December 14th, 2007

A Lad Insane (Seven Totally Irrational Fears I Had During My Childhood)

1. That the Earth was going to completely flood.

Origins of this fear: Hearing the story of Noah’s Ark. Realizing I did not know how to swim yet.

Results of this fear: Bursting into tears whenever anyone left any type of water running for more than 15 seconds. This included when my dad was outside trying to wash the car, water the lawn, or irrigate our family’s garden.

Equivalent Adult Fear: That I’ll have to pay inexplicable, exorbitant water bills for a long period of time, due to an underground pipe at my residence being ruptured.

2. That I’d get trapped in quicksand.

Origin of this fear: An older kid who lived across the street telling me about quicksand/telling me our neighborhood contained patches of quicksand.

Results of this fear: Being unable to plant my feet anywhere where I hadn’t already walked and was sure was not a portal to a gritty abyss.

Equivalent Adult Fear: That my car’s timing belt will break on a section of interstate with no shoulder to pull it off onto.

3. That I’d be attacked by a swarm of killer bees while playing in the backyard.

Origin of this fear: Hearing a sensationalist TV news piece in the mid-80s about killer bees and how they truly could kill and how they were storming north from Mexico leaving dead people in their path and how soon they were going to be all over the US, killing it up.

Results of this fear: Fleeing to our screened-in porch whenever I saw (or thought I saw) something in the backyard that was 1) flying and 2) yellow.

Equivalent Adult Fear: That I’ll be attacked by a swarm of killer bees while drinking in the backyard.

4. That while I had gone off by myself to look around in the toy section at Wal-Mart, my parents would seize on the opportunity, take my other two siblings, put them in the car, and split, ’cause, it turned out, I wasn’t actually their child — they’d just been reluctantly raising me since I was old enough to remember

Origin of this fear: Probably the same incident that made me realize it was actually possible to get separated from my parents. It was at a boat show my dad took me to when we still lived in Michigan. It was pretty crowded and we somehow managed to head separate ways at an intersection on the paths around the boats. I was letting my mind wander, thinking I was still walking along beside him, then for some reason I looked over and discovered he wasn’t there. I scanned the mob and found I had no idea who anyone surrounding me was. I meandered around in various directions for probably 15–20 minutes before a couple from an impromptu search committee Dad had formed located me and reunited me with him.

Results of this fear: The sudden urge to rush around the store and locate one or both of my parents.

Equivalent Adult Fear: Throwing a party and no one showing up.

5. That, after someone died, their legs were sawed off to fit them in their coffin.

Origin of this fear: Going to my first viewing for an elderly relative who had passed away, where only the top half of the coffin was open. Not understanding that the coffin’s “trench” continued under the closed portion of the lid.

Results of this fear: Manically and, according to her recollections, quite loudly, questioning my mom as to why the funeral home would do such a thing. (Apparently, the removal of someone’s limbs even after they were deceased really bothered me.) After the room had cleared out, my mom had to get the owner of the funeral home to open the bottom part of the coffin lid so I could see legs and feet, to get me to calm down.

Equivalent Adult Fear: That one day I’ll have to get the owner of a funeral home to open the bottom part of a coffin lid so my child can see legs and feet, and will calm down.

6. That all of my stuffed animals (who I was concerned were secretly alive) would get together and attack me while I slept.

Origin of this fear: I have no idea.

Results of this fear: Again, my poor mother having to solve the problem by coming into my bedroom and turning all my stuffed animals around to face the wall before I went to sleep at night. Evidently I felt that if their beady black eyes weren’t on me, the cotton-blend bears and cats would lose their conspiring/mauling abilities.

Equivalent Adult Fear: Rabies, distemper, bird flu, anthrax, mad cow.

7. That I would wake up in the woods near my house in the middle of the night and make my way home — scrambling up a hill and crossing a set of railroad tracks. I’d know where I was, but somehow my surroundings would seem strange. When I arrived at my family’s house I’d find the door locked. I’d ring the bell and some lady I’d never seen before in my life would answer the door. I’d get confused and hysterical and, after the lady called the police to come help me, I’d discovered I had gone missing a decade before, yet I hadn’t aged a day since! I’d be reunited with my parents, who lived in a different house, and were all wrinkly and had gray hair. Also, I’d find out my younger siblings were now tall, intimidating teenagers who were in high school. And that they’d given all my stuff away.

Origin of this fear: The movie Flight of the Navigator

Results of this fear: Just a constant gut-wrenching feeling that this was the worst thing that could ever happen to me and that, inevitably, one day, it would. I never told anyone about it at the time. It lasted a little over a year.

Equivalent Adult Fear: Online identity theft.

Tags: Recollections | No Comments »

December 6th, 2007

I Look Just Sorta Like Buddy Holly

A few weeks ago I got some new glasses and just now I have officially decided that I like them.

I got frames from the black, thick-rimmed FilmSchool™ line. It was a big step for me, because, back when I first started wearing glasses (and therefore paying attention to them), it seemed the only people who wore this style, frankly, were pompous douchebags. They were self-important ad executives who wouldn’t give me an internship with their company and snobbish record store employees who judged me based on my lame CD purchases. (Which reminds me: singer-songwriter Lisa Loeb. She also wore glasses like this at the time.) So I stayed clear of this type of eyewear. I did not want to seem like a pompous douchebag, even though, I had to admit, these pompous douchebags looked pretty sharp.

I was also in something of a “buy cheap, buy often” mindset. Or rather a “since you’re going to be buying often, because you seem to lose a pair of glasses a year, you better buy cheap” mindset. And these stylish frames are not cheap.

Growing tired of the oval-shaped wire frames I’ve been sporting for years, however, I recently decided I wanted to try something different. And since I’d managed to hang on to my last pair of eyewear for well over a year and I now required a stronger prescription (Thanks, job in web design!) and my previous glasses featured both a left lens that popped out frequently and nosepads so worn down that I actually developed open sores on the bridge of my nose, it was time to go for it.

I went to LensCrafters and, after about 15 minutes of browsing, I put on my future frames and found that they felt totally natural on my face. I knew, before I even saw what I looked like in them (and more importantly the wife’s reaction to what I looked liked in them), that these were the glasses for me.

Plastic frames: so much more comfortable than metal ones. Makes sense I guess, but I’d never heard about this before. Why had you kept this from me, plastic-glasses-wearers? The Brooks Brothers models I adopted definitely qualify as “thick rims,” but I’d say they are on the thinner side of that spectrum. A lot of people I know haven’t even noticed the change — or haven’t mentioned it to me if they did. Interestingly, I did get a positive response from my totally normal, “guy’s guy” friend Smitty. Very positive. He was emphatically telling me how nice he thought I looked in them…every time he saw me…repeatedly…. And I totally appreciate it, regardless of how many yards the judge says he has to stay from me.

My brother spotted them too, but he just informed me, indifferently, that I now look like Ben Folds.

Other than this, they kind of slid in under radar. Which scores big points for them. I am not a huge fan of discussions about changes in my personal appearance. I guess because there’s always the risk that you’ll have an interaction like this:

Someone who sees you often: “Hey, you got a haircut!”

You: “Oh! Yeah, I did.”

Someone who sees you often: (Nothing further.)

You (unsure if their initial comment was supposed to be a compliment or if they just don’t have anything nice to say about the alteration you’ve made): “Like you’re so hot….”

Someone who sees you often: “What?”

You: “Hmm? Nothing.”

Tags: Happenings | No Comments »