Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Non Compos Mentis

The treasures of the heart are odd, funny-looking things. For instance, my stay-at-home children broke out into several fights and fits concerning my son's two Superman toothbrushes today.

I certainly have no bones to pick with the Man of Steel. Unlike many nerdy comic-book aficionados who think he's too perfect to identify with, I appreciate Kal-El's unwavering goodness and strength. But they're toothbrushes. We're not talking about their blankeys, their favorite toys, or - let's say - the Crown Jewels.

Toothbrushes.

I know it sounds as if I'm bashing the kids again - and of course I am - but I imagined the soundtrack of my life sounding more like Top Gun's than Barney's. At times, it's enough to make me a bit batty.

In all fairness, I can be quirkily particular myself:

  • I love my metal Staedtler pencil sharpeners and erasers. I am usually carrying one of each in my right pocket.

  • Books are people too.

  • Writing instruments are sweet. Think of the staggering promise of a wooden No. 2 pencil.

  • My pencil box is my pencil box - get your kindergarten, pie-grabbing hands off of it. (Yes, I have a pencil box. Though I haven't been able to find it in a fortnight. Back off, man, I'm a writer.)

  • When I have cash, it belongs - ordered from larger to smaller bills - face-up in my wallet.

  • I'm a sucker for cool high-tech gadgets. And all high-tech gadgets are cool.

  • I'm a sucker for what others tell me is cool. (It's like calling James Dean a chicken, only different.)

  • Just let me hold the remote. It pacifies me.

  • Give me Jif or give me death.

(For the unabridged list, see my wife.)

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