Apparently I have been “tagged” with an “Internet” “meme.” I don’t generally do these, but the tagger, Mother Reader, was kind enough to play along with my silly little game, so I feel obliged to reciprocate.
Five Little Known Things About Me
- Upon taking the first sip of carbonated beverages, my body responds with a little hiccupy-spasm. When I was young and still getting used to this quirk, I would routinely take a swig from a Big Gulp and then do a Jack-Tripper-like spit take, spewing Pineapple Crush onto all nearby. Now I take a small sip and wait out the reaction before quaffing the rest.
- I refuse to watch trailers for movies I intend to see. If, while in the theater, they show a trailer for an upcoming movie that I have the slightest interest in, I will turn my head away from the screen, stare at the floor, and aggressively think about Catherine Keener in an attempt to avoid hearing the dialog. I have, in my travels, met two other people who also do this, and we cannot figure out why the rest of you don’t. “Who’d want to see the best scenes before the movie comes out??” we ask each other rhetorically, and then sadly shake our heads.
- I do not pronounce my Ls correctly. I make the sound in the back of my throat, rather than by touching the tip of my tongue to the roof of my mouth. I was given speech therapy as a child but, as with the soda spasm, I eventually just figured out how to work around it, and when it got the point where no one could tell the difference they stopped trying to correct it. Still, it has a few practical ramifications: when choosing names for our child we steered cleared of those that contained Ls. Curiously, I make the L sound correctly when singing, reading aloud from a book, and shouting “Devil! Devil! Devil!’ at passing cars on the corner of 5th and Pine.
- I think hate crime legislation is stupid. If one guy punches another it’s assault and should be treated as assault — I don’t care what words he was saying at the time. More to the point, hate crime legislation pegs the severity of the punishment to what the assailant is thinking at the time he commit his crime, and I don’t think the government should be in the business of regulating thought — even the thoughts of ignorant idiot assholes. This fact is “little-known” about me because, whenever I mention it while around my liberal Seattle friends, they’re heads tend to asplode. And that’s a total drag, as most of my clothes are dry-clean only.
- Speaking of assault … (Fun fact: all the best stories start with the phrase “speaking of assault”). I have only once, as an adult, punched a guy. Except, I didn’t. I was in my early 20’s and working on a Conservation Corps crew. We all gave each other copious amounts of shit — heaping slander and slur upon each another in the name camaraderie — and no one ever took offense at anything. But one time my coworker Paul said something that made me see red. I don’t recall what it was — in fact, I can even imagine what it could have been, given the stuff I do remember simply laughing off at the time. Whatever it was caused me to go berserk: and I took three quick steps toward him, cocked my fist back, and started to throw a punch. But then the tiny part of my brain that was still rational pointed out that this would almost certainly result in the loss of my job, and not having a job seemed like a bad thing at the time. (What can I say? I was young and foolish.) So I arrested my swing and, instead, kicked him in the shin like an petulant, eight year-old, be-ponytailed-girl. And Paul, who could have easily kicked my ass (did I mention he was an ex-con?), looked down at his shin for a moment, dumbfounded, and then looked at me, and said “Dude, what the fuck?” And I was, like, “Whoa! I do not know what just happened to me there!” And then we laughed and went to work. Because, in the best of worlds, this is what young men do.