A few months ago I was on the phone with ORP, musing about whether I went overboard sometimes at The Blue Book depicting myself as a bumbling, clumsy & befuddled dimwit.
I remember her saying, "No, you're right on the money with that. That is the real you."
And she's right, obviously. I am the guy who, in the past 2 months, forgot Calypso's engine hatch was open and tried walking across it in mid-air ... only to fall five feet down straight to the bilge and spill/tangle myself between the two engines. Yet without breaking one bone or pulling a single ligament.
I'm the guy who walked into the side of a trailered houseboat ... hitting my head hard enough to knock myself backward to the ground. Mike is my witness.
But here's one more thing I'm hesitant to admit: I can't tell when I'm being lied to. Especially when lying shouldn't even seem necessary, or be an issue. I can't tell I've been lied to until confronted with the evidence ... though even then I'm inclined to think I'm simply not seeing the whole picture, and give the other person the benefit of the doubt.
It's true.
ORP, Fran and a handful of significant others who've known me best and longest would vigorously confirm it. Even ex-girlfriend TPW called 8 months ago, tearfully warning me to "Be careful who you get involved with."
Why am I mentioning this?
As a reminder to stop talking to myself ... cause there's a chance I might believe what I'm hearing.
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1 comment:
That's our Joe.. :-)
--b
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