I don't think I'd do grrrrrreat

I grew up poor. If I discover a skill or invent something that gets me a billion dollars, somewhere along the way I'm going to screw up. I don't have any training or role models to help me determine how to deal with that much money. So yeah, somewhere, somehow, I'd do something monumentally stupid.

Fore

"Hello. I'm Tiger Woods.

I'm the best in the world at what I do. Because of that, I'm going to pretend it's normal that the world throws obscene amounts of money at me. The world, in turn, is going to pretend it's perfectly OK to examine my life under a microscope, hashing and rehashing details so mundane they wouldn't make page 6 in the Podunk Gazette, then pondering, speculating and outright fabricating stuff they missed in the microscope.

And by mutual consent the world and I are going to pretend that this relationship isn't batshit crazy.

Love and bruises,

T"

Cancer Sucks

Just got the news: wife's aunt died a bit ago. Wife isn't home, so I'll break the news later. Please donate to American Cancer Society.

Svendled?

So as I was saying...

I'm on some social network or other, I think it's MeetOtherNerdsLikeMe, and there's this guy, we'll call him Sven, who starts every day, and almost every post, by praising Jebus and thanking the Lord for the really beautiful day and all the wonderful nerds and such. So far all well and good.

The other day I posted that I had gone to see a movie: Pee Wee Herman 3 - Bubba Makes Me His Bitch. Well, Sven posts that he saw it online and asks why I'd be so naive as to pay to see it in a theater.

At this point I become confused. Not an uncommon state for me, but still...

You see, I know Pee Wee 3 is a brand new release, and I'm fairly sure that watching it for free constitutes theft. So that's part one of the confusion.

Part 2 is my ign'ant atheist self. I seem to recall a fairly important tenet of the Praise Jebus faith, something about the 11 Fairly Strong Suggestions, I think. I'm trying to remember the pertinent one.

Thou shalt not eat veal?
Thou shalt not ride a Big Wheel?
Thou shalt not squeal? (That sounds damn close...)
Thou shalt not listen to The Captain and Tennille? (OK, there should have been a 12th Fairly Strong Suggestion.)

In any event, must steal away to think of the next pithy post.

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Two Notes For The Jebus Praisers Who Will Bring Up The Inevitable Objections:

1. Of course I know I'm not perfect. There are at least two misspellings in this post, I'm on 37 antipsychotic drugs, and I watch way too much court tv. (Except for Judge Judy. She's just mean.)

2. No, I'm not saying Sven is pure evil. I'm fairly sure he has not practiced animal husbandry or worshipped a false American Idol.

Where's Fall Out Boy?

Friday morning I became Nuclear Man. I had radiation injected into my veins. I'm having the same thing done tomorrow at 6 am. Traumatizing, I know. Not the nuclear part; the part about 6 am.

I've been having some symptoms that scare my family physician a bit: shortness of breath, occasional chest pain, stuff like that. Plus I have nearly every risk factor in the book. I'm overweight, diabetic, with a horrible family history of heart disease. All I need to do is take up smoking and I run the table.

The doctor is kind of a character. He walked in, introduced himself, then said, "We both know how we're going to die, don't we? Heart attack or cancer." Turns out he's diabetic too. He did go on to say that we want to delay these options as long as possible. I like the guy.

So after Friday where I was stripped, poked, prodded, ultrasounded, placed on a treadmill, injected with radioactive material and scanned, I have to do the nuclear thing again in six hours.

Oh, and I had a good guitar lesson today.

Random stuff

I wrote a second song, this time an instrumental. My guitar teacher and I really deconstructed it, going over what worked what didn't, and why. I learned a ton about music and songwriting from this. It was revelatory. And loads of fun to boot.

My primary care physician has some concerns about my health, so he wants me to get a cardiac stress test and a pulmonary function test. I've already met with the cardiologist for the preliminaries. he seems like a great guy. I hope my bum knee can hold out for the cardio stress test. :)

In an odd turn of events, I'm giving a lecture to the local magic group. I know. I don't know how it happened either. I think someone drugged my drink. I'll be speaking on the life and times of Theodore John Squires/Ted Anneman/Ted Annemann. The man had more names than I have health issues.

I now have more responsibilities at work, and it's stuff I enjoy doing. Now if it just meant more pay...

The Stranger

I look at other people, then I look at myself, and I make this observation: I'm odd.

Why do I think I'm odd, you ask? Good question. Well, first off, I look at other people, then I look at myself, and I try to determine what is odd and what is not from that observation. That's odd. But there's more.

Let's take my hobbies. ("Take my hobbies, please!") I played competitive table tennis for more than 30 years until I had a knee blow out. And when I coached table tennis players I mostly coached wheelchair players, even though I never used a wheelchair.

OK, who plays competitive table tennis? Anyone? Anyone? Beuller? And how the heck did I decide to coach wheelchair players? And why am I mixing pronouns all over the place in this blog entry?

Next up: magic. I even worked as a professional magician for a very short time. Magic is, by its very nature, strange. One works very hard to develop skills so that one looks like one has no skills to display. Magic attracts some odd cats. And consider; as a magician, one's job is to convine folks that the impossible is happening. Granted, not very many magicians achieve that goal, or even know it's the goal to be achieved, but there you are.

I have also written and performed stand-up comedy. I've even sold some of the stuff I've written. OK, now the quirks are getting serious.

I'm also into origami. Yep, that weird stuff where you take a piece of paper and fold it into some vaguely recognizable shape. And I'm not just into the folding part, or the end result, I love the process, and the mathematics behind it. (That's right: I'm also a math geek. I read math books for fun.)

Music kind of sums up the oddity that is me in many ways. Love music of all sorts, including stuff that to many people barely classifies as music. I'm as likely to listen to Jim Pepper as I am to Bach as I am to OutKast as I am to George Harrison as I am to Antony and the Johnsons as I am to Animal Collective as I am to Gregorian chants as I am to Phil Ochs as I am to Milla etc. One of the ways I purchase music works like this: I walk into a place that sells music, go up to the first sales person I see, and ask them what they would listen to if they could put anything on right now. My rule is if it's in the store and I don't own it, I must buy it. It keeps me from getting in a musical rut, and I've found some terrific music that way. If they ask what I like, I tell them that's not the point.

I like horror movies, action films and chick flicks. Oh, and cartoons. I love cartoons.

Other oddities: I still marvel that we have less sunlight as we approach winter and more as we approach summer. I love watching familiar shadows creep various distances as the seasons change.

One time on a trip I suddenly burst into tears. When my wife asked what was the matter I explained that I had the sudden feeling that every blade of grass (pointing to the prairie outside our window) was my friend.

I don't watch much television but I have a lot of information about current programs because I'm always reading - either magazines or internet articles.

I form attachments much easier with children and animals than I do with adults. However, I don't want any children of my own.

I'm very precise with my own communication, but accepting of imprecision in others'. I select words with a care that sometimes borders on OCD. I'll worry over minute shades of meaning, struggling to convey what I want to say. Sometimes this makes me sound pompous. It's not intended.

I'll become fascinated by random subjects. I'll research them, collect articles, find online communities, and generally immerse myself. One such recent fascination is autism. Interest in autism has changed my perspective on a number of subjects, some only tangentially related.

Anyway, take all of those things and more (I didn't list some of the weirder ones such as my thing with Wesson Oil, baby snakes, and BBs), and you end up with one strange dude.

I dare you to disagree.

Video killed the radio star

My opinion matters!

My wife and I have, for the past week, been providing information regarding our radio listening habits via an Arbitron questionnaire. For those of you not familiar with Arbitron, it's the radio version of television's Nielsen ratings. It's used for bragging rights and to set ad rates for the quarter, among other things.

I noticed something that shouldn't surprise anyone: being "watched" changes my behavior. Normally, when I listen to the radio (mostly in my car) I'll flip through stations willy-nilly searching for something I want to hear. However, now that Big Brother is watching (and because I'm lazy but honest), I stay pretty much on my favorite station(s) or just listen to a CD.

I'm curious if Mr. 'tron takes that into account when compiling his ratings.


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Side note: My company just went through a round of layoffs. I survived but many did not. There is relief mixed with stress and sorrow. Things are going to be in turmoil for a while.