Little Bang Theory

The Six Remaining Things November 23, 2007

An embarrassingly long while back, Sparticus tagged me with the task of revealing ten things about myself which you “regulars” don’t know.

Well, given my penchant for pitiful, self-deprecating exposés and shameless psychic self-portraits, I came up a good bit short (now, don’t you start!) on new material, and humbly “passed” on the task.

But Sparticus, being the good-hearted team player that he is, wouldn’t let it rest. He kindly supplied the First Four of the Intended Ten, and urged me to round out the roster.

And you know, I’m not the kind of guy who lays in the shade while a Good Samaritan tills my fields, so here goes:

Sparticus’ First Four –

1.) I’m an awesome cook. Thank you. I enjoy eating, and it behooves me to cook food which I’ll enjoy. I’ll gladly whip up something humble for any blogger who makes it this far off the beaten path.

2.) I write awesome poetry. There’s that word again… I’m a bit taken aback when I hear this – up until this summer, every poem I ever wrote started with either “There once was a man from Nantucket” or “Here I sit, broken hearted…” But Thanks, Spart, I’m workin’ on it.

3.) I’m a Good Man. Holy Cow, is THAT subjective! But Momma raised me right, so I’ll just say “Thank-you” and blush.

4.) I have a cute ass. Tactfully attributed to “some of the gals in the blogsphere.” Thanks, gals. I’d like to point out that at the moment, it’s up for grabs. And I’m dying from the back-pressure, so either get your sweet selves over here or send your sister. ‘Nuff said.

Sparticus, you get a gold star for being a Team Player. Thanks for the virtual kick in the ass.

Well now, that leaves me with six to go.

5.) I’m a Clutter-Monkey. A pack-rat, a hoarder, a slob. Not dirty, mind you, just a collector of stuff, unwilling to throw away things which aren’t, strictly speaking, junk. Here’s the entry room into my apartment:

Nice, huh? Great first impression when I finally bring That Special Someone home for the first time. I know, I’m working on it. But a lifetime dysfunction is hard to kick.

6.) I used to be SERIOUSLY into music. Played keyboards for most of my younger days, not very well, but enough to have a deep understanding of music. I’ve written nearly a hundred songs, some of them quite good (IMHO) and still write today. One of these days I’m gonna start playing again, and then you’ll be sorry!*

*My brother has gotten back into playing the guitar and has been encouraging me. I’m rooting for him.

7.) Some people equate “big” with “hard.” I’m living proof that It Ain’t Necessarily So.

The biggest thing I ever climbed was a 2,200′ cliff in California, atop 3,000′ of steep granite slabs. The resultant mile of vertical exposure was trouser-filling, to say the least:

That’s my buddy Mark The Canadian yelling, “Get this! ” We got it, Mark. You rock!

The hardest thing I ever climbed was an eight-foot tall boulder near my home. Took me six months of trying, several evenings a week, to get up it. Ridiculous, I know, but when you’re a climber, you can’t walk away from that kind of an opportunity.

8.) I turned down a MENSA membership when I graduated from high school. Back then I was a brilliant little hippy who thought that kind of thing was way too “establishment.” Fuck. Now that I’m a feeble old half-wit, I wish I had taken them up on it. A MENSA card would be a funny thing to drool on when they put me in The Home, and a great retort in the present for all those Reicht-Wingers who assail me with “So you think you’re so fuckin’ smart, do ya??”

9.) Closin’ in on it here, folks.

OK, here’s something from my present which you may or may not have picked up on: I’m horribly insecure.

This shortcoming was recently exacerbated by taking the on-line test (GAWD I hate those things!) proffered by DCup by way of Phydeaux and Phriends. The “test” gaged the readability of one’s blog and rated it at an appropriate level of schooling, from “elementary school” to “genius” (is that a level of schooling?)

Now remember, I’m insecure. But I had recently been complemented on a poem** I wrote, and was feeling a bit more confident…

..OK, I won’t make you wait. **Say this in your gayest voice. “Pewemm,” or something. It’s a H/T to a guy I used to work with who just about died every time he heard Garrison Keillor read a “pewemm” on The Writers’ Almanac on NPR.

…so where were we, oh yeah – so I submitted my proudest pewemm to the Blog Rater and got rated as “Junior High School.”

Ow!

Sorry, that hit me right in the tenders. I mean, WTF?? I don’t define myself as this blog, but I had hoped to present myself in a somewhat more flattering light than Junior High School!

Now please understand that there’s a difference between being insecure and being a pansy. So rather than take this lying down (or doubled over, as the case might be,) I did some investigating. I pasted url’s from various blogs I visit into Dunderback’s Machine, and was mystified by the results – unadorned youtube videos of Jerkwad’s Cat got rated “Genius,” while some of my favorite Blogwriters got “High School.” I smelled a rat here.

So I sucked it in and threw my best shot. My recent post on God v. Religion seemed to be well received, so, taking a deep breath, I sent it off to be vetted…

“Elementary School!”

Well Fuck Me Runnin’! (H/T to konagod, my current favorite Texan) I’m done, I’m through, I’m outa here!

But while I was braiding my bed sheet and tying it around the steam-pipe, I did one last Earthly deed. I pasted the url from a recent stellar post from BlueGal, Goddess of the Left-O-Sphere, my Muse, Saint Blue, Sistah Truth, into the Rater. The result:

“Elementary School!!!”
…

…

OMFG! I’m saved, saved! Except that now I’m sleeping on a nest of shredded bedsheets. Damn!

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

And finally, last but not least:

10.) It’s Ralph, if you haven’t already noticed. Not an easy ride in the middle grades, but it is what it is.

So Sparticus, perhaps you see why I balked at doing this. I don’t take it lightly (ok, I lied, I do take it lightly) and it takes me some time and considerable effort. But all in all, it wasn’t that painful, and I owed it to you for your vote of confidence (which is what a “tag” is, really.) So thanks to those of you who suffered through this, and I’ll let any who wish take up this torch. I’m not a proper arbiter of who has the time or inclination to spill The Goods. Just serve it up if it’s hot!