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Man Tag: 6 Quirks

Joe McGregor has, in blogger parlance, “tagged” me. In accordance with long-standing forms of internet etiquette, I am obligated to reveal to you 6 quirks about myself. It will be hard to narrow it down to so few, but I’ll give it a shot.

1. I am gassy. You might think that this is less of a quirk and more of a common trait shared by males the world over. You’d be right, if that was the extent of it. My quirkiness lies not in the gaseousness per se, but rather in the various ways and means that I have devised to expel this gas in public situations without drawing undue attention to myself or assaulting the noses of those nearby. For example, did you ever consider, ladies, that when your date opened the car door for you he was actually granting himself a moment of gastric-pressure-relief as he ambled around to the driver’s side? Or have any of you wondered about a co-worker’s purpose when he got up from his desk, only to return a short time later having done nothing more than complete a circuit around the office? Perhaps he was looking for someone who was not at their desk. Perhaps not.

2. I make sound effects. Like in cartoons. For myself. (i.e. Taking a big bite out of a doughnut = Aaaammmp).

3. I sing songs. Again, you’re thinking, “Uh huh, we all do that,” or something along those lines. While I do, from time to time, sing the sorts of songs that normal people might sing (like California Dreamin‘ or Jingle Bells), I also sing my own brand of song. These songs emanate directly from my deranged subconscious mind. They pull lyrics from current situations, random household objects, strange animals such as wombats, road signs or other passing sights, and, if all else fails, they inevitably resort to poop references. I sing these songs at home, in the car, and, to my wife’s horror, in the office and other public places. Note: Due to the spontaneous nature of these songs, they cannot be requested. If you want to hear one, you’ll just have to start hanging out with the Carrs more often.

4. I love breakfast. A lot. If it comes down to being late, or eating breakfast, breakfast always wins. My preferred breakfast is cold cereal (generally a sugary one) with milk, orange juice (not from concentrate), and the newspaper on the side. I could go into milk amounts and the proper way to introduce still dry portions of the cereal into the milk, but I don’t think you want to know.

5. I hate seeing people in embarrassing/awkward social situations. This is why I hated the show Family Matters growing up, as well as most other sitcoms. I would rather watch someone get shot than see them show up at a high school dance with no pants.

6. I don’t care about sports. When I say ’sports’ I think you know that I’m talking about the kind of sports that most guys do care about. Pro sports. College sports. I like to play sports, but I don’t really care who won the game last night. I generally don’t even know who played. If you come up and ask me about the game I will smile and say something like, “Yeah. Man. That sure was a game, wasn’t it!?” Then you will say, “That call on Lewis in the third quarter was a travesty!” and I will say, “Seriously!” even though I don’t know who Lewis is or what team he’s on. I do this because I’m your friend and friends act interested in things their friends care about. And because if I said, “Who’s Lewis?” you’d look at me like I just ate a booger.

Thus concludes my Man Tag response. Normally I would now name several other people who would then be obligated to write their own quirky post. However, refusing to pass on internet memes is another of my quirks, and so I will refrain. If you want to write your own quirks list because you feel you could benefit from some self-reflection, just nominate yourself in the comments and we’ll pretend I tagged you.

Seasons: Pretty Much Unnecessary

Here in Ohio, I often hear people say things such as, “I couldn’t live without my seasons”. This, of course, is ridiculous. There are millions of people around the world (mostly in the middle part) who live long and full lives without much in the way of seasons. In fact, just about all of the places that we routinely call ‘paradise’ are essentially seasonless. Growing up in southern California, I quite enjoyed the fact that our seasonal changes were indistinct and largely ignorable. This allowed me to pursue my hobbies, such as walking around outside in shorts and sandals, year-round.

Needless to say, I have mixed feelings about seasons. I suspect that many a supposed season-lover secretly feels the same. Why else would so many life-long Ohioans, upon reaching retirement, abandon their motherland for the balmy shores of Florida? But, you may say, many of them only go for the winter, which can be hard on the elderly. I might respond that it’s rude to talk about old people that way, and then tell you that that argument plays right into my hands.

To get to the heart of the matter, we need to take a biased close look at the seasons of the Midwest. Here’s what my analysis reveals:

• Spring is actually just winter, with the addition of some desperate and foolishly optimistic flowers.
• Winter is long, dark, cold, and miserable.
• Summer generally takes it’s sweet time getting here, and then when it does it’s infested with thunder storms.
• Fall brings mild weather and spectacular colors to the trees.

The results are telling. Most of the seasons are completely lousy at their worst, and not very good at their best. So, when people say things like, “I couldn’t live without my seasons,” what I think they’re really saying is, “I like Fall”. Fall is Mother Nature’s trump card. Just when folks are about to pack their bags and head south for good, Mother Nature breaks out her paint set and instead of leaving, the people stand there transfixed. Suddenly people start saying irrational things like, “see, that’s why I love seasons!” Slap some pretty colors on the forest for a month or so and the Seasons have, essentially, bought themselves another year of loyalty.

Fall in Ohio is undeniably beautiful. California has nothing like it. Since I live in Ohio, I should probably just relax and enjoy its season-love-inducing show. Still, when Christmas rolls around I can’t helping thinking that I’d much prefer to have the Great Pacific lapping at my toes, than Jack Frost nipping at my nose.

Fungus Among Us

These just popped up all of sudden in our back yard. They were promptly covered by our tree shedding its leaves this week (yay, Fall!) Any idea what kind of shrooms these are? Do we need to do anything to get rid of them? I have yet to do my homework but I’m guessing they’re harmless.

(Having fun with the “macro” setting)

When Daddy & Baby Are Left Alone

Sometimes you have to get creative…

I was on my way out the door for volleyball when I spotted this and took a quick picture:

Jason was busy helping a neighbor plug her fridge into our house (using an extension cord) because they lost power for a few days last week. I had to take off for volleyball. Alex needed to finish off his bottle. Independent as he is, Alex fended for himself.

Facebook-Only Friends

Ok, so now Facebook is giving me recommendations on who should be my friend, because seriously, if my friend is friends with someone, I should be too! Everyone else is doing it…

If I’m friends with you and you’re friends with him, then logically I should be friends with him too, right? Because I like you and you like me, and you like him and he likes you, so naturally he will like me and I will like him.

How can we be Facebook friends if we don’t even talk in real life? Is that true friendship? Are we going for quantity, or quality?

P. S. If you are interested in a quality Facebook friendship, add me today.