Amazing Person #1

I have a very dear friend who lives in Chicago. He is truly one of the coolest people I've ever met. I'm going to give him a nickname here, but I have to tell you a little bit about him first. He and I met through a mutual friend and hit it off instantly. He is one of those people that can instigate bouts of side-splitting laughter in me easier than most...not that it's difficult for anyone, mind you (I'm a giggler), but he's just one of those people that is funny without really even trying. On top of his sheer talents as an accidental comedian, he has quite a story.



My friend has a genetic condition called bilateral acoustic neuromas or NF2. This condition began effecting him in his 20's and, at first, presented few problems as I understand it. Eventually though, he had to undergo surgeries to remove tumors and cysts around the base of his brain. The first signs of this condition presented themselves as hearing problems, and as a result of the condition as well as the surgeries, he has now lost the majority of his hearing, but that would NEVER slow him down. This guy has a successful career in marketing, is married to an equally amazing woman (also equally funny, of course), and has 3 beautiful children.

For the purposes of this blog, said dear friend is hereby nicknamed Loud & Clear or LC for short. LC would totally appreciate the humor in that name for the sake of its irony, but that's only one reason I think it works for him. Though he can barely hear what I'm saying most of the time and we hardly ever see each other since I moved away from Chicago, he's one of those people that just gets me and my humor. I think we have a mutual appreciation for each other's funny-factor, though I would say mine is FAR inferior to his. We have been known to trade emails that would make little sense to anyone else, but we find each other so funny that we just go back and forth as long as we can until one of us (usually me) just can't think of anything else funny to say. There is a little "funny pressure" in this friendship, but I'll take it considering the quality laughs we have shared.

LC and I don't get to catch up as much as I would like, but I have saved a lot of those emails. That is my go-to stash when I'm having a bad day or just need a giggle. No matter how many times I read them, laughs are guaranteed.

Here's a little email banter we had a while back. For it to make sense (or at least as much sense as possible), you need to know that we have a mutual appreciation for "The Office" and more specifically, we both love Dwight. As such, we also love quoting Dwight as frequently as possible. Another note is that LC HATES the term 'HOTlanta'. Proceed...

*AJS is me cuz nicknames are just fun.*

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LC: How's Atlanta? I mean "hotlanta"....HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Whew! That's good stuff.
So anyway, I've now added "those are the money beets" to my everyday lexicon. It kills me every time and is an excellent way to quickly weed out the funny from the not-so-funny if you ever find yourself in a group of new people. Even if someone doesn't know the dwightness of the source, just the phrase "money beets" should be enough. It makes me want to start a band. People would throw beets on stage when we played, it would be just like a Bare Naked Ladies concert, only with more beets, of course...and fewer Canadians.

AJS: I'd like to play the tambourine and/or triangle in the band. I'm really good.

LC: We're actually auditioning cow-bellists all week. We can't seem to find anyone with that certain indefinable cow-tone that we're looking for. If you think your skills on the triangle are transferable then we'd love to hear you.

AJS: I see your dilemma. Good hand-held percussionists (that is to say, those that play handheld percussion instruments as opposed to very small drummers) are hard to come by. I believe I can fill this void. I'll have my people call your people.
WHAT THIS BAND NEEDS IS MORE COWBELL!!

LC:
"Hand-held percussionists"
That's the kind of stuff that makes me sad that you moved far away. I once developed a mad crush on a girl in high school because we were on a mission trip to a Choctaw Indian Reservation and passed a house with an old lawn-mower in the front yard displaying a sign that read "Small Engine Repair", to which she saw and responded "hey - we found the pediatrician!" You would have wanted her too.

AJS: Excellent Research on tiny drummers.
Did said mission trip take you to Alabama, by chance? If so, I think I know this repairman/pediatrician. He also sold fireworks. Pretty awesome. I mean seriously, where else can you get your weed eater (small engine family) serviced and shoot bottle rockets while you wait? Together at last.

LC: I think it was in Philadelphia, Mississippi, actually. But when you're from up here, Alabama and Mississippi are really the same place...and everything we learned about those states came from movies or shows like 'A Time to Kill' or 'Designing Women'. So needless to say, I've been aware that everyone in your general part of the country is an interior decorating/klansman, sweats a lot, and is often subject to unwelcome visits by either the NAACP or genial African-Americans named Anthony who drive deliver vans.
.*How could I compete with that?! And scene.
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I miss you, LC!! Let's banter again soon. :)