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Not to Brag, But I'm Actually Pretty Humble

2/16/2020

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1,000 Reasons I'm Going To Hell is a blog series that explores my life as a non-believer in a believer's world. I'll share stories of everyday interactions with eternal consequences. Whether it's making my mom cry, shocking an unsuspecting nun or staring down a power-hungry pastor, I'll share all my flawed moments for your judgment. You can laugh with me, set me straight or put me on your prayer list. Just, please, don't tell God where to find me.

Reason #99 I Am An Egotist

Starting out, I never thought of myself as having an ego. To be honest, I always had kind of the opposite problem. I cared so much about what everyone else thought, I generally let myself get run over. 

That is, until I sat behind a microphone for the first time.

It was in college. I was studying broadcasting. Specifically, radio. An excellent choice with a bright and unending future.

Something about the microphone brought out a power in me. Some might say beast. (No one would say artist.)

I didn't really notice it at first. But, it was there. A confidence. And, it quickly grew.

The beast really came out in my first radio job. I was hired and handed a hosting job. Start time: 5 minutes after the job interview. Ironically, I was to be the evening sports talk show host (and, later, morning DJ) for a small-town Christian radio station. (Ironic, because I was no more a Christian then than I am now. But, I would bring sunshine to 10s of people every morning for the better part of a year, before moving to bigger small things.)

As host of said talk show, I had free reign. And, apparently, I wanted to scorch some earth. I wouldn't go so far to say I was a shock jock. That could never be me. But, compared to the version of myself up to that point in life, I was at least a bad case of static electricity. I had --- ego.

I sounded confident. I felt confident. I was like a driver on the freeway, flush with a certain anonymity, daring people to cut me off, simply for the chance to throw a bird. 

(Again, not that I'd every throw a bird. Not me. But, for someone who still struggles to make a restaurant choice in a party bigger than one, I was amazingly selfish.)

I had opinions. I would challenge any takers. I would scoff at people's ignorance.

Of course, when I turned off the mic... I was a walking apology. Was I too strong? Did I upset my cohost? Basically, I was back to me.

Still, I had discovered a different side of myself. Just a tad bit of a dark side.

I eventually quit that job -- a story for another day that involves me being accused of stealing my own golf clubs (spoiler alert: I didn't.)

I moved on to other radio jobs. Some required more ego than others, but the mic always provided the strength.

To this day I try to tap into a bit of that ego. It's probably not a good idea. I'm probably a better person without it. But, I like the strength. I like knowing, and being able to say: I want Arby's. (Just kidding, nobody says they want Arby's.)

I like my ego, though I know I shouldn't. Sometimes, I wish it were bigger. 

And, yes. I'll have to answer for that.

So, if, someday, we're both "down south," and you see me chomping on a roast beef sandwich in the only restaurant available in hell, just nod. Please, don't hand me a microphone. It will only make things worse.
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"Nice Ox."

2/12/2020

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1,000 Reasons I'm Going To Hell is a blog series that explores my life as a non-believer in a believer's world. I'll share stories of everyday interactions with eternal consequences. Whether it's making my mom cry, shocking an unsuspecting nun or staring down a power-hungry pastor, I'll share all my flawed moments for your judgment. You can laugh with me, set me straight or put me on your prayer list. Just, please, don't tell God where to find me.

Reason #24 I Covet

Last week we covered one of the seven deadly sins. I probably should have ranked it higher, as the term "deadly sins" does suggest a bit of karmic importance. But, as I said, gluttony just ain't that big an issue for me.

Still, there's only seven of them, and I should have ranked it higher. That in mind, I've run this week's "sin" up the list. Not because it's a HUGE problem for me, but because God deemed it important enough to carve it into stone. If I remember correctly (Google? I don't need no stinkin' Google), God even thought so much of it, he made a pretty big show about delivering this particular set of instructions: casting Charlton Heston and dropping some cash on production values (that burning bush is a definite Old Testament highlight.)

This week we're talking about one of the 10 Commandments.  

Specifically, #10 on God's greatest hits list: Thou shalt not covet your neighbor's wife, or his manservant, or his maidservant, or his ox, or his ass, or anything that is your neighbor's.

As I was reading through this list of spiritual no-no's, I was feeling pretty good about myself.

Don't care about his wife. Happy with mine, thank you very much.

He doesn't have a manservant, nor a maidservant.

We're clear on the ox thing. Though, if he did have an ox, I might have a problem.

His ass is his. I've got my own.

It's not until we get to the final unfairly broad phrase that problems arise: "or anything that is your neighbor's." Damn. I can't want the quad runner? Or, the kayak? Not the lake house, the 950-cc motorcycle OR the jet ski? That's rough.

It's not like I'm desperate for any of them. I, too, could have a kayak I never use. A 950-cc motorcycle is just a bad idea for me. I'm not sure his jet ski even starts, and the quad runner doesn't even have brakes. (Sure, that makes it MORE exiting. For a short spell anyway. Still, it's not a sin-inducing item.)

Funny thing is... we're golfing buddies. And, what does he tell me all the time? "Man, you got it going on. Living the good life over there."

He's right.

I'm happy with what I have. And, I'm happy I've got a neighbor who will gladly lend me anything he has. It's the perfect scenario.

But, what if he gets a pool table? And, what if he puts that pool table in his living room? 

Those two things happen, I'm cooked. Put me on the rotisserie and call our fiery friend. 'Cause I'm definitely gonna covet.


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The Building Blocks of a Perfect Binge

2/4/2020

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1,000 Reasons I'm Going To Hell is a blog series that explores my life as a non-believer in a believer's world. I'll share stories of everyday interactions with eternal consequences. Whether it's making my mom cry, shocking an unsuspecting nun or staring down a power-hungry pastor, I'll share all my flawed moments for your judgment. You can laugh with me, set me straight or put me on your prayer list. Just, please, don't tell God where to find me.

Reason #323 I'm A Glutton

Gluttony. One of the seven deadly sins. Not to be confused with gluteny, which, in California, might get you banned, but won't send you to hell. And, in Kansas, actually gets you celebrated.

Gluttony. Not a problem I'm generally associated with -- hence the lower placement on my list of 1,000. I have my moments, of course. Most of them donut related, and a few of them already documented in this space. 

But, this weekend I had a definite gluttonous moment. (Seriously? Spell check didn't bang me for gluttonous? Awesome.) Super Bowl weekend. My team in the game. Go big or go home. I went big.

I generally attempt to eat well. Generally. And, sometimes, I even succeed. Sometimes. But, there are foods I try very hard to avoid. Foods so toxically bad for me, even I can't ignore. One of these super bad foods happens to be my favorite food item of all time. It comes conveniently shaped for maximum flexibility. Its brick form can be melted into a golden, cheesy goodness or, given the passage of enough time (say, one week) can instead be used to build small buildings, like a doghouse, or a shed. 

I'm talking about Velveeta, of course -- the cheese food that pairs so perfectly with the equally-artificial Dorito. (Nacho cheese, if done correctly.)

Velveeta. The cheese food that's so toxic, it doesn't come with an expiration date, it comes with a half-life printed right there on its protective metal shell.

It's delicious, of course. The fact that it can also serve as an alternative fuel source for the Mar's mission is purely bonus.

I'm not saying that Velveeta is bad for you, but, once I finished my gluttonous evening, and time came for me to toss out the mere spoonfuls of leftover rubbery goodness... I refused to put it down the garbage disposal. Into my system, okay. Into my home's plumbing system? That's where I drew the line.

Yes, I ate damn near an entire block of Velveeta in 3 hours. Paired with a full, party-size bag of nacho cheese Doritos. (Plus some popcorn -- two flavors, regular nacho chips, two bowls of chili and a couple bottles of Gatorade to maintain my strength and prevent cramping.) It was undoubtedly gluttony. I still have a healthy orange glow. 

But, it was the Super Bowl. MY Super Bowl. And, I prevailed.

Will a single block of Velveeta send me to hell? I don't know. But, if it does, I'll be thankful for one thing: it should be hot enough down there that I won't have to make every-10-minute runs to the microwave to keep my food source at the perfect level of "molten."
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    1,000 Reasons I'm Going To Hell 
    A blog by Paul Knauer

    Screenwriter, humorist and generally all-around good guy Paul Knauer's spiritual fate has been determined. He knows it because the world keeps reminding him.

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