Bememed

Looks like I’ve been tagged for a meme by John, so here goes. Apparently what we’re doing here is a mix of random facts about me along with near-brushes with fame.

1. I was born in Lawrence, Massachusetts, when it was apparently nicer than it is today. I grew up in Manchester, New Hampshire, which means that until I went to college, I had spent my entire life in former mill towns in New England. It is my opinion that I have not yet fully explored the effect that this had on my psyche.

Digression: My alma mater, Johns Hopkins University, hosts a symposium each year, and one of the guests one year was the famous Jerry Springer (he totally brought Steve with him, too). It was the only academic talk I’d ever been to at which the audience chanted the speaker’s name before he got up on stage. Afterwards, through the machinations of a fellow Mancunian, I was invited to an event where I got to shake his hand. I still have his autograph on a cocktail napkin somewhere.

2. Since graduating from college, I’ve been working in the field of educational publishing. As I’m now in my second job in that area, I guess it qualifies as a career now. I guess I’ve now answered the question of what one does with a degree in creative writing. I was asked that once by an English professor at Hopkins, and to this day, I kind of regret not asking him what he thought the English majors under his tutelage were going to do with their degrees (English and the Writing Seminars are separate departments at Hopkins, and they don’t get along at all).

Digression: I once shook Al Kaprielian’s hand, which was my reward for answering a question he posed correctly. If you didn’t grow up in New Hampshire, that means nothing to you. If you did grow up in New Hampshire, you’re probably wondering why in the hell I think that’s worth mentioning. Forget you. Al’s cool.

3. As I’m writing this, I’m listining to Van Morrison and the Chieftains singing Star of the County Down. Sometimes I wonder if Morrison can sing without sounding like he’s drunk. Somehow I don’t think it would be as good.

Digression: I once had dinner with Ben Stein and a woman who wasn’t his wife, but with whom I later received hearsay evidence that he was intimate. I got to choose the wine. It was a Zinfandel. Oh, and there were about ten other people there, and my contribution to the wine choice was more along the lines of saying that I didn’t like Merlot. This is my favorite story that is both completely true and totally misleading.

4. I was once present at a theft on an overnight train between Switzerland and France. People just walked into our compartment in the middle of the night, and while I argued sleepily with one in broken French, the other took my friend’s wallet and passport. This is one of my favorite travel stories.

5. I sometimes think that I’m the only New Englander who doesn’t like lobster and the only Jew who doesn’t like rye bread. I do love me some fried scallops and a good knish, though.

6. Watching Northern Exposure on DVD has made me wonder whether I really would enjoy living in Alaska. Generally, at this point, I decide I need to get out of the house more often.

7. Aside from two overnight business trips to the Chicago suburbs, I have never been to the midwest. As I generally believe that civilization extends north to Concord, NH; south to about Providence, RI; and west to Worcester, MA, I don’t really regret this.