nobody asked…

As loathe as I am to memes, I will sometimes comply when tagged by a beautiful, wide-eyed girl maiden. Many might consider this a weakness. I consider it a strength. I know how my bread gets buttered. So when Janie (Sounding Forth) of West Texas Oilpatch fame asked me to participate in this, I wilted in her virtual presence and said, Of course, my dear. This came from Janie as a request to tell seven random facts about myself.

Since everything about me is random, this looked too easy, so I’m tweaking it with an assumption that what I tell should be facts not heretofore known in this here blog. Y’all know ol’ Winston — he cain’t never leave things be — always gotta be tinkerin’ and tweakin’. And in that spirit, I will spin not seven, but nine random facts y’all probably don’t know. Seven of them are absolutely, dead on, gospel true and two are made up on the spot for your readin’ and chucklin’ pleasure. We’ll see if any of y’all knows fact from fiction…

1. I’m a right decent cook. At least my chow has not killed anyone. Yet. That I know of. You name it, I’ll grill it, and you’ll love it. Back in the kitchen, I can whip up some pretty mean dishes and meals. One of my favorites is Fettucini Carbonara with a Mozzarella and Italian Tomato Salad with Fresh Basil Essence to start. Veal Picatta is another. And if you want something simpler, I make a variety of wraps that you’ll be writing home about. My baked beans are to die for, and my Super Bowl Chili will set you free…
2. I was, once upon a time, a band leader, or as we called it back then, a combo. Two members of the group went on to college on music scholarships. Music was my first love, but I knew I would starve to death trying to play clarinet in a rock ‘n roll band, so I went to engineering school, learned to blog, and am starving that way instead.
3. I love fresh cucumber sandwiches. White bread, slathered with lots of Miracle Whip Salad Dressing (no wimpy mayonaisse for me), quarter-inch slices of peeled cucumbers ( properly chilled to 44 deg F.), lots of salt and pepper. Fresh iced tea to wash it all down. Yum…
4. I was the Tennessee Competitive Snoring champion in back-to-back years, 1997-’98. In ‘97 I made it to the National Final Four and finished third overall. The next year I was knocked out in the first round of the Regionals, held in Clearwater, Florida, due to a sudden, unexpected, and unfortunately temporary clearing of my sinus passages. I blamed it on the wind driven salty air coming off the Gulf.
5. I haven’t had a bath in several years. In fact, I cannot remember the last time I had a bath. For me, it’s showers. I don’t like the idea of sitting in a tub of water in which I just washed my feet and arse. And aerated by fartation. A proctologist once told me the high incidence of hemorrhoids in the US is directly attributable to the invention and proliferation of the now ubiquitous shower. If folks would just sit in a tub of water every day to keep the rectal orifice clean and shrunken, he would be out of business. So he said after charging $10,000 for thirty minutes of time to snip mine in the bud. Still, I shower…
6. I am not driven by the clock, but am always on time. I don’t like rings, watches, bracelets, ties or anything else that binds and restricts. My underwear provides enough of that. On leaving the Great Corporate Mineshaft in the mid-eighties, I put my watch in the drawer and never looked back. My cell phone shows me the accurate time, synchronized to the AT&T/Cingular atomic clocks, anytime I have a need to know. Yet, I am always on time, usually a bit early. On the rare occasion when I am in danger of running late for an appointment, I begin to sweat and panic and do whatever is needed to make up lost time in order to maintain my record of punctuality. I know, strange…
   
7. I’ve never been arrested for a sex crime. Or any other kind of crime. Not even charged with a misdemeanor. I’ve never sued or been sued and was only in a courtroom once — as a character witness. I s’pose all that makes me soooo boring. I should not have told y’all that. Now you’ll think I’m a goody two shoes, whatever the hell that means. I really wanted you to think worse of me than that…
8. I was a candidate for Mayor of Bellevue, Tennessee, (small Nashville suburb) as an Independent in 1988. I had never been, nor had aspirations to be, in politics. Bellevue had been my home since moving back to Tennessee a couple of years earlier. An independent citizens group approached me with a request, a plan, and a plea. With no really viable candidate in their political field of vision that year, they kept after me until I said yes. Their support of me was purely on the basis of hearing me make a couple of impassioned, emotional speeches to the Chamber of Commerce to urge backing of programs I felt important for the business community in Bellevue. We did not win, but got a lot of voter and media attention with my hellfire and damnation speeches, ate a lot of rally finger food, and had a damn good showing for a complete newbie. As a bonus, I met a lot of hot babes exciting, intelligent women during the campaign.
9. I really believe that Bush is the devil incarnate. I never realized the devil was that stupid. No explanation or further details needed. His behavior and perfomance are enough. I really believe that Bush is far too good to be President. His all encompassing knowledge, unsurpassed leadership, and uncompromised principles are recognized by all. He should be immediately removed from the Office of the President of the United States of America, and elevated to his rightful position as Supreme Exalted Holy Earthly Soverign, Leader, Prophet, and Savior of the One True Church of the One True God of Gods Forever and Ever, Amen. All men, all countries, all religions, and all corporate CEOs shall fall at his feet and squint as he passes lest his brilliance blind them.

Well, that’s pretty much it. I hope Janie is not too terribly embarrassed by my responses. If you’ve stayed with me through this grueling expose of a few of my innermost dark secrets, place your bets on which two items are fiction, leaving seven as some semblance of what passes for truth around here.