Post something interesting about yourself

Fun post! I have a few quick ones..

We moved from the country to a yuppie suburb (by my standards) in 1982 when I was eleven. I was getting in fights constantly so, against everyone's better judgement, my dad enrolled me in Korean Tae Kwon Do to teach me discipline. I achieved my black belt during my junior year of High school and then quit to focus on football. At 53 and fat, I can still do a full splits among other less notable flexible magic, much to my 10 year old daughter's dismay, amusement and amazement.

I sacked Elvis Grbac in a high school state championship football game.

I received a football scholarship to Purdue as a nose tackle but my mom didn't want me to play, so I stayed local and went to Youngstown State University where I met my future wife of 27 years while bouncing in a Mafia owned bar that a then TV show called Hard Copy named "The Most Violent College Bar in America".

I have spent at least one night in some way shape or form in 46 US States & The District of Columbia.

I met Negan (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) standing in the crowd for an outdoor Star Wars show at Hollywood Studios earlier this year. He was there with his family and I was "that guy" enough to ask for a picture, I'm not normally "that guy" but hey, it was Negan.




I'll stop but if you'll indulge me, My Uncle passed away 3 weeks ago at 83 and he led a very cool and notable life. We were very close and some of you may have met him at my table for Blade Show 2018 and 2019 when he and my Aunt would drive down from Ohio and camp in their motor home and hour drive away from Cobb so they could help me at my table.

Charlie Pirtle was born in a dirt floor cabin the son of a Share Cropper in Tennessee and when he retired he was Dean of Faculty and Foreign Affairs at Georgetown University, having been the boss of countless notable public figures such as as Henry Kissinger and Madeleine Albright. He is recognized as one of the foremost figures on International Boundaries and International Affairs and has written several books used in those areas. He retired in 2005 and bought a rural home on 30 acres of land in Ohio about 8 miles from me.

One of my favorite recent memories is when my daughter came home this year during Women's History Month excited that they had learned all about Mother Teresa. I told her that back in the 80's Uncle Charlie (who she loved dearly) had been the personal emissary for Mother Teresa while she was doing a tour of the US and was at Georgetown, the older among us may remember when this happened. Of course she didn't believe me as 10 year olds are prone to do, so a quick call and a text later I had the photo of him sitting next to her (directly behind) from the USA Today. She couldn't wait to take it to school the next day to brag about him to her friends and teacher.



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Since holding one's breath was mentioned in the OP;

My parents started us on regular swimming lessons fairly young. One of the games that we commonly played, was to have everyone become standing pylons that we had to swim around, staying submerged the whole time.

As we got better, we'd stand so the swimmer had to make a lot of twists and turns to navigate the 'course', and make it longer and longer. Didn't realize at the time, that the game was designed to train dynamic apnea.

As I continued swimming, I managed to get to the point where I could swim the width of an Olympic pool (25m) 3 consecutive laps underwater. Try as I might, I never did get to 4 breadths.

I also began training static apnea (breath holding). I got to 5:58, and was pushing to break 6 minutes, when within a short span of time, the World Records were reset past 7 minutes, and reset again, pushing them well beyond my reach, at which point, I just went, "What... the..." and gave it up. Never did hit the 6 minute mark. No idea how long I can hold my breath for, nowadays.

In case folks didn't know, the current World Record for remaining underwater on a single breath, is held by Budimir Sobat. Those particular rules allow for hyperoxygenation by breathing pure oxygen for up to 30 minutes prior to the attempt. He held his breath for TWENTY-FOUR minutes and 37 seconds 😮

https://www.guinnessworldrecords.co...-for-almost-25-minutes-breaking-record-660285


The WR without supplemental oxygen is still superhuman, at 11 minutes 54 seconds by Branko Petrovic.
 
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I can stick multiple magnets to my left hand from souvenirs leftovers from an IED in Iraq in 2004.

My kids thought it was great

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And the piece that was in my thigh for a few years before it started to ….migrate.

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I’m 46 and was a psych major until I found out people suck, so I dropped. Now I have a small, somewhat successful home renovation business here in this shitshow called Southern California and people still annoy me.

Back on the 6th of March 2007, I stopped a child abduction in my old neighborhood.
I was leaving the house on my way to work when I noticed a metallic red Ford Escort slowly following a child down the street right next to the community park. The moment he stopped, got out and tried to grab the kid, I sandwiched his car in then got out and apparently beat on him until the Sheriff’s Department showed up.
Come to find out he was my neighbors estranged ex-husband that had a major meth problem and lost all rights to see his kids. Top tier POS.

I’m left handed.

I don’t like IPA.

I kinda like Magenta even though pink and purple are disgusting to me. 🤔
 
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I am 53 years old now. At 12 , breakdance had just arrived in the Netherlands and was as popular as can be. Off course I went to lessons with a schoolbuddy of mine. We once joined a talent show with our crew and became 2nd.
At 11 years old I read the book, the art of survival, written by a German guy (Rudiger Nehberg) for me it was a life altering moment and one of the reasons I dwell on this forum.
 
I've had several experiences of this sort...but here are a couple...

When I was 9 1/2 or so, my grandfather was dying of leukemia which was kept from me...I had no idea he was ill nor that he was in a hospital in the Bronx for a few days. As I was getting ready to leave for school, 4th grade as I recall, and as I was walking out the door the phone rang. I turned back to my mother and said "Grandpa's dead". It was my grandmother calling to say my grandfather had passed. (He and I were very close. They lived in the Bronx, and we were in Queens.)

When I was a senior in high school, one of my sisters was just starting junior high. The school was on the same huge piece of property where my high school and Queens College were all built.

I was walking home with my best friend and as we passed the junior high, I was telling my buddy that my sister had just started there. As I looked at the building trying to imagine where she was beyond the building's exterior, I turned to my buddy and said "She's not in there. Something happened."
I told him I had to go and ran home the mile or so to our apartment.

When I got home I ran up the stairs and yelled to my mother, "Where's Linda, what happened to Linda?". My mother said "How did you know?"
Turned out that she was hit by a car that morning walking to school, but was only slightly injured, but enough to have to be taken home for observation.
Nobody at my high school knew her, nor was anything reported, as it was not something that happened near the school.


I've had more than a few instances like this...some even more strange and which I won't get into here.


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On the personal front, in the mid 1990's I was presented with an OLEO Award, (Outstanding Law Enforcement Officer of the Year), by the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of Florida for a complex investigation, (and subsequent arrests), targeting an international narcotics smuggling organization, as well as the CIA's, (and a local law enforcement officer's) role in their operation. A portion of the case was covered on the news show, "60 Minutes".



 
Other than knives, I don't really have an addictive personality in the traditional sense, to the point where my wife encourages me to drink ... however, this knife thing is my 3rd addiction of this type. It started with high-end audio in my early 20s, when I ended up building my own tube pre- and post-amps and marble speakers (our basement was completely covered in marble dust when they were done). I lost all of this stuff in my divorce. 2nd was classic cameras. I still have about a dozen Leicas, plenty of lenses (> 50?), and lots of other related stuff. I do fix 50+ year old mechanical cameras and lenses - every so often I still find a tiny screw or two in my office ....

One of the loudest noises that I ever heard was when we attached a synchronous generator, fed by a small stream and turbine, to the Swiss power net, even though we tried to synchronize the phases properly.

My longest bicycle ride in one day was 400km (around 250 miles).

I have 30 patents.

I smoke. I started when I was 34. Never had a cigarette before.

I wish I knew in my early 20s what I know now, about women in particular.

PS: cool thread.
 
I've had several experiences of this sort...but here are a couple...

When I was 9 1/2 or so, my grandfather was dying of leukemia which was kept from me...I had no idea he was ill nor that he was in a hospital in the Bronx for a few days. As I was getting ready to leave for school, 4th grade as I recall, and as I was walking out the door the phone rang. I turned back to my mother and said "Grandpa's dead". It was my grandmother calling to say my grandfather had passed. (He and I were very close. They lived in the Bronx, and we were in Queens.)

When I was a senior in high school, one of my sisters was just starting junior high. The school was on the same huge piece of property where my high school and Queens College were all built.

I was walking home with my best friend and as we passed the junior high, I was telling my buddy that my sister had just started there. As I looked at the building trying to imagine where she was beyond the building's exterior, I turned to my buddy and said "She's not in there. Something happened."
I told him I had to go and ran home the mile or so to our apartment.

When I got home I ran up the stairs and yelled to my mother, "Where's Linda, what happened to Linda?". My mother said "How did you know?"
Turned out that she was hit by a car that morning walking to school, but was only slightly injured, but enough to have to be taken home for observation.
Nobody at my high school knew her, nor was anything reported, as it was not something that happened near the school.


I've had more than a few instances like this...some even more strange and which I won't get into here.


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One of my favorite lines/quotes, ever since reading it in Middle School:
“There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

I’ve recounted this experience before in other forums, but I can’t recall if I’ve ever posted it in this forum.

My parents loved to travel, and when my brother and I were old enough, they began taking us along.

Back in the 80s, we had an upcoming trip to Singapore. One part of the trip that I was aware of, was a day trip to Sentosa Island. Singapore itself, is a small island, that’s connected to the southern tip of West Malaysia by a causeway/bridge. Sentosa Island is an even smaller island off the coast of Singapore.

Back in the 80s, they’d begun the plan to turn Sentosa into a full blown resort island, and there were 2 ways to get there from the main island; a ferry across the channel, or a cable car.

Some time before this trip that I’d been eagerly anticipating for months, I had a nightmare that literally woke me up in a cold sweat.

In my dream, we’d boarded one of the cable cars for Sentosa Island. I’d been in cable cars before, but hadn’t even seen photos of this particular one in Singapore, but in my dream, the cars were painted different, bright colors; blue, red, yellow, green etc.

As we were midway across the channel, high above the water, something struck the cable, knocking off 2 of the cable cars. I remember seeing the first one falling, then the car we were in falling. The last thing I remembered was falling towards the water far below.

When I woke up, I could vividly recall the nightmare, and even the colors of the 2 cable cars that fell. It felt so real.

Still shaking, I went downstairs and told my mom about the nightmare. She reassured me, and said, “It’s just a nightmare. You’ve just been anxious and excited, thinking about the upcoming trip, and your mind made up the dream”. I told her, “But it felt so real…”.

By the time we actually left on the trip a couple months later, I’d pretty much forgotten that nightmare, that was… right until we actually headed towards the cable car station to go to Sentosa Island.

As we approached the station, and I could see the cables and cable cars, the dream immediately popped back to mind, as I realized that the cable cars looked exactly as they did in my dream. The same size/type, the different colors of individual cable cars…

I began sweating again, as the memory of the nightmare came flooding back.

The closer we got to the front of the line, the worse my anxiety grew.

When we finally reached the front of the line to board the next cable car, I realized that the car that was about to pull up, was the exact same color as the one we’d boarded in my dream.

I grabbed my mom’s arm, and whispered in her ear, “Mom! The dream! Remember my dream!!! That’s the same color as the one we were in, that fell in my dream!”

She realized how genuinely freaked out I was, and asked the ride attendant if we could step to the side for a moment, and let the people behind us board first.

My dad (who was a skeptic), who I hadn’t mentioned the dream to, asked, “What’s this about?”, to which my mom replied, “I’ll tell you later”.

We stood to the side as we let the other folks board first, then as the next car began to pull up, my mom asked, “How about this one? Is this one OK?”, and I whispered, “No! That’s the color of the other one that fell!”, so we continued standing to the side, as we allowed other people to board.

As the next car began pulling up, my mom asked again, “What about this one? Is this one OK?”, and I shakily replied, “Yeah, I think so”.

We boarded it, and the entire ride across the channel, I whiteknuckled the metal rail I was holding onto.

Of course, nothing happened.

On the cable car ride back to the main island, the anxiety was much lower, and the first car to pull up, wasn’t one of the ‘bad’ colors. Again, nothing happened.

It wasn’t until ~6 months after the trip, that while watching the news, a snippet came on about a cable car disaster in Singapore.

A ship with a tall derrick had mistakenly been allowed into the channel at high tide, and the derrick had struck the cables, knocking off 2 of the cable cars into the water. The occupants were killed. The report actually mentioned the colors of the cars that had fallen. The same 2 colors in my dream (I don’t remember what the colors were anymore, and couldn’t find any mention of them in online articles).

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Singapore_cable_car_crash

As with Blues Blues , I’ve had various other unexplainable incidents/experiences that tell me there are still things we don’t really know or understand.
 
My longest bicycle ride in one day was 400km (around 250 miles).
That's hardcore!!!

I've done just over 100 miles in a day a few times when I was a lot younger, with a group/peloton (which makes it a LOT easier, when you and the other riders take turns leading, and drafting).

How long did it take you from start to finish? Was it for competition, or just for the heck of it?
 
My wife's ass got pretty sore on our honeymoon. (We drove a GSXR1100 from MB all the way to Vancouver Island and back. Not exactly a touring bike.)
Yeah. Once my wife test rode pillion on an ST1100, my cruiser days were numbered. We rode from Miami to NC on a 750 Magna a couple times and it was no picnic for her back there with those pegs mounted so high and no wiggle room.
 
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