Ten
Got tagged by Wandering the Ether to list 10 random facts. Here goes:
1. They thought I was border-line autistic when I was a kid. I used to read the phone book for hours. Then my mom got me a football for my 5th birthday and I started making friends.
2. I was an average football (soccer) player, and I grew up to be an average student, an average bass player, an average backgammon player, an average writer, and an average looking guy. I got me an above-average lady, though. I guess I have an above-average luck.
3. Honey complains I misrepresented myself when she met me because I had hair and I was in a band. I say she misrepresented herself because she was holding a pint and she doesn’t drink. Objection sustained.
4. I’m afraid one day I’ll start snoring and Honey will make me sleep on the couch. Then my transformation into my dad will be complete.
5. My dad was an officer, a real army man, but he wanted me to join the IT department in the Israeli military. He said he knew people. But I wanted to be a fighter just like him (or better, to be honest).
6. I heard the explosion that killed my friend in Lebanon and thought it was fireworks. Then I saw the helicopters and realized something bad happened.
7. I never cried like I did the next day, and I never will.
8. Then, at other times, I’m cold and distanced in the face of others’ pain, and when I wake up from my daydreams I think maybe I’m still borderline autistic.
9. I can’t help closing my eyes when I hear Leftfield’s “Storm 3000.” Thank God, there’s still some hippy in me.
10. Won some money at the Borgata last week. I was on a slot machine bonus round and I stayed there for a while. A small crowd surrounded me, and with Honey by my side... I don’t think she’s ever been so proud.
Now, I'll tag my three latest links:
1. Cafe Leone
2. East Med Sea Peace
3. The Other Side of My Head
As usual, feel free to ignore this tag. That is, if you're EVIL!
25 comments:
honoured..
Very nice list. I hate the whole tagging blog thing but your's was fun to read. I especially like the one about being average and finding the above average girl -- nice call for keeping your girl happy. Second best meme deal I've seen (after Spooky's pictorial of course). Not sure much could beat that.
I snore, does this mean I am a dad? And my kids have been calling me mom for all these years....
I am honored. Thank you! But I promise your "10" is much more interesting than mine.
Stay tuned....
hmmm... i'm gonna need a few days to make mine interesting. and i hope we're not playing freeze variety of meme tag because i really need to use the bathroom.
Oh I don't know, you look like a pretty good lookin' guy to me :)
Lirun, Dan, and Kirsten, thanks for indulging me. That was quick.
Jennifer, thanks. Spooky's list was genius. I think the meme thing can go either way. On the one hand it can reduce a blog to a lame writing exercise, but on the other hand it can challenge people and it has the potential to enhance the community aspect of blogging.
Mel, if you sleep on the couch, snore, wake up screaming in the middle of the night, eat ice cream, then go back to sleep on the couch, snore, and wake up screaming an hour later, then yes, you're my dad.
Fab, I was hoping everyone would say that, but I'm glad at least you did. To be honest, I did put my good side up there (the left side of my face is mostly green).
Thank you for not tagging me. By the way, in preschool the teacher wanted me tested for autism, but my mother refused. I guess you and I are both geniuses.
I am sorry about your friend. I lost a friend when I was young, too. Not in the same manner, however.
I may steal this from you. Always feel free to tag me. I am always in need of tags for my Meme Mondays.
Enemy, don't tempt me to tag you with a "What kind of cheese are you" meme.
Do you sometimes think maybe you should have had that test anyway? I wonder sometimes what's wrong (or right. Or just different) with me.
Shelli, please go ahead and do this. I liked doing it because there were no rules. About the guy--I tried to remember if I wrote about this before on this blog so I did a search with the word Lebanon and apparently I've written about it twice. In each time there was only one line. Maybe one day I'll write more about it. Or maybe I've written everything I could about that day.
I guess I have an above-average luck.
Nice.
Now, I want to know about your friend. Did he wash his hands before he ate? Did he snore? I don't want to view him as a statistic--I want to know what he worried about... maybe he hated hangnails as much as I do. We shall see.
Love the blog, man. Just found you for the first time through BlogExplosion and took a look back.
Your stories are great, and the immigration post a while back is excellent. I'll be checking in regularly... mind if I blogroll you?
-Mike
durante, maybe the hard thing is to admit he wasn't a close friend. We didn't get along well at first when we served together (serve is a funny word. Who did we really serve?) The only time I met him without his uniform was when a group of us had a week off and went to Eilat, a resort town in the south of Israel. He was dressed in black and had chains and necklaces and piercings, and I think he just, on that day, came to represent for me the individual you miss when you spend time with a person with uniform. And then, when he died, his unique individuality died with him and all that was left were the headline and the tragedy for our military unit. So I never knew much about him, other than that I wish he made it through the military alive, free to be who he wanted to be.
Mike, thanks and welcome. It feels great to hear that.
Strange. Sometimes when I don't see the logic in my own thinking I suspect I'm autistic. Is this the standard direction 'people' turn to when wrapped up by trying to define one own's reactions to experiences?
I think this is the most of your face you've shown. You kind of look like you're about to sneeze so "God Bless You."
I'll try to remember to put up booby shots for you every once in a while. Maybe it's time for a "Nice Rack" entry.
Tsedek, I think for me it's just knowing that I get very involved sometimes, but most of the time I can sit and watch the world collapse in front of me and not care, like nothing concerns me--and I'm not talking about it in political terms but literally, like nothing exists, including me. But maybe it's just modern existence.
Scot, I think I was being attacked by the white blanky. Now, that's what happens when you take a vain person like me who wants to have an anonymous blog. You get half a face. I should really bring back the doggies pictures.
And yes, about the boobies...
Awesome! Been away a bit, but enjoyed getting to know you better :)
I also feel detached sometimes. Perhaps that's autism. I've thought about that. Who knows...
First it made me laugh, then in the middle it made me sad and I was with you in Borgata at the end (you are right about your wife, way out of your league)
Actually I have wondered if I am autistic. Too late now.
Dave, thanks for the tag.
Tsedek, Enemy, I think when I was a kid reading phone books it was closer to the real thing. But who knows, either we are somewhere in that neighborhood or we all just react normally to an insane world by shutting ourselves off now and then.
Spooky, way Way WAY out of my leaugue. Luckily, the Borgata winning bought me some time, which I will use to improve myself (by buying a toupee).
I am amazed by the fact that you can wish he lived even though you two didn't get along well in the beginning.
A common enemy unites. I get that.
But it is interesting to me how not even all that can keep one man from fighting alongside and for his fellowman based on some things that are as basic as blue eyes and crooked toes.
Just fucking amazing.
Sorry about your friend.
durante, we probably had two common enemies--Hezbollah and our own government, both of which were united in trying to kill us. Now, we didn't get along at the beginning but it was never a big deal. A few times we argued over stupid stuff. I wish he had lived to express his individuality outside the army, that's what I meant.
And as for fighting alongside someone else, it's all random anyway. And the truth of fighting with someone against someone else is subjective and determined on this random identity we spend our lives resisting or embracing.
You stories of the Israeli army always shake me up. Thank you for sharing them as we never get to see this on the news or anywhere else. They also help me better understand the conflict.
I'm an average guy too and here's to hoping I meet an above average woman as you did.
Ricardo, what's the point of becoming Jewish if you can't get someone to arrange a shidduch? Do I need to get my grandma involved?
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