that cultural reference at that age.

Wait a second–my fact-checker is trying to get my attention.

[Please hold…]

J.K. Kidding–it turns out I’ve been citing the wrong movie most of my life. Village of the Damned is the right movie.

Regardless of which movie we looked like we were out of, the best we could come up with was to go as “twins,” though in the moment we thought it was only slightly less lame than the default, going as Children of the Thrift Store.

So, while we didn’t have any proper equipment at all, what we did have was the sheer will to get our share of the sugars. Channelling our inner MacGyvers, we rustled up a couple of dark turtlenecks and a few paper grocery bags. It was game time, baby.

Figure 3. 1SJ (Left) and me (Right), as depicted in a 1995 recreation of our clandestine Halloween mission.
(Source: 10https://youtu.be/puwr-E-q1bk?t=119, from Village of the Damned (1995).)

As dusk fell, we pretended to head off to Awanas, and after screwing around for 15 minutes or so, back-tracked to the house to get our gear.

It was time to hit the neighborhood.

And hit it we did.

While we feared that we might even be denied goodies for not having good enough costumes, it turns our that going as twins worked 20x better than we could have imagined. In the 10 or so instances when we were asked what we were, almost every time our answer “twins” was met with incredulity–no one could believe that we weren’t twins for real!

We raced from house to house, trying to squeeze every ounce of the precious minutes before we had to get back in time for the regular church service. Despite having a very narrow window of opportunity, we sure the hell got our lack-of-money’s worth.

We rushed back to the house to drop off our illicit goods before scurrying back over to the church, without Mom being any the wiser–we had pulled off the Great Confectionary Heist of 1990 without getting our butts busted!

Later that night, we took inventory and realized that we had made bank on the night. Sweet, sweet bank.

Each grocery bag was well over half full. Now remember, these were paper grocery bags, so it was quite the haul. We would be set until almost Thanksgiving.

On our thieving honor, we promised the other to discretely stash the goods in our nightstands and only dig into them when Mom was out of the house. She must never find out, lest she rob of us our spoils and administer a pair o’ whoopins.

In the end, religion and socio-economic status weren’t enough to hold these bad boyz down. We had planned and executed the perfect crime and got away with it. So yeah…life was good.

I mean, hell, the Universe was literally making it rain candy down on us.

I guess it’s as they say, “the sun’s gotta shine on the dog’s ass every now and then!”


Oh, and remember how I mentioned “All Things Jesus“? I came across this bit o’ internet gold11Source:https://www.pinterest.com/pin/187040190747083190/ when I was verifying that I had my “dog’s ass” idioms straight:

Figure 4. He’s always watching you…

Who says there isn’t a Cosmic Force with a sense of humor?

To be continued…

Content created on: 23 October 2019 (Wednesday)

Footnotes & References:[+]

Paging Dr. Mix-A-Lot

6 Min Read

Wanna hear a fantastic–but true–story?

On a dreary Seattle day in May 1992, a brave dark knight hoisted himself upon a giant papier-mâché derrière and spoke truth into a flat and listless world:

I like big butts and I cannot lie
You other brothers can’t deny
That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung, want to pull up tough
‘Cause you notice that butt was stuffed
Deep in the jeans she’s wearing…

“Baby Got Back”, Sir Mix-a-lot,MACK DADDY (1992)

“I like big butts and I cannot lie”–the 8 words that inspired an entire generation. Well, maybe not the whole generation, but at least every boy between the ages of 10 and 14 in 1992.

But what happens when that sub-generation of boys become men decades on? Well, as part of that cohort, I can answer that question for you.

For the most part, nothing out of the ordinary.

Deep down, however, we all have a longing–nay, a yearning–to one day be like our hero Mix-A-Lot, and be able to proclaim to the whole world our appreciation of bubblicious backsides.1Mix-A-Lot implies that his love is directed towards female rumps in particular, but that’s not a hard and fast rule. Like some junior high version of Treadstone, we’re just sleeper agents waiting to be activated.

Now, I have a friend who was also part of this particular segment of the population. Like the rest of us, he had every ----- line of that song committed to memory. And also like the rest of us, he grew older2While “he grew up” sounds much more fluid, I think implying that there was an increase in maturity level would be inaccurate and misleading in this case. as time passed. But instead of following our collective dream, he caved under the pressure of reality and became a doctor.

Wait, wait, not that kind of doctor. He’s not like Dr. Dana Scully from Fox’s The X-Files, who makes ----- sure to let you know that “it’s okay because [she’s] a medical doctor.”3https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvAYnFh0Zdo I’m sure he wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea now.

True, any flight he takes automatically has a doctor on board, but not the kind the flight attendant really meant to ask for when that one guy had a heart attack. They really do need to train them to be more specific. Save us all a very awkward situation.4Okay, this part is NOT a true story. But I’m sure its a scenario that’s ran through the minds of plenty of non-medical doctors.

No, he’s more of the philosophical variety. You know, the kind that actually use their brains in the course of earning their credentials.

He is–or at least was–a scientist.

Our paths crossed when we both were working in the same MRI lab in Honolulu (Hawai’i, of course), developing custom pulse sequences together. Now, it’s important to understand that the MRI crowd has a sense of acronymic humor, at least when it comes to naming new techniques, etc.

For example, two of the key methods we used in our research were called “Generalized Autocalibrating Partially Parallel Acquisitions (GRAPPA),” and “Controlled Aliasing In Parallel Imaging Results In Higher Acceleration (CAIPIRINHA)”. If you were more of an alcoholic, it wouldn’t require me pointing out to you that these are, in fact, the names of two adult mixed beverages.

Clever.

And who doesn’t appreciate a good bit o’ wit every now and then. Certainly that guy did.

Sadly, though, my friend didn’t quite thrive as an MRI scientist. After almost a year of inefficient toiling in the lab, he had finally accomplished enough where he was able to start thinking about making his first contribution to the field (like me, he had previously worked in MRI’s scientific granddaddy, NMR, not MRI itself).

When he started to write his paper, it was pretty evident that he was excited that it was at last his turn to join in on the phonetic fun. If this was his only shot at flexing his creative muscles, he told me, then he was “sure as shit going to make it count.”

Impressively, after engaging in what could only be described as a mashup of scientific Scrabble and a Ouija board stuck in middle school, he was able to come up with a completely accurate description of the work at hand, while taking one step closer to his destiny.

Yes, future scientists, engineers, and medical professionals were forever going to remember him as the creator of “Accelerated Spectral-Spatial Multiplexing And SuscepTibility Artifact Reduction.”

He’s no proctologist, but that didn’t stop him from him becoming…”the ASS-MASTAR.”

Or, more accurately, from almost becoming the ASS-MASTAR.

Enter our boss, Vandy,5More or less kind of his real name. who is probably more worthy of the nickname The Dude than any other alias. Both in appearance and attitude, Vandy was straight out of the Big Lebowski. While professional, having been born and raised in Hawai’i, he definitely had the laid back island vibe, and a pretty decent sense of humor to match.

When approached with a draft of this ground-breaking manuscript–which at this point was basically just the magnificent title and the list of authors–Vandy did indeed get a good laugh out of it. Apparently, it reminded him of one of the monster trucks from the Mike Judge/Luke Wilson classic, Idiocracy.6Watch the scene for yourself here. And of course, naming anything in the scientific realm “ASS-MASTAR” was just inherently humorous.

After getting his giggles mostly out, he delivered the solemn news, albeit while still chuckling: “Man, you can’t name your paper that. But maybe it would work for a conference poster…”

The heartbreak hung heavy in the air.

However, it was evident that that last part of what Vandy said left a glimmer of hope where it probably shouldn’t have.


Eventually the paper was renamed something more appropriate.7Anderson, Robert J., Benedikt A. Poser, and V. Andrew Stenger. “Simultaneous multislice spectral‐spatial excitations for reduced signal loss susceptibility artifact in BOLD functional MRI.” Magnetic resonance in medicine 72.5 (2014): 1342-1352. Mind-numbingly boring, informative, inoffensive–I suppose some people consider those good things, right?

Anyways, in the middle of the process of fully fleshing out his experiment and forming it into a full-fledged journal article, we had our big annual “ISMRM”8International Society for Magnetic Resonance in Medicine, www.ismrm.org conference–the conference in the field of MRI.

A condensed version of ASS-MASTAR–with the new, very unsexy title–was submitted and was accepted to be presented in the form of an electronic poster, or “e-poster.”

Now of all the formats available–traditional poster, e-poster, and a 12-minute talk–the e-poster probably had the lowest visibility of the three, as it was pretty much just a Powerpoint presentation that the interested party could click through at their own leisure during a specific 1-hour window.

Even by the most optimistic estimates, that meant that probably a maximum of 5 people would ever see such a presentation. So what better time to throw in a little Easter egg at the end to reward those few souls taking an interest in his work, right (see Figure 1 below)?

Figure 1. The reward for clicking through 29 slides of “SMS SPSP Excitation for Reduced Signal Loss Artifact in BOLD fMRI.”

Wrong.

The night before my friend’s 1-hour slot to present the undercover ASS-MASTAR, Vandy wanted to meet up and briefly go through the presentation together just to make sure everything looked good.

In a textbook example of an “unforced error”, they continued past Slide 29, and Vandy seemed genuinely surprised by what he found on Slide 30.

“Dude! You can’t include that in the presentation! Most people would find it humorous, but there are a lot of Brits with sticks up their asses in this business. I can only imagine them harrumphing indignantly if they saw this. What were you thinking?!?”

And in response:

“YOU!!! It was your idea to save it for the conference. How the hell was I supposed to know I couldn’t take you for your word?!? Goddammit, Vandy, don’t blame me for bad judgement when I was just following your suggestion!”

But it didn’t matter. In the end, Slide 30 was censored.

The ASS-MASTAR would never see the light of day. And just like that–whoosh!–the dream of an entire generation of early-90s 12 year old boys was snuffed out by responsibility and reason.

The point of the story is, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.

And now, if you’ll forgive me if I seem a bit obsessed with the matter, but as ASS-MASTAR of this domain, don’t count on me every asking permission to speak freely on all things rear-related…


By now, you’re probably wondering who this genius-before-his-time friend of mine was.

His name? Dr. Keyser Söze.9OF COURSE it’s me I’m talking about in the story. Who else is in this ----- world is formerly-ish a scientist, witty AF, and is pre-occupied with dat ass? P.S. #ThirdPersonHumbleBrag.

True story.

Now, like me–er, I mean “Dr. Söze”–you can be the MASTAR of your own ASS with these sweet, sweet yoga pants! Perfect for doing side-bends and sit-ups. Just please don’t lose that butt.


Figure 2: BONUS! I had a cameo appearance in the music video for Baby Got Back, right at the 2:32 mark.

Footnotes & References:[+]

Finding Yourself on the Fairy Farm

7 Min Read

Some people know where they belong.

Typically accompanied with a strong sense of identity, this “deluxe package” model of human being knows themselves well, knows their role in society, and has full confidence that they are in the social circle that’s a right fit for them.

Gee, that sure sounds nice, doesn’t it?

As you may have guessed, I don’t consider myself to fall into this category. I’m not a completely lost soul, but I definitely feel like a wandering one.

I’ve lived most of my life in gray areas, hoping to fit in somewhere, while at the same time scared Scheiße-less of actually fitting in. Amongst my cool friends, I’m the nerd; likewise, I’m the cool kid when surrounded by nerdier amigos.

Another example would be that I can’t decide if I’m urban/hipster, or rural at heart. Knowing my luck, I’m actually–heavens forbid–a bougie suburbanite. Egads. Perish that thought.

While I think I secretly thrive on not completely fitting in anywhere, I have a strong desire for predictability and stability, and this keeps my soul restless with yearning for a community to call home.

Not too long ago I was listening to a podcast called Three Questions with Andy Richter. If you’re not aware of who he is, he is probably best known as Conan O’Brien’s late-night comedic side kick. In other words, a funny guy.

In this particular episode he was interviewing another comic. If I haven’t pointed it out before, let me do so now: when the muggles aren’t around to hear, comedians will refer to themselves as “comics”. I’m not sure why I find this so humorous, but I do.

Anyways, both Andy and his guest were recounting what it was like to realize that comedy was where they belonged. In both cases they described it as “finding [their] people”, and how wonderful it was to feel like they finally belonged somewhere after having struggled to fit in their whole lives.

Hearing them talk about it that way made my heart long for the same thing for myself.

And then a surprising thought caught me off guard: “Hey wait…am I a comic? Is that where I truly belong? Is that where I will thrive, live my #BestLife,1Term used ironically. and feel truly alive?”

With all the self-psychology I find myself dabbling in, you would think I would know myself pretty well inside and out. Turns out that there’s always more under the surface yet to be discovered, and sometimes it can come as shock to one’s self-image.


What I haven’t mentioned is that I’m not alone in my quest for this thing called “tribe.”2If you have to ask, it’s a A Tribe Called Quest pun. Collectively, the Boss Lady and I have been at a loss for awhile as to how we could rebuild our social circle, now that our lives are dominated by children.

Last year when our eldest daughter started kindergarten, somehow we ended up sending her to what I describe as a “daycare on a farm that got out of hand.” As you may recall from the tale of Two Lukes,3Since you didn’t read it when you were supposed to, here’s the link. it was a rather small enterprise, dominated by rascally preschool youths and culminating in a kindergarten class of only 6 kids (33.33% of which were named Luke).

Also key to this story is that the farm/school was in tune with an educational philosophy that shares the same name with a certain grape + nut salad. If you’re not familiar with it, I can sum it up in one word: fairies. For some reason, adherents to this educational model tend to be unusually preoccupied with pretending fairies are real.

Now, I don’t have time to go into a deep dive on that topic right now, but the important thing to note is that we were entering a culture that embraced approaching the world with child-like wonder.

While this had it’s pros and cons, it did leave us wondering…

“Is this where we would finally find ‘our people’?!?”

It was bound to be an adventure full of self-discovery.

The first half of the school year was rather unremarkable, but early in January I got a chance to fly solo and scope out potential kindred spirits. The husband of the woman who ran the school was hosting a Dad’s Night Out on the farm, where us dads of the students were to gather and relax by drinking beer, enjoying a bonfire fueled by a previously full-of-life Christmas tree, and shooting flaming arrows at bales of hay.

I was on the hunt for someone to whom I could say, “You look like a man I could be a best friend with,”4https://youtu.be/wIeHb8_-GPg?t=24 and I was my usual optimistic self about my odds of success.

My first clue that things weren’t going to live up to my expectations was the beer.

It was sort of a beer pot-luck, where we were instructed to bring “six of [our] favorite beers to share.” I arrived alongside two other dads and we struck up a conversation while we were putting our alcoholic contributions into the cooler.

Dad #1: “Oh man, I can’t wait for you to try this Dark Chocolate Coffee Porter I brought. I just know it will bring you as much joy as it brings me!”

Dad #2: “Super. And you guys are going to love this rare IPA my wife got me for Christmas!”

Me: “Well, here’s six randoms beers that I know I sure the hell am never going to drink, but for some reason were in my house. I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to pawn them off on unsuspecting schmucks. Enjoy…”

And then as we achieved critical mass, one dad started sincerely asking how everybody’s days were going, and each response was met with a chorus of “That’s great!” “Awesome!” & “I’m happy for you!”

Meanwhile, I couldn’t help thinking to myself “Why are you ----- so positive?!?” Naturally, I found myself having a really hard time trusting them.5Related reading: Fiddy Percent.

It was becoming clear that I was definitely the Negative Nancy of the crowd. Or perhaps the unpleasant truth was that I’m just a big ol’ dick-head at heart? A real dick-heart, if you will.

Anyways, this trend continued as we migrated to the bonfire to continue conversing.

Dad #3: “So I took my toddlers camping in the middle of the summer…”

Me (under my breath): “What the ----- is wrong with you?”

I could hear a couple of other guys within earshot of my comment stifling their chuckles. So maybe I wasn’t the lone “realist” in the crowd after all. That gave me a brief glimmer of hope.

Later on, one guy brought up the local CineBistro,6One of those trendy new cinema/restaurant combos where the bring the fancy food right to your theatre seat. and I guess we were on the general topic of how nice it was. Anyways that must of inspired me to comment on my experience of how luxurious I personally had found it to be.

Only weeks earlier I had taken the Boss Lady there for our most recent anniversary. So, that had two implications:
1) it’s nice enough for an anniversary date, and
2) that evening ended pretty favorably for me, ergo if the place can warrant some anniversary action, then it’s gotta be REAL nice n’ fancy.

But, in my mind, the was an asterisk next to point #2, and for some reason thought it absolutely necessary that the gang understood that there was a confounding factor in my observations.

Namely, Aquaman. Yes, I was smart enough to take her to a movie that I knew would, er, “prime her pump”. I probably could have taken her to the shabbiest theater within 200 miles and still have achieved the same result.

So I suppose I felt innately compelled to share this key detail for the sake of full disclosure. That led to this whole tangent about our insidish joke about how the Boss Lady is attracted to Jason Mamoa because they look so ----- alike.

I mean, when you get down to it, we tend to love no one more than we love ourselves, right? It’s okay though; there’s at least a little Narcisse in all of us.

And objectively speaking, both the Boss Lady and Jason Mamoa are ----- beautiful people. ----- gorgeous, the lot of them. I mean, I think both have the potential to tempt many a person to try to play in both the baseball and softball leagues, if you get my drift. Or maybe I’m just projecting?

Fortunately, that whole last bit was not part of my campfire monologue. Instead, at the behest of an active listener amongst us, I rambled on about how for the longest time we had joked about how we were the karmic universe’s bizarro answer to the Khal /Khalisi power couple (from HBO’s Game of Thrones)…a dream which we finally realized the Halloween just the year before, as seen below.

In the midst of all this, I realized this crowd probably wouldn’t appreciate what essentially amounted to me bragging about how I coat-tailed off of Aquaman’s hotness to get laid. So, hoping that my tales of GoT cross dressing would be interesting enough to satiate the masses, I never circled back around to the original point of the story.

But! I didn’t anticipate these ----- being such attentive and sincere listeners. As I let my secondary story trail off into my signature ellipsis, one of them, perhaps the most positive of the bunch,  piped up.

“Oh, I’m sorry man, I didn’t mean to interrupt you talking about your wife and CineBistro with my questions. Please, continue.”

Shit. These elephants weren’t forgetting the story I had promised them. So I decided this would be the perfect opportunity to workshop my punchline for when I tell a tale that apparently is only interesting as long as it stays in my head.

You know, play it off as a boring pointless story rather than an inappropriate recounting of my intimate relationship with my wife (as if talking about it here is any better).

“Hah! You thought story was going to be much more interesting. Joke’s on you!”

That got a modest response from the fellas, but it didn’t take much recollection and introspection to realize that I hadn’t exactly nailed it, either.

This guy was showing sincere interest in me. His baseline was to assume that if I valued the thought enough to share it out loud with strangers, then it must be valuable and worthy of hearing. You got to be one well-adjusted human being to be just flinging around respect for others all willy-nilly like that.

In stark contrast, ol’ Captain Dickheart over here was essentially mocking and shaming him for being an example of an upstanding citizen of society.

Shortly after that incident, I bid the male cheerleading squad adieu and headed home, having had my hopes of finding “my people” crushed under the weight of all the positivity.

I’ve heard that some people often act out in less-than-desirable ways because they’re refusing to acknowledge a particular aspect of their identity or desires.

The whole way back I quietly rode in the passenger seat, with the inescapable curse of unpleasant self-knowledge behind the wheel, a smug grin plastered across his face.

I had uncovered a solemn truth about myself that evening.

No, it wasn’t that I was a closeted comic.

It was realizing I was cynically repressed.7Cynically Repressed was the original title of this post, changed only to avoid the humiliating experience of premature punchline.

Content created on: 23 October 2019 (Wednesday)

Footnotes & References:[+]

Bum Sandwich

5 Min Read

I definitely have lots of regrets–don’t you? If you’re somehow living out the motto “No Regrets”, I somehow suspect that you ain’t lifing right. Or you’re a psychopath. But who am I to judge?

One’s relationship with regrets can be a tricky thing. You have to hold them loosely and tightly at the same time. On one hand, you really need to take Elsa’s advice1https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aeHJHjkwDuM and let. That. Shit . Go. It may be cliche, but don’t get hung up on things that you can’t change. You done ----- up son. Give it up already.

On the other hand, I think it’s worth reflecting on your regrets,2Misappropriation of #NeverForget if for nothing else to avoid repeating unnecessary mistakes. If you want to take it to the next level, you can even examine what it reveals about yourself, at which point you can ask whether or not you want to be that person that made such a regrettable life choice. Then use that knowledge to move towards being that [presumably] better person.

On occasion, I suspect you will find me waxing short about various regrets I’ve had thus far in my life. If it isn’t clear by now, I am pretty capable of being quite a poopy person acting in a rather poopy-head fashion.3www.thepointofthestory.com/the-olde-timey-wheelchair,4www.thepointofthestory.com/shower-tips-part-1,5www.thepointofthestory.com/a-pound-casual-asshat I like to cling to the self-protecting hope that that is not who I am to the core. A key part of that hope is the notion that “what is important” is the willingness to own thy shit–and use it as all-natural organic fertilizer and in turn grow as a person/citizen of society. Also, in cases where I regret how I made other people feel, I think a part of me verbalizing my regret is trying to apologize in the sincerest way I know how.

Now, all that being said, I have to confirm your worst fears: no, I’m not really going to talk much about the specific nuances of the concept of regret, as I may have led some to believe by the last few paragraphs. I will at some point share more relevant stories, but for now I thought I would lightly ramble since I was on the topic, and eventually those other stories are going to need some broader context anyway. And also, I’m attempting to write past my bedtime, which is when I run the risk of becoming so incoherent that I actually become more coherent than my natural state.

Honestly, my motivation for today’s story was to set the Dear Reader’s expectations that I will on occasion serve up shorter, less interesting stories, in hopes of tempering the inevitable disappointment. Even more honestly, I’m really trying to lower the bar for what I can pass off as a blog post and save myself from the temptation to nervously talk on end just to fill the air. Clearly, I’m not doing the best job of exhibiting the virtues of brevity. I really just wanted to type a few quick paragraphs and get to bed at a decent time, but nooooooo.

But, I digress. In spite of my best efforts (really, though?!?).

After all that meandering prefacing, I actually do have a regret that I wanted to share with you. One evening when I was a single young buck in grad school, I was waiting to go home at the bus stop in downtown Chapel Hill. Nearby sat a modestly attractive young lady, probably about my age, eating a sandwich. And directly in between us sat a down-on-his-luck middle-aged man of lower socio-economic status.

By and large, I was minding my own ----- business, paying no real mind to my two companions, when I noticed the guy had started talking to the girl. Or at least talking at the girl. Either that, or he was talking to her sandwich. Honestly, it wasn’t really clear. He was asking her how her sandwich was, but it was almost…sexual. I could sense the smarm coming off of him, but I wasn’t sure if the object of his lust was the girl or the food.

She could definitely sense the smarm, too, because she was clearly very uncomfortable with the situation. So here’s what I regret: I regret I sat there and watched, and continued to mind my own ----- business. Maybe I was entranced by the situation, as my mind was stuck trying to figure out what was really going on. Or maybe a part of me was relieved that he was bothering someone else rather than me about whatever it was that he wanted.

Fortunately, she just ignored him and he hopped on the next bus. After the immediate tension broke, the realization of my missed opportunity smacked me upside the head. As soon as I sensed her unease, I totally could have and should have jumped on that grenade for her sake, so to speak. In action that would have been as simple as striking up a conversation with him and diverting his leering stare away from her. Had I really been on my game I would have offered to buy him a sandwich.

But alas, I didn’t, and I have to live with the consequences of my inaction. Which are surprisingly pretty much non-existent, save for my self-assigned sense of cowardice.

There is a real underlying moral to be mulled over here, though: at what point does one decide to go from being a simple by-stander to a reluctant, yet responsible, hero? Recently, on two separate occasions, I had to decide whether to call 911 on behalf of neighbors I barely knew, and get myself thrown into the middle of their situations. Ultimately, I did step in on their behalf both times, but not without what seemed like an eternity of uncertainty as to what my role and responsibility really was.

I don’t know if I can speak for anyone else, but for me these experiences were…surreal. At least surreal in the sense that the back of my mind kept trying to figure out “Is this really happening?” It took a surprisingly long time before I snapped out of it and was even aware of the question of what I could do to help. The real takeaway for me from all of this is that it really is worth running such thought experiments in my head, and essentially train myself to respond with the assumption that I’m being called into action. One day that assumption just might save someone’s life. Or at least the enjoyment of their sandwich…

Now, the story doesn’t quite end there, though that last line would have made for a pretty decent zinger to end on.

For whatever reason, I was recently recounting this story to my wife, when something occurred to me, all these years later. Although I had zero romantic motivations for intervening with the young lady and her sandwich, such champion-like action could have possibly had resulted in eternal, er, “gratefulness” on her part. Following my thoughts wherever they wandered, I continued to muse aloud.

“Who knows? Maybe I would have inadvertently found myself with a lifetime supply of on-demand booty calls…”

At that point I noticed my wife was giving me one of those looks.

[Ruefully under my breath:] “I regret sharing that last detail…”


Content created on: 19/20 August 2019 (Monday/Tuesday)

----- Bob Ross

4 Min Read

Fuck Bob Ross.

Don’t get me wrong, he was a great guy–may he rest in peace.

But seriously, ----- him and his happy little trees, too.

You may be wondering what the hell is wrong with me, as it is a widely accepted fact that everyone loves The Ross-ster. Don’t worry, I’ll address that in a moment.

Let me first state that I would be slightly disturbed if everyone felt this way about Bob. So, to be clear, this is not a universal ” ----- you” to him–that’s not the case I’m trying to make here. It’s a rather locally-sourced ” ----- you” instead. This is just, like, my opinion, man.1https://youtu.be/Z-xI1384Ry4?t=72

Like many things in my life, I’ve had hints of raw talent here and there from my early days–namely artistic talent, in the case of today’s tale. But also like many things in my life, my attempts at artistry somehow always resulted in half-assery. As Daddy Pig might say, “I’m a bit of an expert at half-assing things.”2https://teeshirt21.com/product/peppa-pig-daddy-pig-im-a-bit-of-an-expert-fathers-day-daddy-pig-guys-tee-b9akW

Anyways, I clearly remember working on my masterpieces when I was young. Usually it was faces that I would draw, and I would always get out to a nice, solid start. Fairly realistic eyes, complete with a little gleam…nice strong bridge of the nose…not-too-caterpillary eyebrows conveying a friendly contenance…decent enough nose and nostrils…and lips that were still fairly human…

But there was always a voice in the back of my head telling me I should stop after the lips. Needless to say, I never listened to that voice. “Just the lips”3That’s what she said. were never enough for me.

Each time, I would witness my Goya turn into a Dali right before my eyes. It’s as if my subjects were the Nazis in Raiders of the Lost Ark, beholding the Ark of the Covenant for the first–and obviously, last–time. It wasn’t pretty. To be fair, I should clarify that 3/4 of the face would be at least serviceable. It would be the chin, the hairline, the ears, the misshapen and disproportionate body, and whatever the hell I attempted to put in the background that would look like it was melting.

(As an inappropriate use of parenthetical statements, I’m just now realizing that there was one exception to this madness: pirates. I guess that’s probably because the whole pirate experience–you know, scars, missing eyes and limbs, parrots, tattered sails and the like–was so ----- up that it was a nice match for my ----- up art skills. But I digress. Enough with the piracy already.)

So, pirates and their peg legs notwithstanding,4Its a pun. Pun intended. I could never produce a complete piece of art. Hell, I would have been happy to nail 50% of the drawing without dropping the ball.

I think I might have actually made it to 50% on several occassions, but instead of leaving the rest of the page blank and walking away [mostly] a winner, I never knew when to quit. It’s like a part of me–let’s call him The Back Seventy–would be like “Hey, there Front Thirty, that’s a nice picture you got going there. But we wouldn’t want to be too successful, would we? We can’t have that. Let me fix it for you…”

The point of the story is that pretty much my whole life I’ve had this deeply ingrained sense of inevitable doom, in which all previous hard work/good luck will eventually be trodden over by hubris, incompetence, and/or misguided ambition, if only given enough time.

Come to think of it, this actually is a pretty accurate template for most of my romantic endeavors, but that’s a story or two for another time…

I would like to believe that I’m starting to paint a clearer picture of why Bob Ross can go stuff all those paint brushes up his ass for all I care…but I’m afraid just the mere analogy of painting will trigger The Back Seventy in me to take over and drive this whole beautiful train of thought off the rails and over a cliff.

But ever the optimist, I shall attempt to at least connect the dots. Anyone reading this far deserves at least that much.

Most people I know coo over Bob Ross and how soothing it is to watch him paint, allowing his Zen voice to wash over their semi-clothed beings as they are lulled into blissful sleep. That’s nifty and all, and I suppose I’m happy for all y’all for whom that is the Bob Ross Experience. Congratulations.

Meanwhile, I’m over here projecting all my insecurities onto him, resulting in me being awash in nothing but anxiety.

You know how some people yell at the screen during horror movies, imploring them bitches not to go in that door and instead vacate the premises in a timely manner? Yeah, that’s me, imploring Bob “YOU DON’T NEED PEACEFUL MOUNTAINS IN THE BACKGROUND OR A GROVE OF YOUR HAPPY-ASS TREES! BE CONTENT WITH THE LAKE, MAN. WALK AWAY, BOB, JUST WALK AWAY BEFORE YOU LOSE IT ALL!”

But that asshole never listens. Instead, he just calmly sticks the landing, taunting me with what I can never have…

The point of the story is, embrace the things that bring you joy, but be hesitant to assume that this joy is universal.

You never know, one man’s angel might be another man’s be-fro’d demon.


Content created on: 17 July 2019 (Wed), Revised 24 July 2019 (Wed)

Footnotes & References:[+]

A Most Excellent Life Lesson

4 Min Read

“About time…about —damn time.”

That was my reaction when I read the clickbait article today confirming that Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure 3 was REALLY, TRULY HAPPENING. Sure, we have to wait over a year before it actually comes out, but we’ve waited 28 years thus far, so who can complain?

I was 8 or 9 when I first experienced Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, and I was in love–hello, Joan of Arc! Hello, Bill’s stepmom! Seriously, though, how can one not be ape-shit over a cinematic masterpiece that features none other than George Carlin as Rufus? I wanted to name my hypothetical son “Rufus” because of him, for god’s sake!1I just realized…this whole time I had thought Rufus Wainwright was the inspiration for my Rufus predilection. This makes way more sense now. I don’t think I’ve experienced any of Mr. Wainwright’s catalog… Both Keanu’s and Alex’s acting careers where ripe and in season, good to the last juicy surfer/dumbass drop. Truly, it was a bygone golden age to which Keanu has yet to return. *Sigh* But! There is hope at last…I mean, Alex (aka Bill S. Preston, Esquire) came out of 25 years of acting retirement for this. This calls for a celebration…with a tangentially relevant tale, perhaps?

I wish I could lie and say that I was a true fanboy who has watched it over a 100 times, but hey, let’s be real. This was back when my family had to rent the VCR before we could argue about which movie to rent. So I saw it twice, maybe thrice, tops. Nonetheless, I still think it would be most righteous to count me as a fan. However…

However, I have to confess that I never saw the sequel. Some fan I am, right? Well, that just didn’t happen in a vacuum. You see, Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey came out late in the summer before I started fifth grade at Christian Schools of Springfield in Springfield (duh), Missouri. Now during the summers, my brother One Skinny J (aka 1SJ) and I would live with my “easy-going” dad on his farm in Kansas…pretty much the exact opposite of “Christian”, “Schools”, and “Springfield”.

The inferred point being, if we were going to see it, it would be with him. By my estimate, we would have had a 2-3 week window to make it happen. It’s no surprise that we never made it to the theater, with the farm and all…and also because I’m pretty sure that’s about the time we got grounded for stealing $20 out of our step-brother’s wallet. Which, by the way, was complete bullshit, because I was an unwitting accomplice, having been told that it had been miraculously “found under the couch” before I had agreed to help spend it at our local Corner Stop. Injustice, I say! But I digress…

Though I didn’t see the movie then, I, as a fan of modest proportions and an avid reader of the regional newspaper, had at some point picked up this little nugget of trivia: the original title was “Bill & Ted Go to Hell” (a fact true to this day–see Figure 1).

Figure 1. Proof that my memory is at least somewhat reliable.

Fast-forward slightly to Mrs. Greene’s 5th grade class a few months later. We had a fun class project where we split up into pairs and each group would write a chapter of a book, and then we would come back together to combine them into a single class story. My guess is that it was a joint English/history project, because the theme was time travel to the past. I was paired up with my best friend-girl, Katie, and we tore that shit up, traipsing all over the old west in our made-up adventure. It was good times.

Then it came time to name our book. Since it was time-travel themed, it reminded me of Bill & Ted, and I casually mentioned Bogus Journey’s original title. The Student Teacher, who was in charge of the project, gave me a slightly stern look, but my comments otherwise went ignored. Name after name after yet another contrived and uncreative name, I grew restless with the democratic process. I decided to finally connect the dots for them. Thinking myself rather clever, I raised my hand and proudly proffered “How about: ‘Mrs. Greene’s Fifth Grade Class…Goes to Hell’? Yeah, pretty good, huh?”

No. It was the opposite of good times.

Now forgive me for thinking that Ms. Student Teacher had plenty of context to understand what I meant: basically, our class <==> time-travel <==> Bill & Ted <==> “go to hell” (used in a semi-literal sense), therefore: our class <==> “goes to hell”. All the pieces were right there. Despite a logical and well-rounded defense on my part, I got my ass sent to the principal’s office and was lucky I didn’t get suspended. Once again, though, I gotta say it was complete and utter bullshit. Injustice, I say.

Anyways, the point of the story is: that’s when I realized that I could never be with someone who has no sense of humor. Cuz I sure the ----- didn’t have a crush on the Student Teacher after that.


On a side note, often I kill two birds with one stone and use my 6 y.o. daughter’s request for a bedtime story as an opportunity to workshop some of my narratives. For example, I was feeling pretty good when Lawnmower Man totally killed it with her a few nights ago.

Well, earlier this evening I decided to run this one by her. When I got to the part where I first mentioned “go to hell”, she asked what hell was. I was actually a bit surprised she hadn’t already been scared shitless by the idea of it a la one of her grandmothers. So I told her it was the “opposite of heaven”–nothing about eternal suffering, gnashing of teeth, lakes of fire, Satanic pitchfork sodomy, etc.–just the “opposite of heaven”. That was it.

It didn’t go over well. She kept plugging her ears, making it difficult for her to hear me trying to share yet another layer of context on top of what you’ve already read here. Needless to say, I bombed.

On top of that, she apparently ratted me out. Later in the evening the Boss Lady2aka my wife chided me, noting that she heard from a little birdie that “Daddy told me a very scary word tonight”.

Oh, for fuck’s sake people…CONTEXT!

Nonetheless, I would say that overall it was a pretty good day. After all this time, the Wyld Stallyns shall finally ride again.

I do declare, I must be in the opposite of Hell…


Content created on: 3 July 2019 (Wednesday)

Footnotes & References:[+]

Lawnmower Man

2 Min Read

One fine Saturday morning many moons ago, I found myself taking a shower with the bathroom door open. Now, the door opens in towards the shower, so even with it open, it would be difficult for anybody in the hallway to actually see you showering.

Anyways, afterwards, as I turned off the water and began to dry myself off, a distant sound caught my attention. Off yonder I could a hear a medium-level buzz as a neighbor mowed their lawn.

Feeling footloose and fancy free (after all, ’twas a fine Saturday morning), I decided to seize the opportunity to test out my pitch-matching skills. Without much thought, I lowered my jaw and let out an impressive “Ehhhhhhnnnnnnn!” Basically what any normal human being would have done in that situation.

I had resumed drying myself off, when I heard vigorous, yet stifled, guffawing coming from behind the crack in the door. I look up to see an eyeball in the crack, undulating in time with the suppressed laughter.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Natosha busts into the bathroom, barely able to spit out “What THE HELL was that?!?” in between irrepressible snorts.

“What? I heard a lawn mower so I was just mimicking it. Duh.” I stated matter-of-factly.

After she finally got done howling in mockery, she was eventually able to calm down enough to tell her side of the story. Which was basically as follows.

“I was lovingly watching you through the crack in the door, when all of a sudden you stopped what you were doing, got a really glazed look in your eyes, and then out of nowhere: ‘Ehhhhhhhhhhnnnnnn!’ You looked either possessed or…special. And we all know you’re a little bit of the latter…”

Believe it or not, we’re still married to this day.

The point of the story is, CONTEXT MATTERS. If you don’t know the full story, maybe don’t be so quick to be a judgy asshole, yeah?

More recently, I was doing fall yard work and needed to blow some leaves out of our driveway. We have an electric leaf blower, so it is a huge pain in the ass to get it out, unravel the cord, get everything plugged in, blow leaves for 90 seconds, then proceed to undo all of the hard work I put into setting it up. Instead, its much more efficient to use the lawnmower to blow stuff around, since I had it out to mow the yard anyways.

Of course, a neighbor drove by and saw me mowing our driveway.

Again, the moral of the story is: sometimes genius looks like a ----- idiot. Don’t judge.


Content created on: 1 July 2019 (Monday)

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