Friday, October 26, 2007

Seven Things You don't Know About Me

On October 16th, Chris over at Some Guy's Blog tagged me with this question. In my usual lightening-reflex manner, I'm getting around to it on the 28th. Dear and Gentle Reader, if you are regular patron of SZ, tcob you know I am a slow thinker. Most every post that appears here, other than the short Youtube posts, has been mulled over in my head for three or four days. I need time to let an idea percolate, or sometimes, even to show up at all. Some were born swift of feet, some swift of tongue, some swift of thought, and I'm not any of these, "...but I'm quick with a joke, or to light up your smoke, and there is no place I'd rather be."

So the question stands, what are the seven things you don't know about me? (At least the things that Flannery lets me mention in public anyway.) Here we go:

One.
I have a great love of hats, as well as an extensive collection. The more unusual the better. Flannery once remarked that I have a hat for most every occasion. Not true. I don't have a top hat, so a night at the opera is something I am totally unprepared for, but I have a pith helmet should I need to plunge into the jungle at a moments notice. I have a black Bowler hat, should a poker game break out. I have umpteen ball caps, but all of them are carefully chosen for their fit, style, and logo. Most of them are khaki.
Two.
I like khaki alot.
Three.
I wear a vest alot. There are so few ways to accessorize a man, so one may as well have lots of pockets. Gentlemen, correct me if I'm wrong, but we have to tote around a lot of stuff that most women just shove into their purse. Think about it. Money, keys, comb, wallet, lighter, hanky, pen, loose change, pocketknife, checkbook, spare ammo, smokes, bottle opener, whips, chains, dildos, and a book. It dresses up a common T-shirt, even if that look died in the Eighties. Wear it with a shirt with a collar, and you look nice, but casual without appearing over-dressed. During the cold months it adds lots of warmth without being bulky. It is the ultimate in utility and you don't have to wear a fanny pack.
Four.
I had Wolf, Parkinson, White Syndrome, or however you spell it. As horrific as it sounds, it wasn't that bad. I had fainting spells for a short time, and in the throes of one managed to pull a pan of boiling beets on top of myself. I was unharmed, but more than a little shaken when I awoke to find myself on the floor covered in red liquid and having my mother screaming at me. WPW, as it is known, is fairly common. It means you have an extra piece of flesh on your heart that sometimes short-circuits the natural pacemaker at the base of your heart, and the pacemaker shocks itself. It makes your heart beat so fast that it isn't moving any blood. I had them burn off my extra piece of flesh with sound waves. It was cool in two ways. I was cured, but I genuinely believed that I had been healed by Rock-n-Roll, or at least sound waves, but I would like to think that AC/DC, Jimi Hendrix, and Ronnie James Dio played a part. Nothing screams good health like "All Along The Watchtower" or "Give Me A Bullet To Bite On".
Five.
I once ate a marble, a nickle, and a redhead, but not in the same evening.
Six.
My middle name is Homer. Some people hear that and think of the blind Greek poet, and the rest think of the Simpsons.
Seven.
I take my hat off at the table. I write and draw with my left hand, but do most everything with my right hand. I don't eat seafood. I wear long underwear half the year. I hate Nazis or bigots. I enjoy sleeping late. I have an odd sense of humor. I once played the phantom in my high school production of "The Phantom Of The Opera". A good buddy of mine is a nationally recognised poet. I've met David Sederis and he gave me a picture of tongue diseases. I traveled on a train to my honeymoon in Philly. I once had a dog named "Dickhead", as well as several pet goats, one of which I named Alexander. I have slept in a truck, a van, in a tent, on a kayak, and several couches in my time, but I cannot sleep or eat on a plane. I have been to two Grateful Dead shows and bought beer from under-age girls both times, as well as picking up religious pamphlets. I have never been "out west", or even east for that matter. I hate mating socks. (They should be able to find their own way without my help.) I love the sound of crickets and a clear sky that has stars. I like bacon. I once tried to join the military and they asked me to find a Quack Doctor that would write me a note, and if I liked beer and cartoons. I hate needles and flying. I get lost easily. I don't dance, or follow sports, t.v., fashion trends, stars, stocks, tea sales in China, crime rates, unemployment stats, what QVC has to peddle this hour, what day of the week it is, unnatural compunctions, warning labels, good advice, legal precedent, advertising, "Good Parenting", or soap operas.
There you have it. Any Questions?
Doc



12 comments:

  1. Wow.

    I'm sorry you couldn't make it to Chicago. I need to buy you a drink and smoke a cigar with you.

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  2. Nicely done Doc. I have several questions, mostly about the redhead. But now is not the time or place, we need to have a beer.

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  3. Any trouble passing the redhead? I find they can sometimes bind you up a bit.

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  4. And nice job of confining the list to seven things, by the way. If you do ever travel west, bring your own hat but the beer's on me.

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  5. Of course, heart surgery is never much fun, but if I ever had to have it, I'd surely appreciate the involvement of some serious AC/DC. I don't think I could face the prospect of possibly leaving this world while listening to Dio, though.

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  6. I wanna hear about the stuff Flann will NOT let you pubish. go ahead, whisper it... She'll never have to know...

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  7. Hmm, trying to hand in your homework late, young man?

    I'll let it slide this time...

    Nice job!

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  8. Hey, I knew you liked beer. The rest I didn't know.

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  9. Oh, man. You can claim you have a burned heart! Do you realize how many women would love to be able to use that excuse?

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  10. WAAAH-WAAH, MOTHER-FUCKIN'-WAAAH, I WANNA CONTRIBUTE TO THIS BLOG!! INVITE MEEEEE, OR I'LL WHINE ON YER ASS SOME MO'!!!

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  11. HA! I knew all of this. I'm special! By the way folks, if Doc kicks the bucket before I do, I get his bowler. He told me so.

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