Five Odd Facts About Me

January 15, 2007 by · 3 Comments
Filed under: Life 

I’ve self-tagged, after reading Russell’s (no relation) post about “Five odd facts that most people wouldn’t know”.

My audience is so diverse that I’ll have to lean heavily on the “most people” phrase in that request – somebody who reads this could know any of these.  So, without further ado, here are 5 Odd Facts that most people don’t know about me.

  1. I was born in St. Louis, MO. Most people associate me with New Jersey, which makes perfect sense to me since I live here now and have done so since I was 9 years old (even attending college at Rutgers).  However, I was born in St. Louis and grew up in St. Louis and University City, MO.  Dad moved us east for a job.  I still consider myself a midwesterner at heart, though the truth is that I’ve likely been too contaminated by NJ to fit in out there.

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  2. I’ve never successfully passed a swimming test that involved the crawl stroke. For some reason, I can’t do the breathing the way they want me to do it.  That meant that as a Middle School-age kid, I wasn’t able to pass the test that let me into the deep end (I had to wait until I turned 13 and was automatically eligible).  Ditto for the canoe test at camp – I had to wait until I was a staff member.
  3. In high school I was an accomplished percussionist. I was in Jr. High All-Region Orchestra, Sr. High All-Region Band and Orchestra, and Sr. High All-State Band (twice) and Orchestra (once).  This was playing either tympani or traps (anything that isn’t tympani, snare, or keyboard-based instruments like xylophone).  Somewhere along the way I decided that I didn’t like the competitive nature of music – some of the other musicians were real jerks using their bad attitude towards others as “competitive edge”.  In college I did one year in marching band and two in pep band.  I ended up leaving the marching band because I took one of my wrong turns – pledging the band fraternity.  I quit shortly before I was made a full member and after that nobody from the frat would talk to me ever (I tried to start conversations and was met with stony silence, every time.  Mature, eh?).  I haven’t played seriously since, though I have recently indicated to the church choir that I’d be happy to help out if they needed a percussion instrument played some time.
  4. That scratch on the hood of the blue 1984 Oldsmobile Firenza station wagon was caused when a friend that I was teaching to drive accidentally drove up a tree. I’m not sure I’ve ever told Mom and Dad about this one.  I was going into my sophomore year in college, and my parents and sister (brother was staying at college that summer, I think) went on vacation.  I stayed home to work.  That weekend, my friend from high school Jessica Meyerson (now a very well-educated academic, I think) came to stay in the otherwise empty house with me (she was living with her father in Manhattan).  She never got her driver’s license at age 17, and I offered to teach her.  We took the car up to the quiet residential area of Englewood Cliffs and I set out to teach her.  At one point, she turned too far to the right and headed for the curb.  I shouted “BRAKE” and she hit the gas harder.  She ended up driving up and over a 10 foot evergreen tree, pushing it to the ground.  Luckily the back wheels stayed on the ground.  We backed the car off the tree.  The only damage was a scratch on the hood, lots of pine needles all over the place, and a smushed tree.  The lesson was over.  Jessica left her NYC address and phone and ended up paying just about her entire summer wages to replace the tree.  We drove home and spent the rest of the afternoon washing and vacuuming the car.  My uncle worked at the auto plant where the car was built, so lucky for me he had sent some touch up paint.  I’m pretty sure that Mom and Dad don’t even know that she stayed for the weekend! (Oh shush.  Nothing happened.)
  5. I am at least 1/4 Swedish. My maternal grandmother is 100% Swedish and she was a first-generation Swedish-American.  I remember that every time she came to visit for a major holiday, she brought Vort Limpa bread for all of us.  Apparently, the blond blue-eyed genes didn’t come along for the ride.

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