Confession

It is time for me to make an admittal of sorts. I'm doing this so that the few people reading this, who are not related to me (still love ya mom, I'll call tomorrow) can have a better idea of who they are reading. Knowing the source of information is sometimes more important than knowing the information itself.

I have been described by some as someone who "Can split the atom but has a hard time tying his shoelaces." Not my words. I have never described myself as "smart" without using the word "ass" in the same sentence. When describing my intelligence I prefer to use "well read". Nothing I know is something that someone couldn't learn by just doing some reading. Maybe a little bit of thought too, but mostly just read.

But yes, I'm capable of mind-blowing moment of stupidity. The sort of moments that inspire jokes with "Hold my beer and watch this" punchlines.

Today I did one of the more mild moments of stupidity. I'm in the Phoenix area. It's kinda hot in Phoenix. It's very sunny in Phoenix. I'm pretty damned pasty white after spending the better part of this millennium in New England. I ride a motorcycle. I rode the motorcycle today. Since it was hot I rode with just a short-sleeve t-shirt. I... got... burned.

My arm looks like some sort of freakish Neapolitan ice cream. You've got the plain vanilla of the biceps, the kinda light chocolate of my forearm, and sandwiched in the middle is the freaking strawberry red of my elbow. Ouch. It's pink like medium rare steak. Which is ironic since I cooked it at about 400 degrees for three hours. I'm not feeling very smart right now.

Oh well. I'll survive. It's a four-day so I'm trying to enjoy it.