4/13/06

Catch Up On Your Colin Knowledge

...

41) My conflict-resolution strategy: 1. Figure out who cares least about the outcome. 2. That person compromises.

42) I'm usually the one who cares least.

43) Those little rye chips in the Chex mix - the kind no one likes? I like 'em. Banana runts too.

44) I once wrote a paper about the origin and history of the word "shampoo." It actually comes from a Hindu term for massage, but was for a brief time used in place of "champagne" by drunken characters in old romance movies.

45) The other day I wished I'd chosen the word "machine" instead, but quickly figured out that it's Greek and somewhat boring and "shampoo" really was the best choice available to me.

46) On the morning of September 13, 2005 I had to go to my mom's house to disconnect the plumbing from the kitchen sink, as the contractors coming later to install her new countertop had adamantly refused to touch any plumbing. I brought three different pairs of pliers but only used two. I still felt pretty good about the three pairs I had selected, and believe they were the right choices.

47) I once wrote a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure story in college, just to see if I could do it. My writing professor said it was a "Tour de Force", which is French for "being a big show-off."

48) When I drive a car, I press on the accelerator with the side of my foot, instead of the bottom. No one knows why.

49) Speaking of my feet, I often end up walking on the bottom cuffs of my jeans, even though I make sure all my jeans are 36" in length.

50) I am starting to suspect that I may actually have short legs.

51) Dammit.

52) When someone impresses or delights me with a turn of phrase, (see #11) I sometimes respond by giving that person a dollar. It’s partly because I want to give a memorable token of my appreciation, and partly because I wish to cultivate charming quirks, and partly because I’m broke. Still, I think it’s a great way to spend a buck.

53) I purchased and own a "throttle rocker," which is a small contoured plastic lever that attaches to the right handgrip of a motorcycle, allowing the user (me) to maintain speed without suffering from nagging hand cramps, as he (I) can then simply rest the heel of his (my) hand on the device and proceed thusly.

54) I also own a shot-put.

55) Factually, my wife and I are actually about the same height, though this is not relevant at all, practically speaking, since her shoes are usually taller than my shoes and because, even barefoot, she *looks* taller than me because she's narrower.

56) I have two eyes, two ears and a nose. Nobody said this had to be a hundred unique things.

57) I recently viewed a commercial for "Secret"-brand deodorant in which a teenaged girl confided that her "secret" was that she spoke fluent Italian. I got the feeling every commercial in this campaign will be in this vein, and that all the secrets revealed will be of the "secret-talent" or "secret-power" variety, rather than less flattering stuff like "I secretly pee in the shower." In truth, I am hugely impressed by multilingual people as well as those who can juggle or yodel or perform any other amusing party tricks.

58) My secret is that I don't have any secret abilities.

59) I can, however, recite the prologue to Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales," in Middle English.

60) I can also recite the opening verse to Public Enemy's "Can't Truss It," in Chuck D-speak. Less scholarly, I know.

61) I really enjoy the word "arterial" being used to describe roadways.

62) I take secret pleasure in addressing strangers honorifically. For instance, I'll call a homeless man, "sir," and imagine that I'm the only one to do so. I don't think this is ever interpreted as condescending - it certainly shouldn't be. If "sir" doesn't do the trick and make my associate smile, I'll sometimes resort to "sire."

63) I hate the song "California Dreamin'" by Jan and Dean and will turn off the radio if it is played.

64) I was born three weeks after Elvis' last concert, in downtown Indianapolis, and five days after Sandy Allen, the world's tallest living woman, underwent a pituitary gland operation to halt her growth — also in Indianapolis.

65) I type about 65 words per minute. No errors, baby.

66) Not really a fan of the jazz saxophone.

67) I have a small family and a large family and another large family. My mom was one of three kids, but my dad was one of nine, and they were a pretty reproductive bunch. Plus Penny's family is quite a crowd as well.

68) Awfully Pretty is a good candidate for a book title, in my opinion.

69) I have a whole lot of trouble not snickering when anyone talks about studying "abroad."

70) Especially if they do it "classy."

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I vote you don't stop at 100. Keep it going. This is fun! I thought we had drifted apart, but this list just re-inforces that I still do know you. :)

vz

Anonymous said...

Regarding #59: O gawd. Chaucer. In Middle English. Actually, I loved Chaucer, it's just that I had a professor... one of my faves of all time, in fact... a small, leprauchaunish red-headed Italian-Irish gentleman from New York City who was extremely excitable and animated and frequently pin-wheeled his arms whilst (whilst!) lecturing... who was awfully fond of making us read passages OUTLOUD. My readings were absolutely cringe worthy as I just can't make those hard Germanic sounds. I'm just not capable. Those four now defunct vowels? (wait, were they all vowels? I forget).. I say good riddance. yup.

In short, Chaucer good. Piers the Plowman, however? Sucks.

xo Wee

Anonymous said...

oops. My bad. The four letterforms I was yammering about? With the hard Germanic pronunciations? Old English, not Middle English. Sorry, about that... it was a long time ago and I've since filled my head up with a lot more useless knowlege elating to The Simpsons and acorns and illustration and such. sigh.

But here's the thing that's really throwing me: I distinctly remember having to try to read Old English aloud for that particular professor and I'm certain it had to be in my 14th Century Literature class because it wasn't in my Gothic Fiction class which is the only other class I took with him... but be damned if I can remember what text we were reading. The Saints Lives, maybe? Was that Old English? Gah.

How embarrassing. Shhh! Don't tell anyone. My spelling and punctuation are atrocious enough. If the University finds out about this, they'll revoke my English degree FOR SURE.

xo Wee

Colin said...

Oh, I'd say you should be given an honorary doctorate just for your efforts in popularizing "whilst" ("whilst!") in common usage.