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As I write today’s dispatch to the web a few things occur to me.
As of this writing, today is December 8th. It’s the 343rd day of the year, which means I’m composing blog number 344. To this point, I’m not familiar with anytime during this year where my efforts to produce a daily post resulted in a duplication of previous material.
Ladies and gentlemen, it nearly happened today.
Talk about dodging a bullet.
Icebreaker exercises in a conference room have no valid justification for viable survival in my life. Many years ago, I attended a course on facilitating meetings. The trainer/facilitator of that particular course opted to use such an abomination in order to help us all learn each other’s names. As such, we had to come up with a term that rhymed with our respective names and apply it to ourselves. This exercise would serve as a mnemonic device for everyone in the room to remember our name for the duration of the course.
Excuse me for being short sighted and all, but I can generally think of one thing that rhymes with “Randy” and that’s candy. It’s pretty obvious that I’ve had my share of candy, and I would rather not point that out to others, dagnabbit.
One of the other icebreaker exercises I’ve participated in is Two Truths & A Lie. In this game, you go around the table, and you utter stuff about yourself that may or may not be true. The rest of the group has to determine which of the tidbits you’ve offered up is pure unadulterated bullshit. I have a standard set of three that I always use:
1. I grew up in Wyoming
2. I once created a Crasher Squirrel inspired crop circle in a cotton field out in west Texas
3. I once sold hardware to Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top
Either dazzle them with brilliance or baffle them with bull.
That brings us to the third of my encounters with celebrity during the late 80’s.
A few days ago when I started writing this blessed trilogy about the goings on in my life all of those years ago, I had it in mind that I would cap it off with my story about Billy Gibbons.
I nearly wrote it this morning too. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that I had an inkling that I may have discussed the subject matter here before. It turns out that I had not only made a passing mention to the event, but I had posted an entire blog about it. Sure it was 334 blogs ago when the premise of Letters From The Past was a bold and ambitious goal which had never crossed my mind that I would actually make it happen.
She’s Got Legs & Hammers was the blog, and it posted on January 10th of this year.
So let’s recap the celebrity encounters:
1. Georgia Satellites drummer gives me a dirty look
2. Jerry Reed’s bodyguards put me on the ground under the assumption I’m some sort of threat
3. I once sold hardware to Billy Gibbons
To the conscious which doesn’t reside in my skull, it would seem that each of these stories have a certain level of obscurity which come off as viable in their own little way.
Kinda.
Whether you opt to call “Bullshit” on any of them is purely up to you.
