Ice that doesn’t need breaking
Oh, great. One of those party game things. Well, since Eric is a good friend, I’ll play along at least partially.
1. Let others know who tagged you.
2. Players start with 8 random facts about themselves.
3. Those who are tagged should post these rules and their 8 random facts.
4. Players should tag 8 other people and notify them they have been tagged.
Just what the world needs–another excuse for people to share private details that no one really needed to know about. But okay, let’s see….
- My parents met when they were playing in a cover band together. My mother played drums and my father bass; when I was born, they named me after the Beatles’ rhythm section. (My middle name is Richard, and Sean is, of course, the Irish form of John.)
- Those who find my voluble Yank patriotism and devotion to the English side of my family annoying may be pleased to know that the gods of mischief have found a way to stick it to me: People I meet are constantly telling me I “look French.”
- Those who don’t tell me I look French tell me I look like Matthew Fox on Lost. I take it as a compliment, as I know it’s intended to be, but for the life of me I don’t see the resemblance.
- I was brought up in a very conservative Christian sect and, directly out of high school, went to the small Bible college it ran in the East Texas woods. The atmosphere was friendly and upbeat, but classical-liberal skepticism was verboten (unless trained on the theory of evolution and other such intellectual tools of Satan, of course). I lasted six weeks before I had to get the hell out of there for the sake of my sanity.
- I don’t seem to have the personality to succumb to the “addictive” allure of sites like Facebook. A friend invited me to sign up last week, so I did. Or tried to. It turned out I already had an account. Another friend had invited me to join some time before; I’d signed up and then not only not gone back but completely forgotten about it.
- I grew up with parents who went to a local dairy farm to buy raw milk, went to another local farm to buy eggs, and had a vegetable garden most years. My mother baked all our bread. To this day, I find few things more irritating than food made with mediocre ingredients.
- Well, okay–I do have a major weakness for Burger King.
- For the love of Pete, one more? Uh, the first album I ever bought with my own money was Beauty and the Beat by the Go-go’s.
As far as tagging other people goes, I’m with Connie. But if there are eight people reading who’d like to share eight facts about themselves, comments are open. Knock yourselves out.
As you know, Burger King has returned to Japan.
You may now change citizenship.
You don’t look French. You look Welsh.
Adrian:
They still haven’t reopened the outlet in Shibuya, have they? I’m reserving judgment until then. What’s the point in lazily indulging in fast food if it takes effort to get to it?
Connie:
That was uncalled for.
There’s a great article in the current issue of AERA English interviewing the new president of Burger King Japan.
In it, they ask B.K.J. why they left Japan in the first place.
It was beautiful spin. Tony Snow would be proud. Something along the lines of “McDonalds was lowering their prices and we were afraid that we couldn’t lower prices without sacrificing quality.”
I know of nobody that makes their fast food selection either in Japan or in the U.S. based on price. Am I wrong?
Hmm. McDonald’s was, in fact, getting a lot of attention about a half-decade ago for having come up with a very good strategy for risk-management–hedging its beef, IIRC, and Hoovering up non-perishables available at low prices at the time. So who knows? There may be some truth to the statement, though as a main consideration I agree it sounds suspect.
It’s a shame they had to sell out to Lotteria, though. Nastiest fast food ever.