I’ve decided to take identity theft as a compliment. Just to be clear, I’m not trying to defend it, just to make the best out of it. On two separate occasions, people have so admired my marvelous self that they’ve tried to become me. Isn’t there some quote about that being the sincerest form of flattery? If nothing else the experience is intriguing.
Of course, I’m a bit embarrassed by how effectively the thieves copied me: they took my identity and did very boring things with it. I half expect that next time my bank will tell me how someone stole my identity so that they could do all of my grocery shopping, or so that they could borrow philosophy books from the library. In that case reclaiming myself might not warrant the effort, especially if the thief is willing to take over my student loan debt. Oddly, no one has done that yet.
I do actually prefer other sorts of compliments though, if anyone out there is considering a life of crime as the best way of expressing their appreciation for my posts. For example, lately I’ve won a spate of awards; those are always nice. I also accept large cash payments and any dessert that blends fudge with peanut butter, especially if ice cream is involved. (After all, I wouldn’t want to limit someone’s free expression by only accepting awards.)
All of which means that I have some people to thank. I’d like to thank C.J. at foodstoriesblog.com, first. She nominated me for the Illuminating Blogger Award, which makes me sound much wiser than I am–here is some evidence–and is therefore very good for my self-esteem. Fortunately my wife will keep me grounded in reality or I might start a page devoted to my haphazard attempts at being insightfully pithy. (For this and many other services to humanity, she should win an award.)
I’d also like to thank SpookySister7. Twice actually. She nominated me for both the Sunshine Award and the One Lovely Blog Award. I’m always glad to know that I’ve made someone laugh out loud–a flattering claim she’s made on more than one occasion–and I only hope that I can live up to such high praise in blog posts to come. Maybe it’ll help that I’m constitutionally incapable of learning any lesson the easy way, and that my solutions to life’s problems tend to involve a higher than average rate of personal injury. If not, here’s a cartoon:
I also need to thank Sebastian Clouth from Beforeitsnews.com, who approached me about the possibility of syndication, then talked me through the simple process involved when it fuddled me completely. It’s nice to check something off of my list of childhood ambitions. (Being syndicated, not fuddled. I’m fuddled all the time.) If only he had also given me a gift certificate for free toys and a chance to become a character in Star Wars, that list would be complete. (Yes, I was an unusual child.) Maybe free toys are too much to ask for, but a boy can dream right?
Of course, with great recognition comes great responsibility, specifically in this case to share some facts about myself. Therefore behold:
The Usual Fools Guide to the Usual Fool
What is a favorite childhood memory?
This one’s easy. One night in December, I wandered out the hall to get a drink and discovered that no one had extinguished the lights on our Christmas tree. Their vibrant twinkling colors brought life to the dark wood paneling and transformed our living room into the perfect image of subtle, peaceful, beauty. It was like being hugged by Christmas, which is certainly why Christmas is my favorite holiday. As the famous carol puts it:
“A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices
for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn….”
Also, it was pretty.
What is a real fear you have?
This one is also easy. I’m terrified of vines. Do you know what my wife and I have in our garden? Three different sorts of vines. She might think I put the fence up around our garden to keep out rabbits, but I actually put it there to contain evil plants.
It isn’t working.
How would you describe yourself?
I’m enormous. I figure with that and the fact that I’m terrified of vines, you can probably paint an accurate mental picture.
What is your style?
Thanks to my wife, my style might be described as business casual, at least when I get out of my pajamas. Left to my own devices though, my style would be some sort of cartoon blend between musketeer and jester. I would give a lot to be able to wear a floppy hat and festively elaborate boots. The only trouble is that I would need a talking animal sidekick to complete the ensemble.
As I said before, my wife deserves an award.
What is your favorite breakfast food?
What are some of your hobbies?
I’m a storyteller; it saturates everything I do. I’m not sure it counts a hobby, but as often as possible, I tell stories in one form or another. Also I tend to play with fire.
If you could tell people anything, what would be the most important thing to say?
The obvious answer is the gospel of our Lord, and I’m not going to say something else just to avoid the obvious. However, for those who’ve heard it already and aren’t convinced, I would say this: God is better than you think.
What is one of your passions?
I like logic. I’m not sure that being passionate about logic makes sense though. As evidence of my passion however, consider that I’m analyzing the logic of my answer. Isn’t life grand?
What is the one truth you have learned?
Serious Answer: In Christ, no good thing is lost forever.
Otherwise Answer: Don’t play with fire while naked.
Share seven possibly unknown things about yourself.
1.) In both my WordPress and Facebook profiles, I wanted to use a picture of a ferret for myself instead of the glamorous picture my wife made me use.
2.) I once memorized fifty digits of pi because I was bored in algebra class. Sadly, I thought it was entertaining. (In case anyone is wondering: I only remember 28 digits.)
3.) I was once struck by lightning through a phone. It didn’t give me any super-powers. On an unrelated note, I still don’t like phones.
4.) I sat around watching live television coverage of a stationary bell while waiting for the election of Pope Benedict XVI. Eventually the bell moved, obviously, but then I stopped watching it.
5.) In my early teens, I sometimes entertained my classmates by dancing on tables and singing songs from animated films. They paid me with their lunch money, which seemed like a good deal at the time. Less so in retrospect.
6.) At one wedding for which I was a groomsman, I was the only person to arrive on time. The church was locked, so I changed clothes in the parking lot. It was the middle winter.
7.) I collect paper. Not fancy paper; the sort that people buy in bulk and throw away without thinking. I don’t know why; I just really like the stuff.