I promise I haven't been intentionally ignoring the challenge. Come to think of it, I'm not even certain I know who issued the challenge. I just remember Rachael saying something about how I had been "tagged" and that meant I needed to write six little-known facts about myself on her blog. I have no idea when the challenge was issued or whether my belated response is even relevant any longer. Still, in the spirit of mutual admiration and conciliation, I now take this opportunity to prepare for your viewing pleasure some little-known (more likely, widespread) facts about my wicked self.
DISCLAIMER: What follows is a series of confessions and musings, the nature of which will sicken the average bloggee. Bloggee acknowledges and accepts that it proceeds at its own risk. Bloggee, by reading below, expressly releases from all liability Derek Howell and all affiliated bloggers including, but not limited to, Rachael Howell, Lydia Howell, Ellie Howell, Carver Howell, and Grace Howell (well, okay, maybe not Grace), (collectively "Blogger"). Seriously, I'd turn back if I were you.
1. During my early teenage years, a painful period for all but the most deranged among us, on occasion I would experienced inexplicable cravings for "teenage mutant ninja turtle pies." For those of you blessed never to have sampled the delicacy known as a "teenage mutant ninja turtle pie" (hereinafter "TMNT Pie"), the pie consisted of a creamy pudding-
like substance encased in pie crust and coated with a nuclear (or if you're from Texas NEW-CUE-LAR)-green glazing. Think hostess pie on grade-A crack. I say "inexplicable cravings," because in the very act of consuming the substance my gag reflex would invariably reverse the flow of ingestion (i.e., make me choke). It was as if my body knew what the FDA had been unwilling to admit: TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLE PIES WERE NOT FIT FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION. Admittedly, the "pies" were
tasteless revolting. I think I must have been drawn to the pie crust and glazing to supplement some sort of mineral deficiency. I attribute all subsequent character failings and health complications--including my herniated L6--to Hostess. Were it not for several statute of limitations, I would be a wealthy man. Alas.
2. While we're on the topic of self-medicating with processed food, I must confess that before what I like to refer to as "the Enlightenment," I was much taken with processed food. In fact, but for processed food, I would not be the giant of surging masculinity you behold before you today. Allow me to illustrate. During my 9th grade year, an acquainstance convinced me to join the Meadowdale High School track team. It took all of the first fifteen minutes of the first practice for me to realize that I was a woefully inadequate runner. Still, I was nothing if not completely oblivious to my physical limitations. I was determined I would succeed at track or die trying. So I promptly went about killing myself in the following manner: I would rise every morning at 4:30 a.m. and run a mile and a half with my dad before choking down a breakfast of cheerios and heading numbly off to early-morning seminary. After seminary I would go to school, where I would walk around in a daze until 11:00 a.m., at which point I would gingerly nibble on a single Pop Tart (leaving the second for the next day). That was lunch. Then I would finish school and manly trot off to track where I would run laps and pretend to be a pole vaulter. Then I would go home about 4:00 p.m. and eat two bowls of Captain Crunch with Crunch Berries and wash it down with Graham Crackers and milk. Then most nights I would engage in the purest form of escapism: reading fiction until midnight. What is the moral of the story, and the pertinent little-known fact? I am a whole food hypocrite. My past is littered with instances of illicit indulgence in high fructose corn syrup, articial flavoring, artificial coloring, and mounds of white refined sugar.
3. My favorite TV show of all time was
Parker Lewis Can't Lose followed closely by
The Simpsons. (What you didn't know about me . . . my sanctimonious, self-righteous demeanor is nothing but a guise.) I don't remember a single episode of either show, but I remember feeling truly happy while basking in their warm, loving glow.
4. My favorite candy bar of all time is the PB Max. It disappeared about the time that Parker Lewis was taken off the air. Which was probably immediately following the first season, cerca 1991. I've done my best to recreate the PB Max . . . and you can too! Simply find your nearest
tablespoon-size utensil, a jar of chunky peanut butter, and a 12 ounce package of semi-sweet Nestlé chocolate chips. Combine peanut butter and chocolate chips
in jar and eat with spoon. Take care to have plenty of water on hand. Chunky peanut butter can lodge in your throat in a size of sufficient girth to effectively block your windpipe. Not good. (If your wife asks me why I told you about this, I will deny we ever spoke.)
5. My dream is to write a book. I do not believe there is room in this life for most fiction, especially when one considers all the fascinating things that happen in real life. I want to record my experience growing up at the end of the 20th Century. It's not that I feel my life is particularly meaningful. It's not, and that's the point. I believe that when recorded, all our lives take on more meaningful proportions. I recently read (rather I am reading at a snail's pace) the life story of a woman I home taught for several years as an Aaronic Priesthood holder. It is likely the best book I have read in several years simply because she describes her ordinary life. Something with which all of us have been blessed, with the exception of Leisy and Laney Oswald.
When I was in junior high (see aforementioned "self-medicating period"
supra), I was asked to read the play "Our Town." It's not very long, I've only read it once, but I have never forgotten the play. Somehow that play captured a feeling about the progression of life (the warmth or peace of it?) that I can't explain. I believe that feeling can be captured in a personal history. Very likely it will be many years before I have enough time to begin such an undertaking, but that's my dream.
6. The last little-known fact about me is that I am not the man you think I am. You may know me as mild-manner (or, depending on the day, "no manners") Derek Howell. Well, you'll be surprised to learn that I am actually a ninja in disguise. Yes, it's true: struggling father by day, NINJA DADDY BY NIGHT! I have been known to take on three impish fairies (or two impish fairies and a troll depending on with whom you speak) at once. I even have a ninja suit. If you don't believe me check out the clip below.
