A bunch of Facebook friends have tagged me on a survey in which they list 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about themselves. Recipients are asked to do the same. Never one to go with the crowd, here’s 25 random things I wish I could say about myself.

1. I completely respect and understand, and in no way think less of, Katie Bonk since she admitted to never having seen – or liking – Star Wars.

2. Matt McNaney stole my coding skills.

3. Before I make any major decision in life, I always ask myself, what would Chris Cannady do? (It’s never steered me wrong!)

4. I have never been jealous of Crispin Boyer and his, uh, “job” straight out of college – playing video games. Then writing about playing video games. For money. In Chicago. Near the United Center. During the Jordan era. What’s to envy?

5. Jay Jordan stole my dance moves.

6. I have plenty of time each day to accomplish everything I want to do. Just today I taught Gabby how to read, practiced a slant route with Gavin, got all the laundry done and read two books, all before lunch.

7. Adam Lindsay stole my three-point shot.

8. I never once … even for a sec .. desired attending any college other than Appalachian. Especially not any “blue” ones. Never. (I was just joking. Seriously. I was.)

9. Simon Cowell once complimented my singing.

10. I never associate Marla Rock with doughnuts.

11. Jeff Braun stole my fashion sense. (I never should have left my closet unlocked)

12. Trish Kemerly treasures the days she was my boss. I was a model employee.

13. Marie Freeman stole my shooter’s eye.

14. My tears can cure cancer. Too bad I never cry.

15. I’ve always been jealous of the birthday parties Carleen Talty Dender’s mother threw for her.

16. Greg Nazario stole my banana-pancake recipe.

17. I bankrupted the open bar at Christie and Brandon’s wedding.

18. I made good use of that guitar I once bought.

19. My Panther PSLs are on the 50, mid-lower level, but I spend most of my time in the box suite.

20. I once survived a torrid love affair with Jodie Foster. I refer to it as “the Lost Weekend in Rio.”

21. I taught Jared Everett how to grill.

22. My wife appreciates it when I repeatedly correct her grammer. (Remember, it’s “Rob and I,” not “me and Rob”). Not once has she ever smacked me.

23. My brother Johnathan stole my golf swing.

24. Alan McNeil stole my taste in music.

25. I am NOT addicted to the internet. Nope. Can stop browsing any time. … (Just, uh, give me five more minutes, okay?)

Taken by her Bonkishness, at the recent App game

I enjoy the occasional beer. Usually I partake during football season, and only because I *really* enjoy some Cottonwood Pumpkin Ale. And given that the latter is only available during the former, it’s karma, really. I don’t overindulge. I don’t chug. I don’t get, as the kids say, bombed. I just enjoy a good beer.

Well, I did.

Yesterday my preacher – a devoted man of Christ who Baptized me one year ago today – gave a sermon on his role of being a watchman. He quoted from Ezekiel, chapter 33.

8: When I say unto the wicked, O wicked man, thou shalt surely die; if thou dost not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand.
9: Nevertheless, if thou warn the wicked of his way to turn from it; if he do not turn from his way, he shall die in his iniquity; but thou hast delivered thy soul.

As our watchman, our preacher said it was his job to tell us when a sin was a sin. He stepped down and said, as his first example -”Drinking beer is a sin.”

Uh-oh.

Now, I am no Biblical scholar, but my interpretation was always that the sin was in overindulging, not in piddling. Enjoying the occasional brew was no different that a soft drink or coffee. The sin is in allowing that vice to become your idol. But my preacher was in no mood for splitting hairs, or cases. No beer. (Or smoking or over eating ill food. Yes, he had a brief list).

I felt chagrined, but confident in my interpretation. Not everyone agrees with their preacher on all things, right? (I’m looking at you Obama).

But then something rather unusual happened. I’ve been attending this church for close to five years. I was married there. I was baptized there. My children are being raised there. I love being there. But something happened that has never occurred before.

After the preacher concluded his alter call and no one had a word, he looked to me and said, “Rob, will you close us in prayer?”

Me? ME??? The occasional beer drinker??? ME???

Close I did. Uncomfortable I was not. I pray often, though not in public, and this was most definitely a first. But why was I called? Why me? Then?

*SIGH* (And yes, I know this is an inappropriate reaction)

Most mornings lately I eat a PBJ for breakfast at work. Saves money, and fills my tummy.

This morning I was walking down the hall carrying my jelly back to the frig in the kitchen when I passed the office secretary. She’s a sweet old lady who said nonchalantly “It’s jelly time I see.” To which I responded,

“Peanut butter jelly time! Peanut butter jelly time!”

Sometimes I really hate myself.

I am buried by work this week. It’s one thing to prepare for what you know is coming up, something else entirely for what you hope is coming up. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, well click here.

I’ve got bloggy ideas bouncing around this empty head of mine, but no time to shoot them out my nose. The wife is working evening shifts, Gabby continually becomes more fun everyday, and lately I’m a math tutor for the preteen. (We’re working on scale factors this week.)

So as a bookmark please enjoy this slideshow of Holiday Panic, 64 photos of jolly ‘ol Saint Nick scaring the bejeezus out of lil kids. Actually, the sight of some of these Santas make me want to start crying. Do they not drug test at the North Pole?

By the way, the photo up top is of Gabby’s first visit with Santa. It was a spontaneous event on Christmas Eve, and we had no camera. A friend took a shot with her camera phone and swore we could get regular prints made. She was wrong.

Still, it’s a pretty photo, if you have a magnifying glass handy.

As promised, my part-time gig has been released on the internet. So since Christie – and, actually, only Christie* – requested it, here’s a link. Click on the third station down (MIX) between the hours of 6 and 8:30 a.m. That’s when I assault the airwaves.

As yes, I will take requests.

(* you’re gonna have to get up early … reallllyyy early)

- Somehow, someway the new Spider-Man trailer leaked onto the Internet. Man oh man oh man …

- Ric Flair and the Stanley Cup Champion Hurricanes … Woooooooooooooooo.

- Photos of Steve Smith don’t get too much sweeter than this.

- My favorite mistress of the fall has returned! Shhhhh! I hope to get a peice this weekend.

- The photo with this post. Gabby loves her hats and cats!

During my recent flight to Vegas, while high above the clouds, my mind wandered. I looked up and down the ailse, surveyed the peeps around me and tracked the whereabouts of the flight crew. I then glanced at my lovely wife and pondered, “I wonder how difficult it’d be for us to make it in the bathroom.”

Of course, such a thought was doomed to failure. There was a hyper-active toddler to watch, plus a bored preteen who would never tolerate a prolonged absence without a game of 20 questions (example – Rob, why is your arm blue?).

I sighed the sigh of unpleasant realization. The door to the Mile High Club was closed to me, perhaps forever. To prevent my suddenly assuming an uncomfortable, upright position, I began to ponder – is there any club out there for me?

For example, baseball has all kinds of clubs. There’s the “500 Career Home Run Club,” the “30 Homer, 100 RBI Club” and “Home Run Hitters Supeoned by Congress Club.” Last season Alfonso Soriano started his own club, called the “40/40/40 Club.” I’d be lucky to record those numbers playing “Major League Baseball 2K6,” much less in attempting a real-life remake of The Rookie (which itself was a remake of real life played out like a movie).

Besides, I’m not in MLB, or any other sports acronym. Like the airplane potty, entry is denied me. Too old. Too slow. And about as athletic as a blind bowler with no thumbs and a limp.

There has to be some club which recognizes my special skills and abilities, or honors the obstacles I’ve met and overcome. I wonder what they could be:

The “80 Hour” Club
During the summer sandwiched between my first two college years, I got less rest than Sisyphus. Monday through Friday I rose like Lestat at 6:15ish and headed to my full-time job as a temp at the local Maidenform factory. (Yes, that Maidenform. Stop giggling. It taught me a lot. I had no idea the difference between an A and a C. I also thought that referred to shape). At 4 p.m. I departed that factory and reported to duty asap at Food Lion, where I also put in a minimum or 40 hours a week. I would stock shelves until 2 a.m., then went home for a less-then-four hour “lunch” before heading back to bra land.

I had two breaks a week – Wednesday evenings and all-day Sunday. Otherwise, I was either on a clock or waiting for one to ring. I did this for three months. I survived via Mountain Dew. I drank a six-pack a day. I was forced to quit cold turkey when this one nerve in my eye would not stop jumping. It looked like I had a umping bean under my brow. Went over real well with the ladies.

Pro Sports Grand Slam Club
At first this doesn’t sound very impressive, but you have to understand the context. Within a few months time I scored seats for four pro team events. I was in Atlanta for Braves-Cubs, Charlotte for Panthers-Cowboys, Charlotte for my dear departed Hornets-Knicks, and Greensboro for Hurricanes-Sabres. Now here’s the impressive part – I went to three of the four free. Now that is talent!

20-15 at 33 Club
I’m hitting my mid-30s with eyes sharper than Michael Jordan’s fashion sense. I’m the only person in my office with no need for nose wear or tiny clear dishes in my eyes. I read magazine in the dark and stare at computer screens all day, every day. I’m confident I could soak both eyes in tuna juice and spend four hours sleeping at a cat shelter, then walk out into a thin fog and spot Calista Flockhart in camouflage from 300 yards out. Now if only I wasn’t colorblind.

Iron Stomach Club
It has been well established that I can devour and keep down about anything. My favorite drink as a child was milk mixed with Pepsi (Thank you Laverne). I’ve put down – in one sitting – 24 Jamaican scorching squared wings and live to tell about my tail the next day. There is nothing I will not eat (except country style steak, my kryptonite).

I put the tummy to the test during our honeymoon in Cancun. Anyone who has ever enjoyed time at a Mexican resort knows the one rule which all tourists must abide – NO NOT eat the local food. It does to bowels what Ron Artest does to rap. Well, I love a challenge. My new wife and I visited an open-air restaurant. It had a tree holding up its roof and bathrooms bleach-free since 1964. Against her better judgement, I ordered three tacos. Best. Food. I. Ate. That. Week. My wife then knew she had married a real man (until, of course, she found my Star Trek VHS collection).

The Unbroken Club
I have never broken a bone. Never*. Even after repeated runs at Appalachian Ski Mountain and countless childhood games of Smear the Queer, I’m untouched by a cast, much less a sling. There are days I do tempt my wife to test that membership, but I’m pretty sure this club is as exclusive as Augusta, only without drab jackets.

* This isn’t entirely true. I did once break my sister’s collabone. It was a complete accident. It involves a shooping cart, paper towels and a whole lot of vomitting.

Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon Club
I once had the pleasure of interviewing Gregg Edelman for television. Thus, I have appeared with him on camera. I’m degree No. 1. He’s No. 2. So you know how the game goes -
Gregg Edelman appeared in Spider-Man 2 with Tobey Maguire.

Tobey Maguire appeared in Pleasantville with Don Knotts.

Don Knotts was in The Private Eyes with Irwin Keyes.

Irwin Keyes was in Friday the 13th with the one, the only, Kevin Bacon.

It’s like we’ve known each other our whole lives!

A Margarita in the Gap Club
I miss New Orleans, the only city I’ve ever visited with a bar inside it’s mall offering $1 Jagermeister shots and margaritas for two bucks. Of course, we had to stop at the Gap – just to drink. One step in. Gulp. Gulp. Back out. It’s a pretty unique club.

What kind of clubs are you in?

I’ve been tagged by her Bonkishness. The ensuing cooty rash refuses to clear up, so I relent and answer 10 questions only a bookworm would love. Thus:

1) One book that changed your life:
The Amazing Spider-Man Issue No. 251. Yeah, I know this is stretching the definition of book more than the Miami Dolphins stretch the definition of competitive football team. But this is one of the first – if not the first – comic book I ever read. It stirred a craving for all things begat by Stan Lee. It also did to my vocabulary what BALCO did to Bonds. I distinctly remember learning the words “omniscient” and “omnipotent” from Marvel.

If that answer is too flaky, then I hearby submit the Sweet Pickles book, “Some Friend.” I haven’t read it in more than 20 years but I remember well the plot. Worried Walrus heads over to see Loving Lion to ask a favor. During his trek he worries continuously that Lion will not grant him his request. By the time he gets to the door, he has convinced himself she will say no. He knocks. She answers. Before she can even say hello, he basically curses her and stomps off.

I remember feeling so bad for Loving Lion, who did nothing but greet a friend and got verbally accosted. That story has always stuck with me whenever I find myself becoming Worried Walrus (or treated like Loving Lion).

I could go on, but won’t other than to mention recent reads “An Army at Dawn” and “What If.” They both added great perspectives for me with regard to what is happening in Iraq.

2) One book that you read more than once:
I’ve read several more than once. Stephen King’s “Tommyknockers” comes to mind. Also Tom Clancy’s “Clear and Present Danger.” And all the Harry Potter books.

3) One book you’d want on a deserted island:
Easy – “Boatbuilding: A Complete Handbook of Wooden Boat Construction.”

4) One book that made you laugh:
Al Franken’s “Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot.” And I say this as a Dittohead since 1993. I’ve read this book at least twice, and each time I laugh myself silly. The Al Demato-SNL skit conversation is awesome! “I’m a people person!”

5) One book that made you cry:
Do audiobooks count? If so, Mitch Album’s “Tuesdays with Morrie.” The fact that Mitch does the reading adds an emotional jab.

6) One book you wish you’d written:
Any Star Trek book written by Peter David. Specifically “Vendetta.”

7) One book you wish had never been written:
Or more honestly asked – Any book I hated so much I wish the author was waterboarded. While I wouldn’t go quite that far, John Grisham’s “The Chamber” had among the worst endings I’ve encountered. He spends hundreds of pages building up to a potential conflict that, at the end, is just swept away like tailgate trash. I immediately imagined a hasty editor screaming on the phone, “Screw the big bang. We need the book to the printer’s NOW. Initial shooting for the movie is next week, your book tour stars Tuesday, and you’re already two tomes behind our agreed upon contract. So put an F’n period on it NOW!”

8 ) One book you’re currently reading:
None, I’m sad to say. I go through bouts when I become a crazed reader seeking another 400-age hit, then just as quickly I slip into a No-New-Tome period. I’m in the latter now.

9) One book you’ve been meaning to read:
Too many to count. I do have on my holiday wish list a book Instapundit recommended many moons ago – “Weapons of Choice (The Axis of Time Trilogy, Book 1).” I had it on my wish list last year, but the wife got me this instead. (And yes, that book ROCKED!)

10) Tag five people:
Blue Ridge, Gnumoon, and Lockwoods, the vactioning Southern Suburbia and the all-mighty Instapundit.

- Life in Boone this very second, brought to you by Booneweb.com. A great day for football. Our stadium is to the far left. At about 12:30 p.m. I’ll wave from the parking lot. I’ll have the Bud Light in one hand and brat in the other (food, not Gabby).

- I’m not sure why, but I really like this photo. It just captures something special, either the pain of being forced to shop there, or the protests of being forced to leave. It’s taken by the proud parents behind Sweet Juniper.

- My mom dared send me this link. She must be trying to tell me something.

- In my free time (hehe … that’s hard to type with a straight face) I help contribute to a great blog called The Best of You Tube. This week I found a really old trailer for The Empire Strikes Back. It’s advertised as being voiced by Harrison Ford, but I just don’t know. Go check it out and tell me what you think.

- James Lileks is one of my favorite writers, able to blend humor and perspective like gin and tonic. Today he remarks on a TV trend that’s always bothered me. He uses Star Trek:Deep Space Nine as an example:

The commercial break forced a peculiar demand on drama, which was eventually institutionalized into the medium and accepted by those of us who grew up expect TV dramas to have four acts – and, if the show starred Efram Zimbalist the Latter, an Epilogue. Now shows cut out much quicker, and we don’t notice because we expect the breaks. The sudden urgent surge just means we reach for the remote to FF through the spots. Imagine Shakespeare if every scene ended after 640 seconds with the understanding that the audience would leave the Globe en masse, and might not return unless you’d left them depending from tenterhooks.

How true. He goes on to note that watching certain TV shows on DVD is now much more satisfying than watching live on the small screen. His LOST analogy is dead-on, and why as much as I look forward to the show, I hate ABC.

Fifteen years ago last week I began a new stage in life – college. I was a freshman, as oblivious of my future as Maurice Clarett. Sometime during that year of missteps, lessons and late-night Spades, I managed to snap a photo of “my side” of the dorm room.

Looking at it now, I notice various odds and ends. I wonder if you notice them too. So, in keeping with the theme of college life, let’s take a quiz! See what you can find! (And yes, I resisted the urge to stick Waldo in there somewhere).

You can find a larger version of the photo here. See if you can:

1. Guess the college which I attended.

2. Find references to at least three NBA teams.

3. Find the late ’80s/early 90s pop idol.

4. Find a poster based on a popular adult beverage commercial.

5. Find at least two momentos from high school.

6. How many bare knees are visible in this room?

7. What is the ratio of family photos to athletes?

8. How many milk crates are there?

9. How many newspaper clippings are on the wall?

10. Name one item which is obsolete in most dorms today.

11. Name one item which shouldn’t be in any dorm room, empty or otherwise. Hint – younger siblings always point this out to mom.

12. See a blue puppy?

13. Guess the one item which foreshadowed a future occupation.

14. Guess which one item I still own and use.

Answers after the jump.

1. Guess the college I attended.
Appalachian State, baby. I wish I still had that flag. The university retired that Yosef logo years ago.

2. Find references to at least three NBA teams.
Chicago Bulls, Charlotte Hornets and Philadeplhia 76ers. New York Knicks would also be acceptable, since that is upon whom His Airness is dunking. The partially hidden black-and-white Jordan poster is from his Carolina days. He’s dunking with the late Len Bias looking on behind him. I also wish I still had that.

3. Find the ’80s pop idol and guess the album promoted.
Paula Abdul. It’s a promotional poster for her classic Spellbound, which ended her career, really. The album featured The Promise of a New Day, which In Living Color perfectly re-dubbed Promise of a Thin Me. She never really was taken seriously after that, until this occurred. And no, I can’t recollect how or why I had that poster. But I did have that tape. And still do. I love me some Vibeology.

4. Find a poster based on a popular adult beverage commercial.
The Budweiser poster, with three women blending in with a Budweiser towel. Back in high school when I ran for band president, I used that poster for campaign material. I hung it on the wall in the band room. The band director made me cover the .. um … more eye-catching aspects with a sign that said “Vote for Rob.” It still worked. I won.

5. Find at least two momentos from high school.
There are several. There’s a South View mug on the desk with my high school seal on one side and the names of all my fellow 1991 graduates on the other. There’s a small music trophy on the shelf. It was from my senior year in band. There’s also a framed poster of my high school marching band on the side of my desk. The framed “DB” represents my roommate’s prep alma mater – and my high school’s biggest rival – Douglas Byrd.

6. How many bare knees can you find?
Six. (Two on the dunking bball player on the closet, two on Kathy “Hello Nurse!” Ireland above the closet, one unbraced on Jordan, and one poking out from the Budweiser poster). That’s a lot of knees.

7. What is the ratio of family photos to athletes?
1 to 2. The nurse is my roommates’ mom. Beside her is a smaller photo of my mom and sisters. The much more prominent athletes are Jordan (twice), Barkley, and an Appalachian dunker. In hindsight, that seems so wrong.

8. How many milk crates are there?
Three. And yes, the Carolina blue one did specifically state it was illegal to be used for anything other than transporting milk. I was such a rebel.

9. How many newspaper clippings are on the wall?
At least eight. Two of them are columns by Lewis Grizzard, aka the redneck Dave Berry. With no Grizzard, Far Side or Calvin, I wonder how many of today’s students have any reason to favor portions of a newspaper, much less decorate a wall with them.

10. Name one item now obsolete in most dorm rooms.
The dual cassette player, which also had a built-in radio and record player. So many memories. As a teen at home I had it on the floor under the television. The speakers were placed in front facing each other, separated by less than a foot and a head – mine. It served as headphones for the lazy. Many days my mom would find me asleep on the floor in their loud embrace. Good times.

11. Name one item which is common in some dorm rooms today.
The Bacardi bottle, which is pictured full of change. I actually didn’t drink from it. At least, I don’t remember doing so. Yet why does remembering its scent suddenly make me ill? Ugh. I still own a similar Bacardi bottle from college which serves a similar monetary collection function on my dresser. It’s from my sophomore year, and I do indeed remember drinking from it. Better times.

12. See a blue puppy?
He’s hiding in the mug. Another momento from high school, it was given to me as a band superlative. Most Friendlist, if I remember correctly. I still have him downstairs in the basement.

13. Guess the one item which foreshadowed a future occupation.
The plastic fireman’s hat. It was my roommate’s. I’m at a loss to remember from whence it came. Fifteen years later he’s a volunteer fireman in the Raleigh area. I’ll have to ask him if he still wears it.

14. Guess one item I still own and use.
The white cubed alarm clock. It sits in my bedroom to this day. I was surprised to see it in this photo, given that it still wakes me up most days. Actually, I still have a few items – the cassette tape case, the barely visible Snickers tin which held more tapes, the small music trophy and that framed photo of family.

Now that I think about it, all those posters and flags are long gone, but I still have that framed photo. And that’s how it should be.