Sober Games

Drinking games are interesting, it's like someone said "Let's invent a game that gets more and more difficult the longer you play it. Winning a drinking game is kind of like winning an eating contest because people are equal parts impressed while also thinking "This person has a problem." Do you like games, but hate drinking? Here are the top 10 drinking games guaranteed to keep your blood alcohol level at the same percent of the chance you have at scoring a date with Taylor Swift.

Every time you go to have a movie night with your family and everyone unanimously agrees on the first suggestion that is thrown out there

Every time an NFL analyst mentions the words "Playoffs" and "New York Jets" in the same sentence while also keeping an optimistic tone of voice

Every time you are having a political or social issues discussion  and someone says either "You know? I'm not 100 percent knowledgeable on the topic, so let me do some research and get back to you before I just start flapping off at the mouth" or "That's a good point. I've never looked at it that way before."

Watch a nationally televised spelling bee and every time they give a contestant a word and you think to yourself "I'm going to try to work that word into my daily conversations with people."

Watch an episode of "UFC Unleashed" and every time Mike Goldberg blinks, do a shot.

Watch an episode of "The Big Bang Theory" and every time you laugh, do a shot.

Listen to a country music radio station and every time a song DOES NOT mention a spouse or loved one leaving them, a dog dying or drinking a beer.......drink a beer

Listen to a rap music radio station and every time a song has no mention of alcohol consumption, violence and enunciates the "g" on a word with the suffix -ing, do a shot.

Watch an NHL game being called by Mike "Doc" Emerick and every time he gets through a play without wayyy overreacting to a shot that wasn't even that close or a hit that wasn't even that bad or using the word "swaggers", drink a Molson.

Watch a basketball game and do a shot every time the players get to a whistle without everyone's shoes sounding like an old car not braking in time to avoid crushing a bunch of baby birds

Five Dolla Guy

The key to doing something nice for someone is not then going and bragging about it, so I apologize in advance.

Yesterday I walked into Dunkin Donuts and some of the employees were counting up money in the tip jar and one of them said "tips were terrible today, this is like 5 dollars short of our usual." 

So I gave them a $5 and said "you guys do a great job."

I go in today and the girl behind the counter goes "Hey! It's 5 dollar guy!"

Can we all agree 5 Dollar Guy would be the name of the least successful rapper of all time?

Be on the lookout for my first two singles to drop "Riding Down the Street in my CR-V" and "I Grew Up in a Nice Home with Parents Who Loved and Supported Me"

I'm on my way people!

Market Basket Case Study

I'd like to tell you two stories that are very similar and yet worlds apart. One is a tale of triumph, the other a tale of painful self-awareness. While the series of events are comparable in chronology, they left me, and will likely leave the reader feeling very different.

Up first we have the story of a handsome young man and his steadily aging father. I was a junior in high school, it was a bright, sunny day just like any other Spring day in New England when it's not dumping the kind of rain that makes you consider building a boat, collecting animals and getting your crap together from a moral righteousness standpoint. My dad and I were in the grocery store, because you know, when you provide the food on the table and put a roof over someone's head you can drag them along on errands if you damn well please. We got every item on the Mama Bears' Old Testament length grocery list and both shut off our cell phones to provide us with an alibi for not responding to food item afterthought phone calls that would prolong our stay in this place.

We get to the cashier and my dad has me lift a case of water because of his back or whatever. Now, let me just pause here for a moment in order to explain something. In recent years, the furthest distance I have ran is the vast expanse between the King' couch and his porcelain throne. However, back in the day, I ran Cross Country and Track under the tutelage of a coach who stressed the importance of "lean muscle." Lean muscle is sought after in the same way a man is attractive who "does OK for himself." This is an oddly specific muscle mass that was typically enough to give me a sense of anabolic arrogance, but not enough to garner the gaze of a girl. This particular event with the checkout aisle chick took place halfway through my track season and my cardiovascular health, legs and arms were in mid-season form and I was feeling pretty good about myself and that attitude was reflected in my attire. I had chosen to wear a tank top on that day. If I decided to present myself in public in that manner now, the reaction would be the same as if I were wearing a fanny back. Mainly, "Wow, there's something you don't see every day." The girl in the checkout aisle was clearly doing her job as her eyes burned a lust-filled laceration through my luscious limbs as I lifted the water. My dad paid her and then we walked out to the parking lot and he said "You know she was checking you out, right?

Without looking at him, I nonchalantly said "Yeah." and we went home. All and all, I pretty much handled the entire situation like a total boss.

Fast forward to the present-day. I do love living on my own, but my financial situation and caffeine cravings have caused me to be a bit more frugal with my spending on food. I roll up to some cranky. old cashier with my creaking cart full of milk, bread, beer and microwave dinners and had this judgmental Judy look at the contents of the cart, then look at me with eyes that made audible her thoughts of "Oh honey, don't worry. She's out there somewhere."

Where has the time gone? Are my Golden Ages at the grocery store over? Sadly, that very well may be the case.

Eye Rights Goodly

Is there anything more annoying than unknowingly bumping into an undercover agent for the Pronunciation Police or the verbal violence that comes as a result of attempting to converse with a Grammar gang member?

If I mean to say the word "go" and I accidentally pronounce it "stop" then I wouldn't mind if someone interjected and said "Whoa! Mark, be careful. You're off by 180 degrees on that one." Otherwise, the only thing this person is doing is interrupting while I'm talking and correcting me, all the while knowing full-well what it was that I am trying to communicate. Last time I checked, mispronunciation is not a sin. You know what is a sin, though? Pride. So, unless someone has a teaching certification that says "I'll Tell You What To Say And How To Say It" why don't we go ahead and leave that speck of sawdust in my eye right where it is, okay?

Some people might be thinking "But Mark, grammar is one of my pet peeves." Yeah? Well, I hate the New York Jets fan base, but if someone starts a sentence with the phrase "So, I was watching my absolute favorite team, the New York Jets....." I'm not going to be like "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Conversation over!" Mainly, because I know that come January they won't have very much to say to me, so I just exercise a little patience and wait it out. My point here being, personal pet peeves do not have the power to circumnavigate politeness and manners.

I do feel the need to further defend my position. Below is a list of "mispronounced" words and their meaning so that the next time someone decides to play the role of Audible Autocorrecter in your life, you can shut them down and say "Actually, I meant it like this so you can place your behind in a rear-end receptacle and discontinue the vibration of your vocal cords!"

Ideer - This is an app that helps people to locate the deer closest to them. What happens as a result of this information is strictly up to the individual.

OarGone - This is the sailors' equivalent to the "Find My Phone" app. Whether it be a result of poor visibility or an over-consumption of alcohol, this app helps people locate a misplaced oar on a boat.

Ill-A-Noise - This is a prank baby monitor that has a barfing sound effect timed to go off every hour on the hour. It is a pointless, cruel invention which I can liken only to the deceptive naming of the vegetable filled chicken pot pie.

BobWire - An online illegal music downloading site where people can download songs by Bob Marley, Bob Dylan and Bob Seger, free of charge.

Excape - Much like the invisibility cloak in the Harry Potter series, this is an invisibility jacket that has the power to make the person wearing it completely invisible to their ex if they should happen to see them while out and about and they want to avoid those several minutes of awkward, obligatory small talk.

Fedrill - This is a tool and a torture device used by the government on people who have not filed their taxes on time. It's a great drill. Definitely the best drill. Craftsman makes fake tools.

Upmost - Tallest. Used to indicate great height.

Volumptuous - Loud. Full of volume.

Cannidate - This is when two people are on a blind date and they both simultaneously realize that, while the other person is in all likelihood a decent human being, they are most definitely not what each other are searching for in a spouse. They decide to put a lid on it early, save each other an awkward phone call with friends and family and dine and dash.

Doggy Dog World - This is the name of a doggy daycare that is owned and run by rapper, Snoop Dogg. There are a lot of questions surrounding this place, like "Is Snoop Dogg qualified to run an animal care facility?" Is it necessary for the dogs to be wearing chains so large that their heads are constantly dragging on the floor? Lastly, what is in the doggy treats that causes the dogs to go into crazy fits of laughter and then just lay there and do absolutely nothing? For the answers to this question and more, I guess we will just have to "chill til the next episode."        

Family Matters

I've never understood the allure of those shows like 19 Kids and Counting.

My dad has five brothers, so I have a lot of cousins. Whenever we are all together, it's total chaos! Like jamming people into a telephone booth (which is a booth sized area with a telephone in it as an FYI) Other than the fact that the conversation and conduct of most of my uncles would land them in prison if it were ever broadcast on live television, I've never been hanging out with everyone and thought "You know what this jam-packed house could use? More people, expensive recording equipment and cameras."

But on the other hand, videotaping my life wouldn't be that interesting either.

"For Dinner tonight is Mark going to go with a HungryMan dinner or a Celeste pizza? Is the milk in the fridge from this month? Stay tuned to find out in this weeks' episode of "That Other Bachelor, Though"

Delusions of Grandeur

"The college years are the best years of your life."

Depending on who you ask, this is either a common expression or the least funny anti-joke of all-time.

In just a few short months, I will be turning 25 years old. Maybe it's the prospect of finally being able to rent a car or maybe I am going through what, according to the average lifespan of my undying ancestors, would amount to a "quarter life crisis", I can not help but take some time and reflect on my past for a moment. According to the expression above, my best is behind me and all I have in store for me now is the steady loss of senses, everyday household items and an increased percentage of my paychecks. At this age, gifts become more practical than exciting and I receive a cake that, with each passing year, becomes a greater fire hazard to my home.

As a chapter closes, I believe that it's natural to think about things I wish I had done differently. For example, I wish that my infant agent had talked me out of doing that Preemie Playboy shoot that permanently put semi-nude photos of myself out into the universe. I wish I could somewhat confidently spit the hot fire that is the lyrics to "Lose Yourself" by Eminem without sounding like someone who's trying to angrily recite the dictionary while running on a treadmill, but given my age and current level of cardiovascular health, these will remain regrets.  

It's certainly not all bad though, I was and am very fortunate growing up. I got to go on a lot of nice vacations all over the world, experience new hobbies and have a rum and coke at a diner in Madrid, realizing a little later than I would've hoped that, despite our language barrier, the waiter was pouring a "tell me when" portion with the rum.

If, in fact, my physical and intellectual apex is behind me, I'd like to share with you what I consider to be my two crowning achievements


Accomplishment #1. I Ran a Half Marathon in 2008
From 5th grade up until I graduated high school, I spent the Fall running cross country and the Spring running track. The physical benefits of participating in these activities was far outweighed by the social and psychological schism my sporting choice had created. The thought process behind the Men's cross country uniform seemed to be "Let's take a fragile, paper-thin little high school boy and put him in a sleeveless shirt and booty shorts."  The terminology associated with the sport didn't help either. Football and basketball players had games, that's exciting! It's game time! Cross country and track gatherings are referred to as "meets" as if we are all getting together to hang out.

"Hey man, what's up? Good luck out there. Watch out for the roots in the woods on Mile 2."

"Thanks. I appreciate that. Hey, what's that guy yelling at us about over there with the pistol?"

"I don't know. Let's get out of here."

You are just never going to here monumental sports movie monologue when all that a coach really needs to say is "Everybody run fast, okay?" In all fairness, runners did try to make it cool, Basketball had those And1 shirts that said "Not in My House" and Cross Country countered with a T-Shirt that said "My Sport is Your Sports Punishment"  because that sounds a lot better than "My Sport Is That Thing You Instinctively Do When The Linebacker From The Football Team Finds Out That The Answers You Gave Him For His Geometry Test Got Him A D+."

At the end of the cross country season my sophomore year of high school, my dad and I ran the Detroit Half Marathon. We had trained for months and overall, I was very pleased with how I did. Although, I don't think any training or motivation is required to place someone in the middle of downtown Detroit and tell them to move as quickly as possible. The sad part about this whole thing is that I trained for months and months in order to be able to run a half marathon. To me, it sounds much more impressive to say "I ran a 13 mile race." People run full marathons. You'll never hear someone brag about climbing halfway up a mountain. Even in the Dixie Chicks song, "Landslide", they climb the entire way up before taking natures' earth-quaking elevator down. A few days ago, I ran on the treadmill for the first time in years. Remembering quite clearly the physical feats I was once capable of, I assured myself that I had definitely not lost my mini marathon mojo and cranked the treadmill up to that speed that made the old lady on the elliptical next to me stare. I finished five miles. I had neither the aspirations nor the ability to get out of bed the next morning, but I had run five miles. My point here being that, if that half marathon was the peak of my running performance and 13 miles is my limit of the furthest I will ever go, I would be best served to keep it to myself treat it like the North Shore Mathletes final answer to take home the championship, as though the limit did not exist.  

Accomplishment #2: I am an Olympic Gold Medalist

Prior to arriving on a college campus, incoming freshman are usually sent a list of things that they will need along with a list of items that are and are not acceptable in the dorm or around campus. This list typically includes everything from clothes hangers to binders, an alarm clock to Ramen noodles. I would not find out until I arrived on campus that there was another item required of all incoming freshman. That being an expert level of understanding and application of knowledge as it pertained to playing Halo 4. I had never really played these games before, but I thought I'd participate purely for the social aspect of electronic engagement. Waiting to try out Halo for the first time in college, on the games' fourth installment was kind of like someone deciding they want to start working out again at the NFL Combine. At this point, it seemed as though everyone that I played against knew every nook and cranny of every map and could kill me with a head shot through a two centimeter hole four buildings over. Or the video game glitch that allowed you to shoot someone through the wall on the Longbow level provided it was between 1 and 3 p.m. on a day starting with "T" and the game was being played on a Samsung television that was facing east. I am no quitter, but after a few agonizing attempts, my response to Halo invites became the same as my response to the invitation to play football with my church members on Thanksgiving, "I will just watch, thanks."

Not that I didn't play video games. Oh, I played video games. I was much more partial to sports video games, particularly, hockey video games. I bought NHL Blades of Steel '99 for the Nintendo 64 and continued to purchase the the latest and greatest in holographic hockey games up until NHL 13 for Xbox. I now realize that this is the greatest financial faux pas of all-time, annually purchasing a similar game, with a similar objective just because the players' toothless mouths and black-eyes are a little less pixelated.

I accomplished everything there was to do in these games. I created a player and brought him from the fourth line of an AHL team with a nagging girlfriend telling him he's never going to make it to the starting Left Wing on a Stanley Cup championship winning squad and an entourage of ice hunnies. I made trades and brought a tailor-made team from the preseason to the top of the postseason totem pole. Without a doubt, my greatest on-ice accomplishment was when I entered into the "Olympic" mode where I got to pick a country and compete for the glory of the gold.

With the computer set to All-Star mode, which allows the opposition to be injected with electronic adrenaline and special software steroids, I dismantled the likes of Canada, Russia, Sweden, Finland and in an unfortunate Gold Medal match-up, the United States. Do you know what country I did all of this with?............Nope, it was Japan. I wanted to challenge myself and as uplifting and unlikely as the story of the Jamaican bobsled team was in "Cool Runnings." The story of how I brought together a bunch of ice inept underdogs onto the podium is hardly deserving of the title "Memoirs of a Gretzky." While I am grateful that my Honda CR-V handles fantastically on the New England ice. I can promise you that based on what I saw in these imaginary Olympics, the guy who made it definitely does not. I missed a lot of wide-open shots and struck air most of the time I went to check someone, but my thumbs had a decade of sports dynasty building under their belt and I was not to be denied. You may think of Japan as that place that made your cell phone or your car, but I think of them as the 2006 Turin Technological Electronic Olympics Gold Medalists.        

What's the Meaning of This?!

Beyond a certain age, adults and technology seem to go together about as well as myself and a stick shift. I can try to grasp the concept if you like, but someone, at some point, will probably die. It was evident which side of the tech savvy timeline my dad fell into when he referred to fad of fantasy creatures from my early childhood as Pokemen or the hot, new turn of the century CD he bought my brother and I as being by the "Main Street Boys." Growing up, along with serving as a money leech and constant questioner of everything, the arrival of the DVD player ushered in another familial role. I became my parents personal technician for their weekly small group, charged with the dastardly duty of putting the demonic disc into the digitized box of witchcraft and making the whole thing "go." I was then banished to the basement so that they could have intelligence exchanges about adult stuff. Technology has continued to move forward at a feverish pace. This occurred to me when I realized that in a statement above, I referenced buying a CD, something no one has probably done in quite some time.

One of the great milestones as a Millennial was the day I got my first cell phone. I was a freshman in high school and one day, as my dad and I were driving in the car, he reached into his pocket and handed me my first slice of flip phone freedom and said "Here." It was so uneventful and yet so momentous, because up until that point I thought cell phones were only needed by special agents or important businessman, but now I had one of my own. Thus began a new era in my existence, I would never have to look up again.

In one of his talks, linguist and professor at Columbia University, John McWhorter, lays out a case refuting the common argument that texting is killing the English language and may in fact have far greater benefits than many people realize. He states that those who are able to separate "texting" English and written English are, in some ways, bilingual.  John references texts from early American and ancient history from academics of the day who believe that language constructs are completely lost on the youth of the time, bringing to light the reminder that grumbling grownups far out-date any Apple products.

I'm not here to explain away the perceived deterioration of modern dialogue, are people today far too "plugged in?" Probably. However, this is simply a modern mode of communication. I wonder if anyone forty years ago ever got bashed by their parents for spending far too much time in their room writing letters. My goal here is to reach across the generational gap so we can communicate from a place of commonality. I'd like to share with you some common texting acronyms and what they mean so we can better understand and interact with each other.

LOL - Lost Old Lady (to be texted out to others when grandma can not be located in the grocery store or in any other setting where she may tend to wander off.)
BRB - Bed Rest Break (This is an indication from one person to another that the sender is tired and in need of sleep. The communication with the recipient is over for the time being.)
TTYL - Take Two of Your Lyrica (This is another indication that conversation is over because one party is spending far too long complaining about their Fibromyalgia and they are no longer a pleasure to converse with. They just need to take their meds and chill out for a bit.)
LMAO - Learn More About One Direction (This is a personal reminder to try to learn something about current pop culture so people can have conversations with the preteens in their life.)
LMFAO - Left My Fone At Office (This is to be used in an instance to explain a prolonged period of unresponsiveness to a text. In this case, the recipient was not reachable by phone because they had left it at the office. Spelling phone with an "F" simply eliminates the need to text out so many pesky letters. Both words look like they are pronounced the same so, why not?)
ROTFLOL - Reach Out To Finance Lawyers On Loans (The purpose behind this one has a bunch of money related mumbo jumbo that I, myself, don't have the capacity to understand just yet. It has to do with finances and needing the help of a professional. That's all I got for ya on that one.)
OMG - Obliterate My Grandchildren (They're a bundle of joy, aren't they? Most of the time yes, but it gets to a point where the constant noise and rapid movement is just too much and they break into a story about what they did to punish mommy or daddy back in the day and the passage of time has only allowed them to further hone these sinister skills.)
IDK - I'll let the Doctor Know - (This is when someone identifies a new and emerging ache, pain or bruise that they were not previously aware of. They make a mental note to themselves to bring it up at their next doctor visit.)

the final two have similar letters and meanings, they are to be used when the grandkids simply need to be whipped into shape and put to work the acronyms are WTF and FTW which respectively stand for Wash The Floors and Fix The Washer, because washing the floors hurts granddaddy's back and trying to figure out that darn washing machine hurts his head so he shouldn't have to it. His house, his rules!

Happy Texting!      

Cognitive Derailing

“I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

It’s the statement that you never want to hear from your parents, a private eye detective or a Jehovah’s Witness.

Sadly, this is exactly how the cognitive testing I underwent began. Cognitive testing involves a series of exercises used to examine ones thought process and their ability to acquire knowledge and understanding. If you are still unsure as to what cognitive testing is at this point, all that means is that, like myself, you have definitely had some form of it done in the past.

The awkwardness of this medical moment begins in the waiting room when they hand you that "Tell Us a Little Bit About Your Medical History" sheet. It's just me and five other people out there scribbling away as if we are signing up for some kind of medical Match.com. That's the biggest mystery to me. what is everyone else in here for? I could never just outright ask someone because that'd be rude, you know? "So, what's wrong with you?" However, it gets to a certain point, mostly when the guy sitting next to me need to use the backside of their sheet to continue to explain their medical misfortune and I'm thinking "Ummm, can I finish my questionnaire in the hallway?" I could always tell when people got to questions about having back problems, because I'd suddenly see them straighten up like a meerkat for no reason at all. "Wait for it.....wait for it.....there it is!" I've never seen such immediate response to a possible problem quite like that. If we were all honest with ourselves, we would openly admit that the only time we care about our posture is when someone mentions posture.

The testing itself covers a wide range of areas including verbal fluency where I am asked questions such as "Mark, what is the opposite of populated?"

"Ummm, my sixteenth birthday party."

"Mark, tell me a word most similar to argumentative."

"I DON'T WANNA!"

"What is another word for perplex?"

".......for what??

I next had to listen to her tell me a story and then retell the same story back to her word for word. This test presented two major issues for me. Firstly, the pace and volume she used to tell the tale suggested to me that she already had her mind made up about what the results of this test were going to tell her about my level of intellect. She goes "JOHNNY WOKE UP FOR SCHOOL AT 6 A.M. JOHNNY COULD NOT FIND HIS COAT!" Geez lady, was this his favorite coat or are there an orchestra of jackhammers at a construction site outside that my ears aren't picking up?" The story continued with pacing issues and a lack of action that couldn't keep the attention of the most intellectually inclined individuals. It was, in many ways, the Star Wars: Phantom Meance of mental testing. After a minute or so of listening to Johnny's minuscule misadventures of not being able to find his jacket, nearly missing the bus and then racing into school only to realize he had left his homework on the dining room table, I'm sitting there thinking "Someone better get stabbed, cheated on or Darth gosh darn Maul better show up really flippin' quick. We've all been forced to sit through elongated and uneventful stories, but to have this done to me by a medical professional just seemed cruel.

The critiquing went both ways though, because a part of the exam that I did not perform to their liking on was when the doctor said "OK Mark, I want you to name as many animals as you can in thirty seconds, go! So off I went "Arthur, Aslan, Batista, Bugs, Dory, Alvin, Theodore, Simon." Apparently, the "M.D." on this woman's lab coat stood for "Majorly Dispassionate" because she managed to look right passed the creative genius of what I was doing and dryly said "Name real animals please." Although years have gone by since this exam, I'd like you to realize that my answers objectively took a higher level of thinking and also, this story will probably be the only time you see the names Batista and Dory mentioned in the same sentence, unless the two of them go through this same cerebral functionality testing at some point.

I moved on from the viciousness of the verbal to be vehemently blindsided by a visual test of my spatial reasoning skills. This involves manipulating shapes in space to make them fit appropriately. Unlike the approach used by many between a stubborn outlet and a cell phone charger cord, the doctor did not appreciate me just trying to forcefully fuse the shapes together. Unfortunately, all this nonsensical shape-shifting made me think of was the midweek makeovers that my mother would perform on the layout of our home furniture while my dad was away on business. In this equation I played the part of an unwilling moving crew member. Of course, my dad was upset, he comes home and all the furniture had danced around like some off-Broadway production of The Business Trip and The Beast. So this poor woman was probably very confused when she said "Move the shapes to make them fit in the best way" and my response was "I think dad won't like that very much. Remember last time?"

The next intellectual antagonist I came face to face with was the mathematical portion of the test. This was an area everyone in school figured I excelled in simply because I wore glasses, a correlation I have yet to understand to this day. "I can't see where I am going, therefore, I understand numbers" makes absolutely no sense to me, but maybe that's just because my numerical knowledge far outweighs my ability to think rationally. As if everyone who's ever worn glasses just spends their childhood bumping into walls in their living room and just reaches this point of sad seclusion "Well, I guess I'm not going anywhere, so I might as well work on my times tables chart." It's the only impairment with a perceived advantage. I'd never look at someone with their arm in a cast and think "Now there's a guy who's got the Periodic Table of Elements memorized." To fulfill this part of the test, I was told to count backwards from 100 to 0 in increments of 7. Or maybe I did this in order to secure a job as NFL commissioner,  Roger Goodell's personal assistant in his quest to disallow any New England Patriot touchdowns that he felt were gained via an unfair advantage such as having deflated footballs, tampering with headphones or throwing the ball to Julian Edelman,

If simple subtraction was considered dipping my toe in my personal pool of paranoia, I was forcibly flopped into the deep end with the next segment which my doctor called Data Checking. which is the ability to look at information to verify its accuracy or identify differences. I was asked to quickly and effectively analyze numbers and written pieces of information on in two groups to make sure data was carried over properly on tables, lines and charts. Interestingly, Tables, Lines and Charts was also the name of the lowest grossing but most intellectually stimulating pay per view event in the history of the WWE. As the younger of two siblings, this test really hit on a touchy spot with me, because as I went through school I ended up having a lot of the same teachers my brother had had before me and given my unique last name, I was quickly and continuously identified as "Michael's Little Brother." My brother and I share the same last name, the same parents, the same birth date two years apart and the same initials. So, as an outsider looking in, it would be easy to treat us the same. However, he was more into math and science and things that would benefit him and usher in a decent paying career in his future. Whereas, I preferred English and Social Studies because I learned vocabulary words such as bumfuzzle and got to say Frigate Raleigh under the safeguard of knowing I was talking about a Revolutionary War vessel. My brother played football and lacrosse and was rather sturdy. I ran cross country and track and was practically transparent. He was in Future Business Leaders of America because it would look good on his college application. I joined Spanish Honors Society, because one night a year we organized an All You Can Eat taco night in the cafeteria. I think that we can all agree if data and numbers send you into hysterics, there's a problem. Halfway through this exercise I proceeded to blurt out "BOTH OF THE CHARTS ARE FINE! SO WHAT, IF ONE IS DIFFERENT? THEY'RE BOTH SPECIAL!!!" This was not the kind of out of the box, emotions driven answer that they were looking for.

Personally, my least favorite ingredient in the days' cocktail of cognitive analysis was the first one that was added during our introduction. I am given three words and throughout our tumultuous time together, she will ask me to repeat the words to her. This part of the test reminded me of that one friend we all have that caught that ONE big fish that ONE time you went out on a boat with them an now you need to hear about it every time you see each other, which in your mind is always far too often. I hated this because for everything that followed, I felt as though I was only half paying attention. Like when you're talking to someone and they have a bunch of snots hanging out of their nose and you're trying to intently listen to them talk about issues they are having with a relationship while you're thinking to yourself "I think I know the problem!" Among the random bits of information that the email of my intellect has chosen to mark as "Important" is that the three words that I was given when I last had this testing done were: Apple, School and Church. I remember that because I wrote them down on my hand when she wasn't looking. Again, I 'd argue that it took a decent amount of brain power to decide to do this, be at peace with it no matter how morally wrong it was and then wait for a moment when she couldn't see me write it. Really, it would've been easy enough to remember though. "OK, two buildings I reluctantly went into as a child and a food I reluctantly ate, got it."

Now. I am in no position to judge anyone's organization and filing skills, but I'm not sure whether they keep a record of what words they've used in the past, because for whatever reason, as I began the testing this time around, anxiously awaiting the trio of trepidation, she says "OK, your three words are apple, school and church." I felt as though I was a member of the band of Grecian soldiers responsible for rolling the wooden horse up to the walls of Troy like "OK, we give up. Here's your surrender present, bye!" I tried to stifle my excitement. This feeling was like when you were in school and you had a math test on a topic where you and your classmates had unanimously decided to check out for the chapter. So the teacher agrees to do a couple of examples on the board prior to handing out the test. Instead of easing our exam anxiety, these hieroglyphics only served to heighten the awareness of our impending "F." Recognizing a hopeless errand when she saw one, our teacher wiped her hands of responsibility like Pontius Pilate before the crucifixion and retreated to her desk accidentally leaving Playbook to Pythagorean Theorem perfection unerased and available, right in front of us.

Should we have said something to the teacher? Of course. Did we say anything? Absolutely not! This one kid in our class, Aaron, raises his hand to tell the teacher and our entire class that, indirectly, he valued his letter grade more than his life. Everyone else shot him a look like "Aaron, so help me, if you screw this up for us, the second we are off of school grounds, you will be in the ground." In the 6 years since high school, I have encountered crying children in public and an overly confident brother who bet me that Kansas City was located in Kansas, but the valuable lesson I learned that day that could not be taught in any textbook was that sometimes in life, it's best to keep your mouth shut. Do you want to know how many times the topic of life regrets pops up and I've used the phrase "Man, I really wish I had paid attention when my teacher was talking to us about Pythagorean Theorem?" Zero!

This doctor wanted me to remember the words apple, school and church and I can promise you, they will be in the back of my mind until the day I die.