When I was a teenager, I used to dream math equations. Believe me: It's even creepier than it sounds. It was like this giant white board in my head and an invisible hand would write things on the board. I'm not even sure that all of the math was right; sometimes, there would be signs there with which I was unfamiliar.
The worst part was that I would wake up exhausted, because my brain wouldn't shut off. Then, in the afternoon, in the locker room before practice, I'd have to listen as my teammates shared stories of the hot and nasty dreams they'd had (or, more probably, they wish they'd had), and all I could offer was, "Wow, I did this sexy vector analysis last night."
I guess I fancied myself a poor man's John Nash of A Beautiful Mind, although in my case, it would be A Mind Only a Mother Could Love.
You know how he could pick up patterns in a series of seemingly random numbers? Of course, director Ron Howard helped him by highlighting the numbers on the screen, but it was still a neat trick.
I, too, see patterns in numbers, and I've convinced myself that they're real. I've just had trouble convincing others. Maybe I'm just like that female dolt in Mean Girls who says, "My breasts can tell when it's going to rain. Actually, they can tell when it's raining. It's like I have ESPN."
Thankfully, the math dreams have faded with time. I actually still have them occasionally, but at my current age, I guess it's better than snakes or something out of an Ingmar Bergman film.
I do, however, still see patterns everywhere. My daughter, who has a master's degree in engineering, says that she can't see a bridge without thinking about trusses and stress distribution. And my nerd-boy/jock son pretty much lives inside a computer. Our family theme song is "Born to Be Wild."
Recently, I've been seeing patterns in words. I've always made jokes with acronyms, but lately, I've been going in the opposite direction. I'll see a name and try to make an acronym out of it. You see why I get invited to so many parties.
The other day, I was thinking about our beloved editor, Jimmy Boegle, who has been taking crap from me for the past couple of months over this graffiti cover story that ran in the Weekly. Some people thought it was way too kind to the glue-sniffing buttholes who drag our communities down. He said it showed them to be bad people, but then, we already knew that. I haven't gone in the office for a while, because he's been threatening to kick my butt. Jimmy's a large, young human being, while I'm just an old fat guy.
Nevertheless, I was driving to Phoenix the other day, and I thought, "Hmm, Boegle. Big Ol' Energetic Graffiti-Loving Entity." Made myself laugh, I did, so I continued on.
· Mike Stoops: Stop Taking Oklahoma's Offensive Plays Seriously.
· Sen. Jon Kyl: Knowledgeable, Yet Lousy.
· KGUN Channel 9 news anchor Guy Atchley: Another Television Clothes Hound; Loves Extra Yoga.
· Arizona Senator and Republican presidential hopeful John McCain: Making Complete Collapse Absolutely Imminent, No?
· Departing City Councilman Jose Ibarra: Let me see, many people think he's an Insolent, Brash, Argumentative, Rabble-Rousing A ... . Sorry, I just couldn't seal the deal. Couldn't think of anything for that last "A."
· Fellow City Councilman Steve Leal: Leaves Early, After Lunch.
· Secretary of State Ms. Rice: Ridiculously Incompetent Condoleezza Emerges.
· United States Vice President (at least I think he's the vice president) Dick Cheney: Can Halliburton Expedite New Energy Yields?
· Local radio and TV traffic guru Allen Kath: Knows About Traffic Headaches. Although, for some unknown reason, I also came up with the alternate Kristi Ann Tedesco Hater. I have no idea if that's the middle name of the KVOA Channel 4 news anchor, but she kinda looks like a Kristi Ann. I'm just wondering why the hate from Allen.
· Tucson Mayor Bob Walkup: Worries About Laxatives Kept Under Pressure. Such is his governance style.
· Columnist and my radio co-host Emil Franzi: Frequently Rants Against New Zoning Ideas.
· Tucson City Manager Mike Hein: Have Every Intern Neutered. I meant to ask him about this secret agenda of his, but he didn't show up for basketball on Sunday. It seems rather diabolical, but he's got a great track record, so maybe we should just trust him on this one.
· President George W. Bush: Oh, where to begin? Buried Under Stupid Habits. Brother Usurps State's Honor. Bungles Unusually Simple Heroics. Big Ugly Statesmanship Hole.
Anyway, I don't want to be the one who has all the fun, and Lord knows, this is FUN! So, whoever can come up with the coolest (all right, the meanest) acronym for Danehy, I'll treat that person to lunch at my favorite Mexican food place, Tania's. Just send it to my e-mail address. If there is more than one good one, I'll treat more than one person. Have fun, but don't talk about my mama. That woman's a saint.