Saturday, November 17, 2007

I Hate A Liar

The picture above is a representation of the Roman god, Janus, who presided over doors, doorways, gates, beginnings, and endings, who was usually shown holding a key. From Janus, we get the name for the first month of the year, January, a time to look back over the past year as well as forward to the new year. It is also where we get the name of one of the most under-valued and overlooked professions: Janitor, caretaker of doors and halls.

Now I told you all that to tell you this: Janus is two-faced, a term we often reserve for liars, and if there is one thing I hate more than anything else, it is a liar. (And Nazis) I am not a hateful person. Anyone who knows me knows I'm pretty easy-going and am a tolerant, open minded person. Like my Grandmother used to say, even the most wretched and nasty person you could name has one good quality: they can be used as a good example of how not to be. But Damn! I hate a liar!
Now having said that, I have made myself a hypocrite, as I am a liar as well. According to Flannery, I am a very good liar. I have an honest and innocent face, and I use that to my advantage. I will spin a yarn woven of bullshit and bologna, and pass it off as coin of the realm. I am good at it. It is not a skill I'm proud of, nor do I do it often, but when pressed, I can make a whopper sound like something Abraham Lincoln might have said. I am no George Washington. I can lie like the proverbial rug. But there are only a few occasions I allow myself this liberty with the truth.
  • When I am under the scrutiny of Law Enforcement Officers. Let's face it, these folks hear more lies than any other profession, and me getting one past them is slim, but I can justify it with the reasoning that I am protecting Flannery and the kids from public shame.

  • When Flannery wants to know where I've been, why I'm home later than I said I was going to be, and what was X amount of dollars spent on. I would have a better chance at parallel parking a sperm whale than getting one past her, but it is usually worth a shot.

  • When I am setting you up for a joke.

Since I've been married, I have not had the need to exercise the first one. My run ins with the boys in blue are long behind me and the wild life that I once lived is a fond, but distant memory, a bit hazy in a few places, but still very fond.

I almost never engage the right of the second liberty. Much like a trolley car, I have a few places I am likely to be and I never stray from them. Home, work, gas station, burger joint, the in laws, the Moose Lodge, or the Tiki Bar. That's it. I don't go anywhere else, and all of these places are less than ten minutes from the house.

The third one I do all the time, but in the end, I will ALWAYS tell you that I have been "pulling your leg" or "putting you on". I do not leave half-truths, fibs, or complete and utter bullshit unexposed. Who knows? I might want to run for office someday and I don't need this kind of malarkey screwing up my expensive campaign. I will try my level best to make you laugh, and if I need to construct some hokey story to do it, I will. I will do my damnedest to convince you that what I am saying is the truth, but only for the guilty pleasure of seeing you break into a grin and chortle like a hyena when you discover that you have been had. Everyone has their faults, and this is mine.

It wasn't until I got to college that I realized I had a deep and abiding hatred of liars. I met a girl in speech class, (where else?) and we dated for a while. She was smart, well-spoken, built, wealthy, a mortician, and she could do things that would make your eyes roll back in your head and scream your own name. She was the full package. She was eager to get married and she was convinced that I was IT, and for a short time, I even considered it myself. But she had one drawback. She was a chronic and unreformable liar. I couldn't believe anything she said. She lied just to have something to talk about. She lied about anything. She wasn't lying to keep herself out of jail, or to preserve a relationship, or even to tell a joke. She would lie about what she had for breakfast. It didn't take me very long to decide that this wasn't the wagon I wanted to be hitched to forevermore, regardless of what she could make me scream. I called her a liar, wished her luck, and turned her loose.

I have never regretted this decision, and I have often thanked God that I had the presence of mind to do so. What a nightmare that could have been. I don't know where she is now, or what has become of her, but I hope she found a Bullshit Artist on the same grand scale as she was.

I thought of her the other day after seeing a picture of our President on the cover of the newspaper.


P.S.- Don't miss out on the caption contest below.


  1. OLD LADY: "Captain, I hear you talking to yourself. Are you lonely?"

    CAPTAIN: "madame, I enjoy a good conversation with an intelligent man, and I like to hear a smart man speak."

    OLD LADY: "captain, I've been told that you are a terrible liar."

    CAPTAIN: "madame, I do believe I have been called that in my time, and may I say that you are THE most beautiful woman I've ever seen?"

  2. When dealing with police, I have found that most of them seem to want to be showered with respect for their choice in profession. Therefore, I fall back to the old military habit of throwing out more yes sir, no sir, no excuse sir statements than you have ever heard!

  3. If only my brother was American, he'd be president right now!

  4. yeah, I hate liars too. i MUCH prefer the lute or the guitar.

  5. tried it once, didn't work out too well. Couldn't remember who I'd told the truth to and who I hadn't.

    So I say more power to the ones who can actually pull it off.

  6. A mortician? Really?! Now, you sure you're not lying again?


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