Now I Am the One Who Is "It"

This is not something I do regularly.

I'm not talking about updating my blog, but that certainly fits under this heading. So does pooping, for that matter. No, in this case I'm talking about responding to 'tags'.

This time I'm in something of a pickle. Unlike the Palinode, I was actually tagged. By Schmutzie, no less. Now, normally I would cheerfully ignore this kind of thing and vie for the coveted "Who is least likely to respond" title. But the good Schmutzie is read by tens of people daily, and surely to God I'm getting upwards of one hit as spin-off traffic -- especially as I'm the only one of the four with an honest to goodness name.

I really like Schmutzie. She's a good kid. And although the chance is small, I don't want her to come down from Cityland, or wherever the hell she lives, and kick my ass for not playing along. So read! Read like the wind! Fill your tiny brains with far too much information that does more to stereotype me than explain my behaviour! And don't forget to add your derisive comments -- I was made fun of by Dennis Hull in front of 700 people on Friday, I'm sure you can't do any worse.

Four-times-four books I've loved:
1984 by George Orwell
Ender's Game by Orsen Scott Card
Insomnia by Stephen King
The Dark Tower: The Gunslinger by Stephen King
It by Stephen King
Different Seasons by Stephen King
Comes the Darkness by Michael Prescott
Life, The Universe, and Everything by Douglas Adams
Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams
"Surely You're Joking Mr. Feynman!" by Richard Feynman
The Wars by Timothy Findley
Contact by Carl Sagan
Replay by Ken Grimwood
The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown
Life of Pi by Yann Martel
Breaking Smith's Quarter Horse by Paul St. Pierre

Four-and-sixteen movies I can watch over and over and wish to have in my DVD collection if you're thinking of buying me a gift:
Shakespeare in Love
Fight Club
Rattle and Hum
Goodfellas
Star Wars
Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back
Blade Runner
Dirty Dancing
Snatch
A Fish Called Wanda
The Matrix
The Silence of the Lambs
Memento
Reservoir Dogs
The Shawshank Redemption
Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan
When Harry Met Sally...
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Gattaca

Four movies I wish I'd walked out on:
Highlander II
3000 Miles to Graceland
Prospero's Books
My Own Private Idaho

The last two movies I didn't have the pleasure of being able to walk out on, as they were rentals. I did, however, have the pleasure of turning them off and playing Uno. I managed to watch My Own Private Idaho up to the part where Keanu is fighting in a warehouse while quoting Henry IV. I stopped Prospero's Books when all I'd seen during the first five minutes was a kid peeing in a swimming pool. He was on a trapeze. I am not making this up.

Please be aware that I am perfectly capable of playing Uno while having a movie on.

Four TV shows I love:
Seinfeld
Jeopardy!
Lost
The X Files

Four jobs I've had and quit:
Bartender: I used to bartend at the Royal Hotel in Moose Jaw in my younger days. It was a crazy time, and if I'd been a little bit older (my true age is about 75% of my chronological age, so at this point I would have been about 16) I think I would have really, really enjoyed myself, instead of just enjoying myself. It was good times, by and large, even when I was threatened by a biker and stalked by a crazy woman. I left to go to school, and, well, we all know how that turned out.

Coffee shop drone: my triumphant return to the workforce after leaving SEDA was at the hateful and villainous coffee shop. There's not much to report, really, aside from saying I liked the work but hated the environment. The shop's still open a year later, so things must be ticking along nicely. The owners also donated a little something to the KidSport breakfast, so I don't suppose there's any hard feelings. I left because I was passed over for a promotion from Drone to Drone Supervisor, and I felt I'd worked much too hard to be treated that way. I finished my shift and left the shop, telling the owners politely but firmly that this was unacceptable.

Ferdie, the guy who got the promotion, was fired for his incompetence a few months later. So, really, it all worked out in the end.

Car washer: I worked for a short time washing cars at Moose Jaw Ford. It was a good, honest job, and really, I didn't mind it. But the people I worked with were hard to get used to, and the guy I worked closely with was clearly, to borrow a phrase, batshit crazy. I eventually left this job to work at the Royal, which I left to go to school -- and we all know how that turned out.

Busboy: this was a job I had in high school, and one of the few jobs I really didn't care too much about. The pay was lousy, the people were lousy, the management was lousy, and the work was... well, typical for this sort of job. I just kind of decided one day that I wasn't working there anymore, and the restaurant gratefully agreed, not even phoning to check if I was coming in to my shifts. This is the way all quittings should be: some sort of secret signal, like a nod of the head or a finger placed beside your nose, and the tacit approval of management: "Sorry it didn't work out. Here's your T4."

Bonus Job - Telemarketer: it took me 23 minutes to figure out I didn't like telemarketing. There were ten of us sitting around a big table in a hotel boardroom, each with our own phone. We would draw a slip of paper out of a basket in the center of the table. Each slip had exactly one phone number on it, and this phone number was sometimes unlisted, which caused much consternation when we attempted (unsuccessfully) to market to this person by tele.

Looking back, the abuse I took during my one day on the phone is quite entertaining, but at the time it made the job enormously difficult. Which is good, because telemarketing is the lowest form of lowness, with the only exception of spam, which is lower still. I told the guys at the end of the day that I wasn't coming back, and although they told me I was good and used all kinds of tricks to get me to stay ("Telemarketers get hot women", etc.), I adamantly refused. Months later, I was issued a surprise paycheque for roughly $60, which I spent on comic books.

Four places I've called home:
Regina, SK
Saskatoon, SK
Moose Jaw, SK
There is no fourth place. I'm going to die within 100 miles of my birthplace, which will be still standing in spite of the weekly fires by wayward teens and continued promises of demolition.

Four places I've vacationed:
Disneyland
Vegas, baby
Winnipeg, MB
Karlsruhe, Germany

Four places I would rather be right now:
Greece
In bed
1 Infinite Loop, Cupertino, CA
The moon

Four sites I visit daily:
Defective Yeti
Cockeyed
Boing Boing
IMDb

Four people who I wish wrote blogs:
Jesus
Richard Feynman
Mark Twain
Jack Benny

(Note: all dead. Though I understand that Jesus will be coming back for the "Armageddon Tour" sometime in late 2012.)

Four foods I love:
French fries
Bacon
Soup
Grapes

Four people I am tagging:
No one. Not a frigging soul. But if you read this and feel the need to add it to your blog, notify me and I'll add your name to a list beneath this text, with a disclaimer that you're delusional and only "think" you've been tagged by me. Because let's face it: if you feel like filling one of these things out, you certainly don't need my encouragement.