KEEPING IT REAL

I may be wonderful, but just like normal folk; I have my share of flaws. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been accused of over-perfection, and I’m normally a terrific counter! So, like you and yours and theirs, I am making a new year’s resolution. And that resolution is, put simply, keeping it real.
Many rumors abound regarding me, most of which began with a kernel of truth, but which, like a field crazy with corn, have grown way out of proportion. Some of these so-called “facts” were never facts to begin with (hence the ironic quotation marks) and were just taken to be true since so many people believed them, no matter how ridiculous. This phenomenon is not uncommon in our culture, and in fact has its roots in some of our favorite stories and films, like The War of the Worlds, The Blair Witch Project, The Jetsons Meet the Flintstones, and The Ten Commandments. I’m flattered by many of the tall tales attributed to me, and admire the gooftards who believe them, but it’s time to set the record straight. So here goes.
First of all, let’s address my strength. Yes, I am a formidable presence, and I have caused many a man to quake in his boots, and many a woman to quake in her flats. However, I have never held a black belt in Kung Fu, Judo, Karate, Sudoku, Turducken or any of the martially artistries. I’ve never killed a man with my stare, or given a trucker cancer of the face with my fists. I did carry a very heavy bureau (with the help of two others) and only complained intermittently of muscle trauma. Also, once, in a burst of adrenaline, I lifted three reference books at once, pausing only for a refreshing iced tea. When my neighbor threatened to tear out my victory garden, as it was encroaching on his lawn, I took no guff from him. I promised to take care of it, but I never did. And still, whenever he brings it up, I swear to have it remedied forthwith, and yet I do not remedy it anywith. The garden and I both remain victorious.
Now a word on sexual prowess. I’ve got it in spades, to be sure, but the ladies should be aware of what has been exaggerated, and what has most definitely not, before they embark upon sexual relations with me. I don’t want to get too salacious here, so I’ll address the fallacies and leave the rest to your sordid and no doubt accurate imaginations. To start, there have been whisperings of a certain technique at which I am an expert, which involves twirling an umbrella, clenching and unclenching my buttocks and a vaguely German accent. This is not a sexual technique; these are brief descriptions of deleted scenes from Robocop. Also, there’s a (mis)quote attributed to me I’d like to clarify. I have never said, “Foreplay is like a rodeo, which explains the strategically-placed barrels.” I would never say that! What I said was foreplay is like a rodeo clown, which makes a lot more sense. I was more specific in my analogy.
Lastly, I wanted to set the record straight on a few miscellanies. Yes, I was on the Yankees, and I did promise a sickly child that I would hit a home run for him, but he died before I went up to bat, so I didn’t bother. My nicknames were the Splendid Sliver and The Almost as Big Unit. I did lie when I said Cary Grant would be perfect to play me in a movie based on my life, the correct answer is in fact Little Richard. It is true I can hold my breath for up to five weeks, but it’s untrue that I have ever demonstrated this; I’ve chosen not to show off. And finally, I am humbled by the countless books that have been erroneously credited to me, under the assumption that I had ghostwritten them. While I’d love to have been able to do such a thing, I’ve found it highly difficult to ghostwrite, because I just cannot get the eyeholes right. Perhaps someday, in fact, it may become next year’s resolution. At any rate, I hope this dispels any rumors you may have heard, and reinforces any beliefs you have about me. Mark Twain once said, “A lie travels halfway around the world before the truth has put on its shoes.” Consider this, then, a truth shoehorn, or a truthhorn. And never forget the immortal words of Thor, who said, “I’m immortal, dammit, stop poking me with that thing.” These words are truly words with which to keep it real.