Monday, December 15, 2008

I swear; a lot. I always have. Once my Uncle Buck said that if you can’t say it in front of your Mom you should not say it. Since then I have made it a point to swear in front of my Mom. I realize that swearing is a sign of an undisciplined mind, an uneducated person and someone lacking in imagination. Probably true. However "Fetch" just does not cut it. Besides, what really is the difference? One word tells people that you are "!" the other tells them you are a pansie. About twice a year I resolve not to swear and I have excellent intentions right up until the moment when (nameless person) says or does something so stupid/thoughtless/hypocritical that if I held it in any longer I would do myself an injury. I am actually amazed that some people are offended by mere words, For example, a man (nameless) who has just stolen from me, been caught, then had the audacity to lie about it to my face. An asshole by any definition of the word. However when I rightfully apply this sobriquet to him, his face becomes red, the veins in his neck pop out and he appears offended. This amazes me. Or, people who do all the things that you shouldn’t, all those things that all the religions teach you not to do in Sunday school, all those things that your Mom and Dad hopefully told you would get you a one way ticket to hell. These people are offended by a scatological reference. This amazes me. It amazes me to the point that I feel like quoting scripture, and not the one about “Swear neither by the earth, which is Gods footstool” because any thinking person realizes that that is speaking of OATHS but the one about the white Sepulcher, all pretty and pristine to look at, but inside moldering and full of filth and corruption. Now I do try to refrain in front of children, and when its just men I tend to expand my already formidable vocabulary a lot more then if there are women present, but I swear. A lot. I swear in church and at home, I swear at work and when I am playing, I swear at family parties and funerals and for the most part I am amazed when people are offended. And do you want to know the crazy thing? Sometimes I do not swear at all. I am what I am, and fights is fun. (Popeye is so cool.) With me, what you see is what you get, really.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

The unbearable oddness of me, offending part2

The other way I offend people is by being funny. You see, I am not funny. I think that I am and I tell a lot of jokes but I have been informed over and over by those who both love and hate me (With me it is either one or the other) that I am not funny. I am just mean. Now, I do not mean to be mean, in my mind when I say something funny there will be big smiles and laughter all around but what actually happens is that everyone gets really quiet and the tender hearted ones weep. For example, I was recently at a dinner celebrating the end of filming with an entire cast and crew, everyone was sitting around talking and laughing and telling humorous anecdotes. I love to be the center of attention so I told the one about when I ran over a guy in a golf cart. Even just typing that makes me smile, so as I finished the story I emitted a ringing guffaw expecting that the table would be joining in. Dead Silence. After I finished laughing and wiping the tears from my eyes one of the little actress girls said to me in a very small voice “Did you really do that” I was shocked, not one of them was even smiling, or eating or doing anything but stare at me in a horrified manner. So I said “Yeah, funniest damn thing I ever saw” and laughed by myself for a while more. People in California have no sense of humor.

In which Tom offends everyone

Part 1

I realized the other day that I offend people. I really do not mean to and I am mostly surprised when I do but the salient fact is that I am an offensive human being. I have been thinking of why this is and I have come up with a possible working hypothesis. I may seem to ramble a bit here, but bear with me and I will return to the subject eventually.
A) I do not understand the way other people think. Sometimes what I think they are thinking is not what they are thinking at all, if in fact other people do think which sometimes I think is very unlikely;(that in itself is a prime example of how I offend people, I make grandiose statements informing the rest of the world that it is somehow deficient on the tom-o-meter.) Back to thinking, I truly do not think the way other people do. I realize this mostly at movie theatres and other public places where everyone around me reacts to something in the same way and I fail to see why. Then later I am the only one reacting a certain way to something completely different. For example I give you the movie, Braveheart. In one of the Battle scenes a man gets his arm chopped off, I was laughing and everyone else in the very full movie theatre was making ‘oh that was gross ‘ sounds at first I saw nothing odd at this, then I realized that it is the outward manifestation of an inward oddness. I think differently then most other people. I do not know how or why, I just know that I do.
B) People confuse me. I just do not understand sometimes. Once I asked a girl what she wanted for Christmas and she told me “A pair of Mittens and some slim fast” So, I got her a pair of mittens and some slim fast. Everyone (including the girl) told me what a jerk I was. I did not understand why people where so upset for 15 years, when I told my wife the story and she explained why I was such a jerk. Now I understand that there is this thing called “irony” and I have a vague notion of what it entails, but for some reason I almost never understand it when other people use it and when I try, I come across as just being mean. I think it may have something to do with voice inflection, and being a lip-reader that does me no good at all. If only people had a little screen on one eye that would flash ;) whenever irony was being used. I have hit a few (ok more then a few) guys whom in retrospect, where probably just being ironic. Not assholes.

Saturday, September 13, 2008


The two biggest worries I have about writing a blog are first: that someone might read it and second: that no one will. After all there are billions of thoughts out there and with the pervasiveness of the Internet chances are that at least one other person has had the same idea and written it down for the billions of other people to read. There really is nothing new, I could probably abbreviate every sentence I write and people would have enough of the same shared experiences to understand what I was saying. "Sex with flaming goats" is one example, "no soup for you" is another and I could probably continue on this vein for a multitude of infinities. So, why write a blog? Because someone might read it and at the same time, no one will.

The "sex with flaming goats" is from an interview with Jason Alexander a few years ago. He was talking about weirdos on the Internet and how you could find someone or a group of someones somewhere that would like the same things you did. So if you are a freak that likes to have sex with goats that have been lit on fire, chances are you could find a group of like minded individuals on line that like the same thing. Personally I am not that kind of a freak.


So I now have a blog. I did not really want a blog but in order to comminicate with various and sundry people it seems that I must have one. Personally I think computers by and large make life more difficult. It used to be that all you really needed was a place to sleep, food to eat and a bit of human interaction now and again. Now you need all of the above plus e-mail, and web access and a cell phone glued to your head if you do not already have one of those stupid borg devices stuck in your ear, and tivo and all sorts of other stuff that is supposed to make life easier but in fact complicates it to the complete detriment of society.