So I've got all these people I knew a long time ago who have found me on MySpace. And I only have a MySpace page because I got suckered into signing up for one so I could send an e-mail to a friend of mine, a friend who hasn't answered in four months. But now I have people e-mailing me, saying, "Do you remember me?" And I'm not complaining, because these are nice people.
So, with all of my earnest striving to do something worthwhile with my life, here's all I've got so far: New Orleans Saints linebacker Scott Fujita attended elementary school at the same campus I did, and he spent most of fifth grade challenging me to fight him after school, and I spent most of fifth grade avoiding said fights. Then, for some reason, by sixth grade he didn't want to beat me up anymore. When I got a job at City Hall in our hometown several years later, his mother was a coworker of mine. I told her the story, she said she mentioned it to him, and he had no recollection of it. So that is what I've done with the first 30 years of my life: I've been threatened by a kid who grew up to be marginally famous, who has no recollection of the event. I don't really see the point of trying anymore; I've obviously accomplished what I came to Earth to do.
I built my coat rack this weekend. I have to put a layer of sealer on it tonight, and then tomorrow I can put the hooks on it and it will be ready for my kids to knock over when they get back from California.
Title from the movie The Gathering Storm.