I was last to get picked in kickball* too…

I was tagged.

This is what I’m supposed to do:
1) Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog
2) Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself
3) Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs
4) Let each person know that they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

I’m in a tough spot because I live my life online much like I do in real life… and it doesn’t involve a lot of different people (I get a royalty for every dictionary sold that has the word “shy” in it). The bottom line is that I don’t have seven people I know who I can link to, and one of the people I could tag, might not notice he’s been tagged for a few months yet.

I don’t want to be a complete killjoy, so I will share the 7 facts (even though they’re probably already covered here somewhere… owing to the fact that my life tends to be an open blog).

1. I was given a free trip to Las Vegas (with a room at the Mirage). That’s not the fact, just the context. I went and didn’t gamble (not even a nickel and the cheap slots), because I thought it would be funny to be able to say I went to Vegas and didn’t gamble. (Is something funny if you’re the only one who thinks it’s funny?)

2. I used to think riding my bike to work (ten miles, each way) made me pretty cool.

3. Due to poor genetics I’ve got some of the ugliest toes you’ve never seen.

When I lived in Massachusetts:

4. My parents told me not to sled down the hill across the street. I did anyway and broke my hip… when I was five. After I lost consciousness, the high school kids who ran over me (and broke said hip), carried me back to my house using my sled as a makeshift stretcher. My mother thought I was dead. Afterwards, my mother never once made me wish I was.

5. Knowing that you’re only as good as your last performance, the next year I (unintentionally) hung myself upside-down from my swingset (from the elastic foot loop on my snowsuit). My father saw me hanging there motionless out the back window and thought I was dead. I don’t remember what happened afterwards, but I think my dad remembers that day whenever he hears tales of his grandkid’s latest exploits (like Adam getting stuff off the top of the refrigerator this afternoon).

6. I think I might have had something to do with my parents’ decision to move to Florida.

7. My wife got these Halloween Kit-Kat bars to hand out to the neighborhood kids that tasted so freakin’ good… I took it as evidence that there is a God, and he likes white chocolate too.

I may have eaten half of them, but I swear it was an accident. (Just so you know, my wife doesn’t believe me either.)

BONUS FACT / EGO MASSAGE: My “guideline spreadsheet” is used statewide by the Florida Child Support Enforcement Program to calculate the amount of child support established in court hearings.

Woo-hoo, I’ll bet you didn’t know that I was THAT special.

*I made them all pay though. I may have been shy, but I was a pretty decent at team sports, I had a wicked strong leg for my age (the better to kick you with my dear!), and I wasn’t above holding a grudge.


  1. I don’t feel almost famous. I don’t usually go out of my way to tell folks about my contributions at the office. There have been folks I’ve worked with for the better part of a year and someone else will tell them, “you know, John was the one who designed that.” Then I get a round of, “Whoa, you’re the guideline guy? … Say, I’ve got this problem with… you think you could come up with something for that?”

    One of the upsides to working in government has been the people I get to work with. The clients can be hit or miss (mostly miss), but that’s the nature of my work (which still has it’s rewards). But my colleagues have been some of the nicest, most generous people I’ve known.

    Sometimes I feel like they’re more proud of the stuff I do than I am, which to me seems better than the achievement. Does that make any sense?

  2. I love the bonus fact! Wow, you’re almost famous!
    I used to work for government too and there was so little to be proud of that made any sense to anyone else outside the government or even my department…luckily I worked with Colleen so we could celebrate or little successes that meant little to anyone else together.

Give the gift of words.