“Allow myself to introduce…. myself.” – Austin Powers

One of my favorite stories regarding the show Seinfeld was something that Jason Alexander had shared in an interview. His character, George Costanza really didn’t have an identity early on in the show. Then one day he was speaking with Larry David… co-creator of the show and the inspiration for George’s character. Jason complained that a planned scene they had prepared didn’t make sense to him. He told Larry that something like this would never happen, and even if it did… NOBODY would react like that. I’ll paraphrase Larry’s response to him: “Actually, that happened to me personally… and that is EXACTLY how I reacted to it!” After hearing this, Jason said that he finally understood the character of George.

This is one of the reasons that I enjoy reading blogs. I like the concept of the writer telling a story about themselves and what they do in a given situation, or even just what they write about. It helps me understand who they are as a person. It is the only avenue that will help me learn who they are without being in my life personally.

I also try to convey this concept in what I write. I want to share stories that have happened to me, and how I reacted to them. People that I know personally understand who I am because they know me. They live through my irreverent behavior and quirks and know how much I’ve been crapped on over the years. When I’d told people in my life that my new house was formerly a funeral home, several of them had said: “Only YOU, Pomeroy!”
In the Blogosphere, you only know things about someone that are given to you.

In this spirit, I wanted to write a list of random facts about me. This is with the hope you’ll learn a little more about who I am.

So, here you go:

My name was almost Chester Calvin Pomeroy III. I’m glad the ‘rents rethought that one. To think, my name is Jeff and I was picked on! If I was given that name, I might STILL be sitting in a gym locker!

I grew up in a welfare home in a questionable neighborhood with my mom and autistic sister. There were several winters without heat, and we’d gather around the oven to keep warm. There were many times before “check day” that we’d run out of food. We used to get bread & sugar from a local sources and have sugar sandwiches until the check or food stamps would come in. The sad thing is, I really used to LOVE them. I WONDER where my sweet tooth came from? Hmmm….

Our house was broken into once. Somebody came in to steal what they could, and they slashed up my mother’s bed to shreds. When I got older, I started leaving a baseball bat under my bed in the case this would happen again. To this day (In a nice neighborhood) I still keep my Louisville there. It’s a force of habit.

When I was a baby, my mother sang Beatles songs to me. I wonder if that’s why they became my obsession? I carried on that tradition with my children. Kate’s favorite song was “In My Life,” and Felix seems to enjoy “Golden Slumbers”. Fortunately, they don’t know what a terrible singer I am. My wife doesn’t have the same luxury, unfortunately for her.

I remember our toughest Christmas from my childhood. My mom was only able to get me a little red record player and 2 45’s to play on it. (Sidebar: The two records by the way, were The Beatles Yesterday/Act Naturally and Who Dey? Bruins in the case you were curious).
I was happy opening it but started to cry afterward because I thought that Santa didn’t like me, seeing that this was my only gift. I still feel bad about that, because I’ll never forget the look on my mother’s face after saying that through my tears.

In 5th grade, my favorite show was Star Blazers. Throughout the entire year, I drew different pictures of the Space Ship Argo:

After drawing a large group for myself, I started to draw them for my classmates. Why, I don’t know.

My nationality is Irish, French, British and Cherokee Indian. My great grandmother was a full blood Cherokee. The good news about that is that I tan well. I vaguely remember my grandmother sitting at the edge of her rocking chair belting away at her harmonica for me.

My sense of humor was born of two parents: Looney Tunes and the Marx Brothers. Most of the things that I think are funny is because of what I learned from those sources.

I started work when I was 13 years old. I told myself then that I didn’t want to live like we had been moving forward. Other than the summer of 1992, I’ve worked straight through from then until today. I know I’m a workaholic, and I know it’s not good for me. I have to be dragged away from my work, usually by my wife or daughter. I can’t help myself! As a matter of fact, I am usually working while I’m reading blogs/commenting on WordPress.

I must be the only person on Myspace stupid enough to have my real last name up for everyone to see. But in my defense, when I made my profile I thought I’d only be communicating with friends that know me outside of Myspace only. And most of them refer to me by my last name! I’ll make sure to explain that to the FBI after my identity is stolen. With my luck the ID thief will probably be a Nazi pedophile too. I can already see the headline on Newsweek.

I have OCD… And I estimated that I’m an annoying 7 on a scale from 1 to 10. For more details on my OCD, click here and weep. (For me)

Former Hall of Fame basketball player Wilt Chamberlain allegedly had sexual relations with 20,000 women. Me? I had 6.

I am primarily a long-term relationship guy, so that didn’t help my chances in competing with him. He died in 1999, and he’s still leading me 20,000 to 6! At 38 and married, I’m starting to think that I don’t have chance at catching him. However, I am convinced that I am kicking his ass in the masturbation category! After all, he always had women taking care of him with those numbers… How could he POSSIBLY have the time?

Advantage: Pomeroy.

To woo the girl who would end up being my second girlfriend, I sang “Reach Out I’ll Be There” in its entirety. I even ran behind her at the part when Levi Stubbs sang “Just look over your shoulder”. Lucky for me, it worked.

I never dumped anyone. I was dumped from every relationship that I’ve had. I guess I’m easily dumpable. They say rejection builds character, so that explains why I’m such a character.

I recently discovered that I haven’t cried since 1999, when my cat Rocket died. My wife told me a couple of weeks ago that she’s never seen my cry! I feel like I may be turning into a machine and it scares me. I think I’m due for another watch of Born Free. Or, maybe I’ll get audited again. That oughtta do it.

I am an enormous movie buff. I’ve seen thousands of movies, (You’d be surprised what kind of time you have not getting dates). When I was younger, I saw Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Wars each over 50 times.

My favorite film of all time is 2001: A Space Odyssey. I’ve seen that over 10 times now, and if you’ve seen it once you’ll know what an achievement that is. It’s a long movie, with not a lot of dialogue. I think that it’s a slow burn. A mix of special effects mastery, a prolific score and loaded with symbolism. One day I plan writing an essay on what I believe it to be about, for no other reason than my love and respect for it. I compare watching that to a female orgasm. It’s a complex puzzle that I look to solve with each opportunity.

I love music. I have over 1000 CD’s, and bought many more that are no longer with me. I listen to just about everything you can think of, finding something interesting in almost every genre. When I listen to music, my brain almost instantly splits up each instrument into separate units. It’s not unusual for me to listen to a song or classical piece over and over, taking turns listening to each separate instrument each time. I regret never learning how to play.

One of the best compliments I’ve ever gotten, and will never forget is from my friend who is a musician. I had lamented to him once that I’d wished that I was a musician. He replied: “You are a musician. You just never learned to play”.

I’m thinking in another life I am a bass player, either in a hard rock band or a jazz trio.

Many people tell me that I have a radio voice.

This is the Happy Book:

I’ve had this for 12-13 years or so. In it is every creative idea I’ve had in that time. I have a short screenplay in there. There are feature film ideas in it. I have songs that I’d written for the Dixie Prix, a mock country band I was in. I have notes for website ideas and short stories. When I’m driving I have paper near me, and whenever I think of something I write it down and put it in the Happy Book when I get home. I also “write” in the shower. I take long showers and I’m always thinking in there. I’ve written half of my stuff from a thought I had in the shower. After I dry off I run to the Happy Book and write it in there. If my house was burning down and my family was already safe, The Happy Book would be the first thing I would try to recover.

I like to drive in loops. If there is an equidistant return route from somewhere, I take it every time.

I drive a lot for work. It’s not unusual for me to do different voices to myself when I’m not on the phone. For instance, last week at different times I was Casey Kasem yelling at his producers, I was Johnny Carson twice, I was a cockney British guy, I was Jackie Mason, an Indian customer service rep yelling at “me” and I was Sean Connery’s James Bond getting in an argument with a parrot.

I hope you got something from this narcissistic post of mine. If you have a question for the Pomeroy, drop it in the comment box and i’ll be happy to answer. Especially if it’s uncomfortable.