9

My dad is obsessed with the idea that our family is somehow connected to the number 9. I’m afraid to say that that obsession has been passed down to me. It started with easy things, such as a birthday having a 9 in it. (My dad’s is on the 29th.) Then it started to get spooky and widespread. In fact, the more we looked for it, the more the number 9 started to crop up. Of course, I’ll have to explain the rules as to what makes it legitimate.

1.  The number 9 is physically in the entity in question.
2.  The numbers in the entity add or multiply to the number 9.
3.  You can’t subtract or divide the numbers in the entity to arrive at the number 9.
4.  Mathematical operations cannot be performed for more than one iteration to get the number 9. (Such as my soccer jersey number, which was 28. I could divide 8 by 2 to get 4. Then, I could add 8, 2, and 4 to get 14. I could divide 4 by 1 to get 4. Then, I could add 4, 1, and 4 to get 9. While creative, this is not valid. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time on the bench…lots of time to think.)
5.  Any logical separation of the entity can be used to arrive at the number 9. Such, as you can take merely the month and day of a birthday without using the year.

Now, some examples of places this has occurred in my life:

• I was born at 9:33.
• My apartment number is 29C.
• I used to live at 549 Marino Rd.
• My cube number is 2070.
• I park in spot 81.
• I have been married on the 18th, 19th, and again on November 2, 2003. (Can’t see the last one, just add up 1 + 1 + 2 + 2 + 0 + 0 + 3.)

It’s not just me, though:

• My stepmother’s birthday is on February 7th.
• My dad and stepmother were married on April 23rd. (Again, 4 + 2 + 3.)
• Heck, my dad's favorite baseball player of all time, Ted Williams, even wore the number 9 on his jersey.

I’ll stop there, as that constitutes the perfect number of examples. (Think about it.) I predict this pattern will continue in our lives. It seems harmless enough, but it’s interesting to see it in action. I wonder if your life has a common number. Have you ever thought about it?

Trying to Understand a Scot

B.D. "I don't like them because they're from Glasgow.  Or maybe Ayr, which is pretty much the same thing, because people from Ayr wish they were from Glasgow."

D.K. "There sure are a lot of predjudices in Scotland.  You guys seem to hate everyone, even other Scots."

B.D.  "We're a clan-based nation, what did you expect?"

D.K. "But it's not just clan rivalry.  You guys hate certain political groups, people from any country other than Scotland, stupid people, religious people, people who like it above 65 degrees in the house, and people who can't grow a full beard in a day.  Then, you reserve the right to throw people from certain cities into any one of those categories, just to justify them being on your 'list'. 

"Oh, and the list...don't get me started on the list.  Any minor offense can get you thrown onto the list.  Like the guy that took the last Splenda packet or the guy that left the coffee pot with less than a half a cup of coffee left, so you'd have to make more.  Or the guy that has too much chrome on his GMC Yukon, which then puts anyone that drives a Yukon on the list.  The list is just a loophole for random hatred."

B.D. "Is there a problem with this?"

DID

The great thing about having Dissociative Identity Disorder (Multiple Personality Disorder) is that you always have someone to listen to you when you're talking to yourself in the mirror.

Half Empty or Half Full

Is the glass half empty or half full? This is an age-old question used to determine if you're a pessimist or an optimist by how you view the world. Some may argue that it's always full - containing 50% of water and 50% of air. Some (engineers) may argue that the glass is twice as big as it needs to be. While others still may argue that it depends on the previous condition of the glass. If it was previously empty, then it is now half full, having had water added to it. If it was previously full, then it is now half empty, having had water taken from it.

I think the more important questions to ask are...(If it's not my glass.) "Why didn't you clean up your dishes?!" and (If it's my glass.) "Who's been drinking my water?!"

Not Microwaveable

"Not Microwaveable."  That's what it says on the top of my watermelon container.  Why would anyone microwave watermelon? 

S.M. thinks the warning refers to the container itself being used to heat up food, but I'm pretty sure he's wrong.  It clearly refers to the watermelon.

Twisted Underwear

My dad once got a pair of underwear that had a twist in the middle of them.  In other words, the fabric between the legs had been twisted before it was sewn together.  Apparently, some guy on the assembly line was having a bad day and decided to share it with some innocent schmo.  Enter my dad.

To my dad's credit, he didn't just throw them away.  He decided to give them a chance.  After he spent the entire day, pulling a wedge out of his...well, you know, he decided to throw them out.  Not being one to throw skid-marked underwear in the trash, he decided to wash them first.  Unfortunately, he neglected to inform my stepmother of the plan, and she washed them and put them back in his drawer.  After the second day of pulling a wedge out of his...well, you know, he asked my stepmother to take them apart, untwist them, and sew them back together.  He figured that was safer than risking another day with a twist!

The Dangers of Handcuffs

Being as my father worked for the police department for 20-some years, it was not uncommon to have spare handcuffs around the house.  As a kid, I used to love to "play" policeman.  I'd handcuff everything.  This was all well and good until I handcuffed my grandmother behind the stove.  She had climbed back there to clean something and "snick" I handcuffed her to it.  Needless to say, I was in no hurry to release her after she told me what she'd do to me once I had.

But I think the real low point with the handcuffs came on the day when I managed to handcuff my wrist to my ankle.  (That's right, I did it!  You want some of this?!)  Anyway, I have no idea why I did it, but I'm sure it seemed like a good idea at the time.  What made matters worse was that I had lost the key.  Add to it that my father had the spare key, and he couldn't leave work.  So, barring leaving me incapacitated for hours until he got home, he did the next best thing.  He called the local police and asked them to send a squad car by the house.

Now, it wasn't my best moment to be laying on the floor by the front door, twisted like a pretzel, with my arm handcuffed to my ankle, in nothing but my underwear and no way to put clothes on (Oh, did I conveniently leave that part out?), and have the police show up to release me.  They managed the rescue in seconds, but I'm sure the story lived on for years at the station.  Maybe one of the officers will read this blog and have a good laugh recollecting the incident.

The Brown Coats

For Christmas the first three years of my marriage, my mother-in-law bought me a new brown coat.  Just brown...no other color.  Each coat was really nice, different and unique from the year before.  But imagine that I lived in Texas at the time where the need for coats is minimal.  I didn't exactly wear a coat out in the season.

On the fourth year, I asked for a different color just to jazz things up a little...maybe black or navy blue.  She quickly got the hint, and a family joke was started.  Every year, she threatened to send me a coat, while really sending me sweaters or such.

Last year, my brother-in-law got me a brown scarf for Christmas.  When I called to tell him how much I liked it, he told me he picked brown because he knew I already had a collection of brown coats.

Back-Fire

When I first got married, I didn't really do anything around the house.  If I wanted to do something special for my wife, then I'd surprise her by unloading the dishwasher before she got home.  For the first few times, she was very appreciative, and I was encouraged to do it again.  After a while, though, unloading the dishwasher just became my job.  I had to up my game.  So, I dusted for her one day.  She was ecstatic.  I was back!  After a few more dusts; however, dusting just became another of my jobs.  I went through laundry, trash, vacuuming, bathrooms...all with the same result.  Now, I have a whole list of "jobs" and no way to impress my wife.

I noticed we have entered an alternate reality, though, because now my wife comes home, plops herself on the couch to watch TV, and asks what's for dinner.  I see myself when I first got married, and I wonder how one little nice gesture back-fired on me.

Ageless

I’m sitting here today engaged in one of my favorite activities while at work, esp. when my project work is slow, as it is today. I’m gazing fondly at a picture of my wife. It was taken about seven years ago, just before we got married. The scene is my wife posing in front of a tropical garden area at a park in Houston, Texas. She has her sunglasses up on top of her head, holding her beautiful hair back, which cascades down over her shoulders in wavy, red-brown streams. You can see the rich browns in her eyes and a slight smile on her lips.

I enjoy gazing at the picture so much because it perfectly depicts the way I see my wife in my mind’s eye. She is just as beautiful and lovely today as she was seven years ago.

Okay, enough writing. I need to get back to looking at her picture...

Patriotism

A patriot is defined in Webster as “one who loves his or her country and supports its authority and interests.” In the United States, patriotism has become synonymous with “right, good, the man in the white hat.” So, is patriotism still an admirable characteristic if you support a country that is performing acts that aren’t admirable?

What if that country kills innocent people for monetary and power-hungry gains? What if that country invades another country purely for vengeance? What if that country bankrupts its people so it can give its governmental officials a raise and free healthcare? What if that country takes a great idea like Democracy and distorts it into a process of picking the lesser of two evils?

Just because you support that country, does it mean you’re right? I think Americans have confused what being a patriot really means. Think about it.

Millions of Englanders supported a monarchy that held the United States in a state of a repressed colony. A state which led Americans to revolt. Millions of Germans supported the Nazi movement of the 1940s. The same movement that started a world war that cost hundreds of thousands of American lives. Millions of people in Russia and Cuba supported Communist governments. The same governments that had Americans scrabbling in fear of a nuclear strike.

Obviously, there are patriots on both sides of any conflict. How can they both be right? Or is it just that the United States never makes mistakes and is therefore always right? Or perhaps it is only patriotism if you support the aims of the United States? If that’s the case, then Webster needs to update its definition.