Skip to main content

I'm Not Anti-Social



So apparently I'm anti-social, according to friends. Personally, I don't think I'm anti-social. It's not like every time a stranger comes to my door I freak out. Shutter all the windows, jettison the cat out in an escape pod. Lock myself away in my panic room, curl up in the fettle position, and cry for an hour and a half while listening to the soundtrack to Evita. No, I don't do that, not at all. Seriously, I'm not anti-social. Saying that I'm anti-social would make it sound as if a simple task like going to the grocery store would fill me with dread and horror.

I mean, sure, when I do go grocery shopping I get a little overwhelmed by the people, and the fact that there's a giant glowing orb in the sky. Perhaps it's also true that when I reach the frozen foods, I have to face dive into bags of frozen peas just to compensate with all that is going on. By time I've reached the check out, I'm breathing into a paper bag and demanding that no one look at me. Sure, I do all that, but who doesn't!? I'm not anti-social.

I leave the house, I go do things. I enjoy going out on dates. I've had many a fine night out with a lovely lass. I might insist that she sit at another table across the room, and only talk to me via Skype. I might also wear a hazmat suit, and insist she coat herself in Purell, as we all know human beings are filthy germ vessels. But that's just being cautious. I'm not anti-social.

I throw parties for Pete's sake! I love having people over. Would an anti-social person Martha Stewart up the place? I think not! Let me tell you what it's like when I have people over. First I send the invites out over Facebook, we all known paper can't be trusted. I make a panic inducing trip to the grocery, and then I come home and start prepping food for my guests. Once that is done, I go and scrub myself in the shower with a brick, and a bar of Lava.

My guests all arrive in the same manner, and enter my home through my short hall. Thankfully, my hall doubles as an ionic purification chamber, everyone just thinks those blue tubes in the ceiling are black-lights. After that, everyone meets me in the living room, where we drink the Kool Aid. Dinner is next, followed by smashing the plates in the fireplace. I just don't trust that my dishwasher will actually get things “clean”.

After dinner we all head outside, where I had the ground replaced with hand washable Astroturf. We play games, Twister, dance to a few records, and mostly try not to make actual human contact with one another. We have a great time, and everyone leaves a little less germy than they arrived. I then hose down my entire home with Clorox, and call it a night. See, I'm not anti-social. I'm not. Seriously.

I have no idea where people get the idea that I am this anti-social hermit who is horrified by the very thought of walking around on the Earth. I'm sure after I've laid it all out here, you too agree with me that I am not anti-social. Now if you'll pardon me, I'm going to go get my flashlight and see if I can see where the cat's escape pod landed.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Convincing Yourself You're Good.

I have Imposter Syndrome. Imposter Syndrome is that feeling that what you do isn't good enough, and that someone is gonna eventually figure out how woefully unqualified you are and kick you to the curb. One of the traits of my personality that I dislike is that I am way too hard on myself. Seriously, give my mind an inch and I will somehow figure out that I am the sole person responsible for the world's troubles.

Having Imposter Syndrome is kind of like playing the game Werewolf. My friends and I play a version of the game called One Night Ultimate Werewolf, in the game each player picks a card that gives them a specific role, either a villager or a werewolf, and the villagers all have distinct roles that they play on top of that--special abilities and the like. The object of the game is two fold, if you're a werewolf, you don't wanna be caught. If you're a village, you wanna catch the werewolves. Imposter Syndrome makes you feel like you're always in the role…

Where The Blues Are

I come to you again this week with another pair of blu-rays from those master celluloid handlers at Warner Archive. First up we have 1960’s “Where The Boys Are,” a defining teen picture of the era by MGM, and the film largely responsible for kicking off the whole cycle of 1960s beach films. The other is 1955’s “Pete Kelly’s Blues” a film starring, produced, and directed by Jack Webb--TV’s Joe Friday. Part of a deal Webb had made with Warner Brothers when he was setting up the original big screen version of “Dragnet” in the ‘50s. 
“Where The Boys Are” was set for the screen before the book it was based on had been released. Producer Joe Pasternak snatched up the rights to the book by Glendon Swarthout, which was originally titled “Unholy Spring.” Pasternak, strongly feeling “Where The Boys Are” would be the better title, persuaded Swarthout to change the book’s title. Pasternak also felt he could use the film as a starring vehicle for one of the stars of MGM’s record label, Connie Franc…

Twelve-Nine-Three

Picture it! Scilly, 1922! OK, actually Andy Ross’s Childhood Bedroom 1993. I had been given as a gift the dream attachment for my beloved Sega Genesis, the amazing Sega CD. For those of you young children who have only grown up in the era of XBox and Playstation, it may seem strange that there was once a time when the idea of playing a video game off of a compact disc was mind blowing. But it was, and I was fully ready to have my mind blown. To use a slogan of Sega’s ads of the era, I was ready to enter “The Next Level.”

The Sega CD model I had was the second one, the smaller model designed to go with the slimmer Genesis that had been introduced to the market. I had the first Genesis, the larger one, but the Sega CD came with an extension block that allowed it to partner it on the original model. You attached the Sega CD to your Genesis by a special connector on the side of system. The Sega CD came with a game to get you going, as was the norm with gaming systems at the time. The game …