Aria "Happy" Nao

Once again, not very inventive on the titles lately.

So, I had a strange duo of occurrences last week in the same day, both calling my character into question and both via the ubiquitous and life-changing facebook:

A) The facebook has an application one can add called the "Honesty Box," which I added onto my profile for amusement purposes. It is what it sounds like: a person may place a message into your "Honesty Box" anonymously, thus freeing them of inhibitions or consequences associated with telling you things in person. The user has only a gender and a list of people who use the "Honesty Box" to go on to figure out who may have placed a given message. The user may also prompt a specific question to be honest about, such as "What do you think of my blog?" (to which I was cryptically responded "noticeably ostentatious.") As of now, it is set to the default "What do you honestly think of me?"

So, this week I received a note from a female stating the following, verbatim:

"You don't seem like a very happy person."

Um...

So, I responded (which the "Honesty Box" allows you to do to the anonymous party):

"Well, I just got out of a relationship. Little on the lonely side. Other than that, things are looking up lately. Thanks for your concern."

It's not the comment that I mind so much, it's:

1) That I'm ostensibly unhappy

2) The fact that such an innocent comment, that I'm completely able to deal with and have dialogue about, is not able to be delivered personally.

So, I'm grumpy and unapproachable. No wonder you can't say it to my face.

Which brings me to:

B) A friend wrote this note on my facebook wall the very same day:

"I was minding my own business today when all of the sudden I heard 'Yeah, I don't really care for Mike P*****.' I laughed a little inside and then I felt sorry for you. Just thought you should know..."

Um...

This friend is the type of friend who would say that sort of thing for a laugh, so I sloughed it off at first. But after I coupled it with the previous "Honesty Box" fiasco, I had to call her.

I was told that this, indeed, had happened. She was sitting in the hall at my old alma mater reading, when within a room she heard the aforementioned quote. It was a male speaking to another male, and the other male quickly changed the subject.

How I wish he hadn't...perhaps the perpetrator would have revealed himself. So, not only am I:

1) Grumpy

2) Unapproachable

BUT:

3) DISLIKED.

And, at my old school no less. Where, mind you, I was once the KOT. Once...long ago...a whole year and a half ago...

I think I've made a concerted effort over the years to be funny, jovial, adept at conversation, with the ultimate goal of being WELL-liked. But now it seems that I have achieved mostly the opposites of those goals (if my female dealings of late are any example). See the characteristics above for reference.

Though...

There is something amusing about being disliked. The very idea that if my name came up, at least one person would immediately reply "I don't really care for him," is pleasurable in an inverse sort of way. There's really no in-between there. To that person, I am how I would describe an unsavory vegetable: "I don't much care for peas."

In the same way, "You don't seem like a very happy person" must have been conceived through a series of meetings with me. I must have been a real asshole. And everyone knows that someone who treats people in an asshole-ish manner is really working something out about themselves that they don't like, so I must be unhappy.

It's all very...flattering really.

These are seemingly simple statements about me, but there's a littany of judgment passage that goes into them. In essence, I've been thought over in a very detailed way to come to these conclusions. I'm starting to think that maybe it's better than saying "Oh, Mike? Yeah, he's cool," or my absolute least favorite: "He's nice."

"Nice" people don't do anything for anybody save the opportunity for practicing small-talk...

...to use on other "nice" people.

So goddammit, I'm honestly pleased that I'm still occupying a place in a few people's minds. And no, I'm not reveling in being berated. It hurts a little when people clue you into your faults. Especially if you don't know who they are.

But it's about damn time I'm the asshole. I'm the "nice" guy to most people already.

Preach on, facebook. Identity be damned.

(P.S. Peep my madd outlining 5k1llz!!!)

"Whittlin'" Willie Simpkins, Master of Ceremonies and Retired Cartographer

Sometimes I just enjoy creating nicknames for nonexistent people.  Really makes you wish there was such a person, eh?  

I'm supposed to be memorizing lines right now, per the n.u.f.a.n. ensemble 7 plays in 7 days festival this monday that I was randomly roped into.  But I'm much more amused by my new, quasi-newsprint-but-not-html-savvy-enough-to-make-it-look-like-newsprint blog.  Ta-dah.

Because I must temper my newfound enthusiasm for browser-embedded text-editing with the knowledge of awake-ness in the short term, I will make this inaugural posting brief, yet dutifully poignant.

I cannot be the only sports news savvy web trawler to be fascinated by the overwhelming news of ethics these days in sports.  The ongoing persona-non-grata Barry Bonds, the boorish Michael Vick, Pacman Jones and Tank Johnson (both nicknames strangely reminiscent of Atari 2600), 'Roids in Golf, and the breaking NBA referee betting scandal are all wonderful news to the avid sports fan.  My question is: Has it always been like this?  I don't think that in the sixties Arnold Palmer was juicing to drive five-hundred yards whilst tutoring a litter of pit bulls and stockpiling assault rifles.  Or maybe he was.  Maybe the news media was giving him the ol' Roosevelt treatment because of his status as reigning golf demigod.  Granted my choice of athlete is a bit silly, but even his contemporaries' issues (Wilt Chamberlain, Dick Butkus) never ranged beyond the basic verbal gaffe or sexual indiscretion.  It makes me wonder what we'd be able to know if our current Internet media capabilities were applied to that time, or previous eras.  God help me if I knew more about Babe Ruth or Johnny Weissmuller.

Whatever the hypotheticals, I need to focus on what makes sports, well, sports.  I'm watching these men (or ladies...I find women's basketball mildly entertaining) not as a moral Miss America, but because I want to be entertained by the game.  I must admit, to this point (sans Barry) I find a lot of the ethical stuff just as entertaining.  It's only when the "good" guys screw up, the Rafael Palmieros whom you'd think would never sully the sport, that the fleeting gossip fun ends.  It's fun to give a Nelson "Ha Ha!" to the guys you already hate, but it breaks your heart to see how deep the ethics issue in sports truly runs.