About a mile and a half into today’s run I happened upon a jogger chugging his way down the other side of the street. He was overdressed, in full sweats juxtaposed with my shorts and short sleeve. Cradled in his left arm like an oversized football was a bag of green and less green Utz Sour Cream and Onion potato chips.
Before I begin the real post, I recently purchased two pairs of running shorts. Running shorts are one of those things that you really can’t mess around with – it’s best to suck it up and drop $25+ dollars to get a decent pair. My mother is a discount connoisseur, and sometimes purchases crap as a result. I confronted her on her penchant to shop at TJ Maxx one time, to which she replied,
It’s not crap. It’s name brands for less!
I really think they should trademark that entire statement.
Anyway, this Friday I got a certified mail certificate, informing me that the gov’t would like for me to sign for a package that they sent me. Knowing that it was related to the FOIA request that I had sadistically submitted a year and a half ago, and still barely finished reeling from the first half of the reply, I was apprehensive. I think perhaps apprehensive is too weak. “Terrified”, however, is too strong. It was somewhere in between. I feared another body blow, but held my breath, signed the forms and drove home with my packet. With the groceries sitting untended on the kitchen floor (even the perishables, yes, even the perishables), I tore the double envelope opened and drove in.
It is my tendency to report/remember the bad news. Self-deprecation can present as humility after all, I don’t mind sharing my varied insecurities and failings. This extends far beyond what I write about. I am never satisfied with my goals, the second I accomplish one, I decide it’s not good (read: fast) enough and make new ones. Success is elusive, failure casts and omni-present pall over my everyday existence. Even when budgeting money – I keep track of every depletion of my reserves, but never keep track of the extra overtime pay that I bring in. Great for the bank account, poor as a concept: there are no gains, only losses.
My sainted mother, drawing from her infinite emotional well, accosted me regarding the post on the first half of the FOIA info. “Terrified” might be a little closer to her opinion on my mostly self-abrasive (though I prefer “exfoliating”) musings. I have plenty of good things in my life, a fount of joy that I tend to not speak of in specific terms; things are not so dour as they seem.
The second half of the FOIA was related to the personal background check. It was, to understate, positive. I am embarrassed by the thought of presenting the counter-balance to the demerits that I received in the poly/psyche portion of the investigation. But you know what? In September I signed up for a dance class because it’s something that I would never do. In October I quit the same dance class…for the same reason that I joined. This falls into that category as well. Stop reading if you only enjoy my writing when it comes from an angle of self-loathing.
Thirteen people were interviewed as part of my background investigation. Each yielded a report of somewhere between three and 12 sentences, relating opinions of my character and providing information about my tendencies/activities. I compiled every adjective and activity, neglecting none, into a master tabulation. Below is a list of the traits, ordered by the frequency of occurrence from my references.
11 of 13: Runner (I told you this was my defining personal characteristic)
6 of 13: Involved in Bible Study (the Bible study people were the ones that didn’t mention that)
4 of 13: Very Religious (I was thrilled that all three of my work references and a good high school friend all mentioned this. I thought I never mentioned this at work.)
4 of 13: Reads
4 of 13: Reliable/Trustworthy/Responsible (This is actually why I failed the poly – more on that later)
3 of 13: Respectful/Considerate
3 of 13: Intelligent
3 of 13: Takes Photographs
3 of 13: Clean (Thanks to Matt, Michael and [name redacted], my Columbia Rd roommates for mentioning that)
2 of 13: Hardworking
2 of 13: Easy Going/Personable (ha!)
2 of 13: Funny
2 of 13: Excellent Roommate
2 of 13: Listens to Music
2 of 13: Writes
2 of 13: Good Presenter (in context of the Bible Study retreats)
And, in order of where they were in the packet, 1 of 13:
sharp, clean cut, highly thought of, reserved at first, very honest, enjoys 24 (it’s true!), helpful, nice guy to be around, excellent student, highly motivated, independent, very mature, quiet person, likes movies (from Michael – where’d that come from? We think it was related to Star Trek, DS9), integrity, physically fit, competent, organized, gets along with others (ha again!), strong-willed, thinks outside the box, leader, captain of cross country team (which isn’t even true, but apparently one of the track coaches thought it was), extremely competitive athlete, thoughtful, and….”great person”.
That one threw me for a loop.
As for the reliability thing, I sort of sabotaged the poly stemming from this point. I confided that it troubled me that everyone always trusted me for everything. I then got into a theological discussion on everyone’s, including my, capacity for whatever flavors of evil. It’s like in the Bible Study I went to on Wednesday, one of the guys made a point that from one poorly handled conflict, deep ripples emanate – much deeper than the ripples of many well handled conflicts. I think of a friend who thought it would be fun to scare some punk kids who were walking in the middle of the road by buzzing them in his van, then almost took off one’s head because he forgot about the side rear view mirror. My life could fall apart at any moment. I’m not above it. It’s the second half of the post above – I even used the “it’s like the desire to throw your keys off the rail bridge just to sabotage yourself,” statement, which was quoted in the poly report. I’m glad everyone else thinks I’m reliable, thus far I have been. But the pressure to remain reliable henceforth and forthwith and forever gets burdensome.
I’m eternally thankful that I don’t have to carry such burdens alone. I have a God that snaps my bungee back toward him whenever I plummet. More visibly, I have at least 13 friends (probably really more like 30 or 40) that think I’m pretty swell. And one federal government that thinks I’m not totally awesome. There are something like 200 sovereign nations on this planet. If I can keep up the same proportions, I’m looking at 2600 friends before the governments of the world all dislike me. That’s not a Sunday BBQ; that’s an insurgency!
I’ll sent out an evite.
No…you have to be joking!!
Please tell me that you supplied the names and contact info of the people interviewed, because I’ve got to believe that if the U.S. government ran a proper background check on you, they’d have contacted me. I mean, hi — any search results that come up point to me as being the go-to person for differing/antagonistic/against-the-grain takes on Eric Furst. Of course, I wouldn’t have given them what they wanted; I’d have just been like “he’s a swell person” or “no comment”… but they should have at least tried.
Anyway, congrats on being awesome. And your mother is correct about TJ Maxx.
That sucks man. At least it’s good for the ego. I’ve done two of those for friends in the past three weeks. They’re always a crapshoot.