Adamus at Large

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Six Absolutely Nonspectacular Things about Me.

I have been tagged by Indigo Bunting. So that means I’m It. This is, if I read correctly, a meme. I don’t know what a meme is, other than something cried again and again by a spoiled child. I could look it up but I won’t. – it is a seldom thing I do not know what a word is and I am rather enjoying the experience.

It appears the sort of game one plays on Facebook. Yes, I am on Facebook. What, I can’t have a virtual life? Like my social calendar is so full I can’t afford some quality pixel-time? It’s the sort of game one would play, as well, sitting in a campfire circle with nothing better to do, on a long car ride or crushed in a shuttered two-bedroom, one bath house with three families for four days while one waits for two hurricanes to decide what they are doing although I recall that game being six reasons not to bludgeon Adam.

Since these things have never been spectacular, saying they are now un seems a bit silly. So, in the interest of temporal and causal correctitude, here are six nonspectacular things about me:

1. I put the cap back on everything. Toothpaste, deodorant, spices. Everything. I close the lid on the toilet. (Always fun in the middle of the night to hear my wife curse about that. Especially when it’s cold out.) I’ll spend the afternoon looking for a missing cap.

2. My eyelashes are way too long. They make streaks on the inside of my glasses. Always have. Bloody pain in the ass.

3. I love the smell of the mold that grows on flagstones inside homes. The smell of musty books too.

4. If you walk on my left side or too far over on my right I don’t know you are there except for the sound you make as I repeatedly walk into you. I usually don’t hear that though because after the second time I’m laughing too hard.

5. My favorite bit of writing in the world is Einstein’s Dreams by Alan Lightman, an appropriately named fellow as he is a physicist who studies light. He has a Ph.D in Literature and in Physics. The writing is elegant and clear, has a rhythm that transcends the beauty of most music, a cadence that dances in the air moments still after the words have passed. It is to be read aloud and, in my home, is again and again. It is romantic, it is grounded, it is warm and stark. It is to what I aspire and do not achieve. It is a worthy goal for which I thank Lightman.

6. A certain part of my body bends to the left. Only one percent of people have that. But the bend is small and, really, fully nonspectacular.

(Craig wrote this part. I feel incredibly lazy. I am not rewriting it.)Tagging, I understand, obligates those tagged to write a similar post in their own blogs. So I hereby tag Alane, Susan, The Mongolian Monk, Laura-Sue, The Amok Monk and Val unless they have already been tagged by others, in which case they need to tell me so I can find someone else to tag. (On second thought, don’t.)

Meme Terms and Conditions

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Mention the rules on your blog.
3. List six unspectacular things about you.
4. Tag six other bloggers by linking to them.

5 comments:

Indigo Bunting said...

Ooooo, above and beyond the call of duty. Lovely intro. And I totally get the cap thing.

Sewa Yoleme said...

Maybe you can come over to my house and find all the caps that have gone missing.

And I'm definitely putting the Lightman book on my Amazon wish list.

Sewa Yoleme said...

What boggles my mind is not the bendy part, but the fact that you know one percent of the population have similarly bendy parts.

Adam Byrn "Adamus" Tritt said...

I spent more than a year in honours symposiums and doing research on such parts, asking embarassing questions about such parts and measuring such parts while asking what people preferred to do with such parts.

Mostly to Latins.

Adam Byrn "Adamus" Tritt said...

I heard a page read on the radio, NPR, the same night I heard Douglas Adams read H2G2. I picked up both as soon as I could.

I first read Einstein's Dreams the same night I got it. The lights had gone out. I lit a hurricane lamp, got a small glass of sherry and read it straight through to the sound of the rain.

I then went to he beginning and read it again. I did not sleep until four that morning.