The Enemy Within - A Tale of Conspiracy

Much too busy rebuilding my computer, I've not written any new blogs.

Thus, I've chosen to make a confession as I rejoin the living: I talk to and battle with inanimate objects and have done so since I was a child.

Now, relax, this is not a rehash of Toy Story or Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite. I'm not even limiting my confession to golf clubs, tennis rackets, and the occasional hammer which I've been know to yell at and then heave when my Irish got disturbed.

Sadly, I have friends who are willing to testify that I have on occasion obtained further distance with my driver than the golf ball I mishit. Even my putter would hide itself behind my golf umbrella rather than chance an unscheduled trip up against a tree.

No, this malady I have within me goes much deeper than those childish exploits. Now, mainly I confine it to screaming at the computer or TV which ,in turn, scares the dog as she tends to internalize my anger.

I have always battled against the the so-called inanimate objects around me . I've always tried to co-exist, but, I fully believe they have a life all of their own and chose me as their enemy.

When the closet hangers I sought decided they were not ready "to come out of the closet" they would purposely tangle themselves around another hanger or a piece of clothing. The harder I pulled the more entangled they became and in their anger to escape they occasionally damaged my clothes.

The peanut butter sandwich I enjoyed throughout my life - would frequently object to being consumed by me and would twist out of my grasp onto the newly cleaned kitchen floor -with the bread side always facing me.

Inanimate objects can become both jealous and possessive. If I attempt to hold more than three objects in my hand as I aim my front door key toward the lock -one object will always squirm
free, jump down and run away from the other faithful ones which remain.

Shirt button holes will not accept my buttons. Soap will jump into my eyes should I try to steal a glance while shampooing my hair. Toilets will overflow when I flush them in my bosses home.

Restaurant forks will jump out of my hand. Toilet paper will fight amongst themselves to become entangled on my shoes. Cloth napkins will attach themselves to my lap when I attempt to get up.
I have struggled with nails that refuse to be hammered, screws that would not allow themself to be screwed and wrenches that will not attach themselves to anything. No amount of pleading, cajoling, or screaming will keep them from their appointed position. Not even my challenge of "best two out of three?" will tempt them.

I have actually had snowblowers that worked for my neighbors but refused to engage at my command - and I was their owner..

I had a Cadillac that I called White Wind and encouraged to enter merging Pennslvania traffic quickly only to hear it pause as if to ask, "You really expect me to jump in front of those semi's?"

I'm telling you these objects have a mind of their own and at night get together outside on the lanaii to plan how they will torment me the next day. Some of these terrorists have even committed to suicide missions - like 2 1/2 inch bolts that have sworn to resist even if their threads are stripped.

Some people talk to plants. I am known to beg my tools by muttering, "c'mon - give me a break!"But, nothing will dissuade them.

Recently all my clothes got together and made a pact to shrink when I attempted put them on

So, what's a guy to do? I'll never win. I end up doing magic tricks for the dog.