Admissions

Three minor things I do not shy away from, when confronted, though I tend to omit them in polite conversation with complete strangers.

• I do not think much of the movie The Sandlot.  I don't dislike it.  It's not a bad movie.  It just never made any particular impression on me.  I've never really understood the fervor with which its adherents stand by.  I'm not knocking it, because I have my own sacred cows, for sure.  I'd long held that maybe I was just the wrong age when the movie came out.  My sister loves this movie.  LOVES THIS MOVIE.  Probably more than she loves me.  She was of an age with the kids in the movie, at the time the movie came out.  I tend to think Goonies and Explorers hit the same sort of note for me, a few years earlier, for a lot of the same reasons.
• I am uncomfortable with the use of the adjective "savory," when describing a dish.  I am even less comfortable with other folks using the adjective, wielding it like a kid who's found a sword and waves it wildly because they've seen it on tv.  It seems too many things go into the word.  Sweet, sour, salty, I'm right with you.  Savory just doesn't work for me.  Seems too subjective.  Also seems like a word people hear on cooking shows and then use themselves to seem smart.  But then, maybe they do understand, and I don't, and this fact is what I am most uncomfortable with.
• Over the course of several conventions, I made it my mission to get a picture of myself and Gary Coleman, without paying the exorbitant Gary Coleman fee.  I was never successful.  I got a good picture of Coleman, while trying to catch my mug in the shot, too.  If you look at it a certain way, it looks like Gary Coleman is peering into a giant ear.  (A certain way might involve lots of alcohol).  I am not proud of my quest.  Gary's been dead 5 years, this year.  Time flies, don't it?