<Relieved this isn’t about Onanism.>

For all points x on the boundary of U (universe), d(x,H)=z (where H=Hatrack, z=infinity, H is a subset of U). Therefore, Hatrack is a center of the universe. It cannot be proven that it is uniquely the center, unfortunately.

<Doesn’t know any good riddles.>

They all fall a bit short as a quality 1,000th post –- not because the ideas weren’t sound, but because I couldn’t pull them off (if I could have proven Hatrack to be the only center of the universe, that would’ve been something). Kudos to Belle, Shlomo, celia60, Toretha, Zevlag, Tresopax, jehovoid, plaid, and KarlEd. So I’m gonna do something else. I’m gonna tell y’all about me, and you can ignore it at your leisure.

I was born in San Diego, CA (USA) on 02/17/1969, to a mother, father, older (obviously *smile*) sister and half-brother. My younger brother was born about two and a half years later, for the record.

Like the vicious bully Achilles, I was born with clubfoot, incredibly severe. I’m told that if it had been any worse at birth, they would have amputated my foot and fitted me with a prosthetic. I’m glad they didn’t. After three and a half years of surgeries every two months, numerous castings and recastings, the foot was healed enough that I could walk –- but was about three sizes smaller than the other foot. It started growing faster, in an attempt to catch up, but ended up (now) about a size-and-a-half smaller. Luckily, this is close enough that I no longer have to buy two pair of shoes every time I shop for them, but I still request two different sized shoes when I rent them for bowling, and get odd looks from the counter-person.

Nothing much interesting between there and high school, except that because of numerous repeated injuries, I received several prescriptions for prednozone, which I believe to have caused my explosive temper (steroid rage and all). Due to this temper, it’s somewhat necessary to keep me away from most board games (Yahtzee is really the only safe one, since I’m playing against dice rather than opponents). As it is, I was incredibly short-tempered and anxious during the Endercon trivia thing (and I’m glad that JaneX didn’t get as mad at me as I deserved, or that if she did she hid it well –- sorry, Sarah). Oh, and I quit reading entirely in fifth grade.

My high school (actually a secondary school covering 7th-12th grades) was interesting, because by my junior year I was one of the most well known people there. It was a Math-Science-Computer magnet school, so almost all the focus was on those subjects. A lot of you here know that I can hold my own (not Onanism) when it comes to math, but back in that day (before visual-anything existed as a language and OOP was just Alley's last name), I had run of the school computer system as well. I knew every language the school taught, several they didn't, and had even written my own language (SCOOP). So I was pretty much number one at two-thirds of the school’s specialties. Also, due to a combination of factors, the school had no sports teams –- until a group of us got together and forced one through by paying for all the equipment ourselves. So we had a club-level volleyball team (well, two teams –- JV and Varsity). I was starting varsity my junior year, and varsity team captain my senior year.

My junior year had a couple other things going on. One -– I was given the name Moose, by the person who later became my best man. I called him Dorfinkus Burf (a nonsensical name my younger brother often called anyone, including me), and he in response called me Moose. The other two people with us at the pizza parlor became named Yak Belch and Llama Barf. As you might guess, there is a last name that goes along with Moose –- one that hasn’t been revealed to many people. That can be the riddle of the Moose, but nobody is getting my first-born child for guessing it correctly.

Near the end of my junior year is when I seriously considered suicide, to a degree that I was sitting in a bathtub with a razorblade in hand. The more observant of you will probably notice that I’m still here, so no, I didn’t commit suicide. It was a really rough time for me, though -– the Science Olympiad national finals (yes, I was dorky enough to be on the team, and we took CA state) and the volleyball all-county finals were on the same weekend, and both teams wanted me. It was well-enough known that pretty much everyone I knew (and many I didn't) had an opinion on what I should do and why, and I felt torn apart by everyone. Well, everyone except my Mom. She just offered unconditional love, no matter how I decided. Thanks, Mom -- I love you.

The only thing of note in my senior year, really, began on December 13th. Becoming aware that I hadn’t applied anywhere for college, and knowing that deadlines were November 30th for pretty much everywhere, I spent the night in prayer (about 5 hours). Though I prayed about many things (not the least of which was confession of various things), my main prayer was "I’m blowing my life, doing it all wrong –- I can’t do it myself. Help me. Tell me where You want me to go. Tell me what You want me to do."

The next night I got a phone call from the dean/provost of the College of Creative Studies at UCSB, who offered me a $10,000 math scholarship. Yes, this is one of the pieces of evidence I have for the existence of God, though not one I expect anyone else to use. Yes, it can be explained away -– but I can’t/won't ignore it. Even if it were the only evidence I had, it would still be enough for me. Anyway, after three more missed deadlines, I was accepted at UCSB.

Through the end of my senior year, the name Moose was still only used for me by about seven or eight people. I was known more as Michael in person, and Barnabas by computer (yes, I was a computer nerd-dork, too). When I got to college, though, I introduced myself as Moose to a few more people. (Oh, and college was when I started reading again, because someone convinced me to give one more book a shot -– a book called Ender’s Game. I’ve been reading a lot since then.) Still more knew me as Michael, though, until the summer after my freshman year. That summer, I applied to be a junior-high camp counselor, and was accepted, and did three non-consecutive weeklong stints as counselor. Tell me, if you were a junior high boy, would you rather have a counselor named Michael, or one named Moose?

So Moose I was from then on. Everyone called me Moose. Until two summers later, when I went back to the camp, but full-time summer staff, instead of itinerant counselor. I fell for a girl (I did that quite frequently, actually), we began dating, we got serious. She preferred to call me Michael, since it sounded more grown up (she had a point, I’ll admit). So around her I was Michael, and everywhere else I was Moose. We tried to keep dating after the summer, but it was long-distance, and it sorta faded away. She broke up with me, I didn’t want to, but what choice did I have?

Several months later, she came for a surprise visit. I fell for her all over again, and two months later we were engaged. About two months after that, she and I were going to go to a weekend retreat on Catalina Island with the UCSB branch of Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship. At the time, I was treasurer for the group (which also made me registrar for the camp), and leader of the worship team (read: plays guitar). Two days before the camp, she wasn’t feeling well, and decided she wouldn’t be able to go (she had a very sensitive stomach, and the two-hour boat ride could indeed have been rather unpleasant). She got pretty upset with me because I didn’t cancel and stay with her -– enough that the next Wednesday night, she called off the engagement. This began my four days of hell.

I drove down to talk with her about it, and she wouldn’t come out of the house. I talked with her dad for a while, but then just started driving back to school. In North Hollywood, I fell asleep behind the wheel, and ran my best friend’s car into the center divider of the freeway. When I called to tell him about it, all he asked was "Are you ok?" That was the high point of these days. Anyway, I slept in the car for a few hours, then drove the car (listening to the "door ajar" bell, freezing because there was no longer a window in the door, and hoping the damaged tire didn’t blow) back to school, arriving in time to fail a history midterm. In the mail that day, I found out that the AP test I had taken in high school would only be worth 4 units, not the eight they had told me before, so I wouldn’t be graduating (I was taking 24 units at the time, too). My guitar got stolen. A friend invited me over to play backgammon, to get my mind off things. I went, we sat in the grass courtyard of her apartment complex, and my allergies kicked in so badly that I went to the emergency room. After having my eyes cleaned out and being given an antihistamine, I took the bus home -– and my wallet fell out of my pocket, never to be recovered. All this in a four-day period. Ugh.

Well, I was in shock for a while -– "Moose" had become a meta-person of sorts, one who was always cheerful -– and I couldn’t keep it up. But I had been Moose for so long that I didn’t really remember how to be Michael anymore. I dropped a few classes, stopped going anywhere for a little while. A friend invited me out for ice cream, and kidnapped me when I said no –- thank you, Beth. Another friend just talked with me, and helped me through this rough time, giving me alternate points of view so I didn’t spiral down into my own misery -– thank you, Scott.

So I came back to school the next fall, taking 11 units so I could graduate. This one quarter I overlapped at school with another particular student –- one Connie Carlson. You now know her by the name Squirrel. I talked her into going on a date with me. One date. Then we went our separate ways for quite a while. We went on date number two five-and-a-half years later. And about a year after that, we got married. Things happened in that five-year interim period, including my being stalked by an ex-girlfriend, but nothing of real import.

I could be much more specific about things happening after Squirrel and I got married, but most of the interesting things I’ve already spoken of here at Hatrack (especially Mooselet). But that’s a bit of my history – maybe not one that would deserve a speaking, but important to me. There were many other things at issue during these times (religion, politics, employment, etc.), but I’ve hit the things that can be explained in a (relatively) short time. And I'm sure there are important things that I have forgotten, and maybe they'll come up in conversation, when someone asks, "What are you thinking?"

So there it is –- a post much longer than I expect anyone to read. If you made it through, congratulations -– here’s a cookie. [Oracle voice] Smell good, don’t they? [/Oracle voice]

[Hoosier coach voice] I love you guys. [/Hoosier coach voice]

(then again, I'm probably only saying that because this one was so good)

<-- Will do this for his 1000 post!
(what am I now, 800?)

As it is, I'm just very glad to have met you and hope to do it in person some day.

You set the standard for "class act" among the men on this forum.

-Bob

(PS: and since you usually make each post count, your 1000 really surprised me. I would've guessed triple that).

PPS: and your uncharacteristic use of smileys did not go unnoticed!!!

You once again remind me that brilliant people can have really sucky situations in the midst of many interesting things happening. You remind me very much of my friend mike (except not 6'8").

At any rate, i find it hard envisioning an angry Moose (though i'm going to canada next week so who knos, maybe i'll see one up close ), particularly having met our moose, and noticing how incredibly -nice- he is. (funny i say that knowing that thats exactly what contributes to the anxiety and expectations of always having to be nice etc etc etc)

(I'm not a numbers person)

(I'm a people person)

I'm glad I know you even though we've never met in person.

Big hugs, you ole moose you.

First, I was perhaps unclear in the title of this thread. I said "Real" 1000th post because I had already posted this thread, and was clarifying that this was indeed the actual 1000th post, not just comments regarding it. I realize in retrospect that it could be read as belittling to others' 1000th posts, claiming mine was real and theirs weren't, and that was not even close to being in my mind at the time.

Second, I wasn't posting this to receive any adulation from you all. I do really appreciate the wonderful things some of you have said, though -- I was reading them to Squirrel last night, and got a little choked up at times. You guys really do mean a lot to me.

Third, it seems as though I focused on the negative things that happened in my life. That wasn't my intent -- I suppose they were perhaps more memorable than some other times. And although I sometimes feel a bit of regret about some of the choices I've made, looking back I probably wouldn't change a thing, because I wouldn't be who I am now -- and I'm pretty happy with who I am now. I intend to continue to learn, grow, and mature, but I appreciate the difficult times I've had, and I expect to have more of them. To quote Anna Kirkham (Saints/A Woman of Destiny), "I treasure my regrets. I worked so hard to earn them. They're all that makes my memories worth keeping."

My life has been filled with joy. From the times when I tugged at my godfather's coat around age four, and told him how many kids actually were running around (since he had exaggerated), to the joy of kissing my wife as she went off to work this morning, I have been happy.

I'm going to have to add more to this story, since I'm supposed to send some biographical information about myself to our host, Mr. Card, so that my namesake in his book will actually reflect a little bit of me. There's already way more information than he needs to create Michael Sloan, but Papa Moose begins later, when Mooselet was born, or perhaps earlier, when Squirrel said "I do."

Thank you all for letting me share with you. Any other comments you'd like to make will be welcome, since Connie and I decided last night to print out this entire thread, and place it in Carl's baby time capsule.

A couple other people I must mention -- Slash and monteverdi. Part of the reason I wrote this thread was based on remembering when Slash asked monteverdi to tell us a little about himself (I'm unable to find the thread via search). A lot (most) of the people I know from here are a name and a collection of ideologies/opinions. There are a few people of whom I know a little of their histories, and this knowledge I treasure. I guess I sorta hope I'll get to learn more about more of you, and thought I might start a trend by posting more about me.

Oh, and Theca -- you may not have gotten to hold him, but you have become his favorite word. It sounds a little more like "th-ca" when he says it (two syllables but no middle vowel), but clearly he wants the opportunity to be held by you. Hopefully there will be another Endercon before he grows too much.

Ok, so that's my 1011th post. Not as big a milestone, I suppose. I must admit that although I probably could have written more originally in my 1000th post, I wanted to be done with it so I could start making little comments on other threads, too. I didn't post for four days! Was most difficult. Also, since it's a milestone post, I don't want to edit it -- but I admit to an error. The prayer was the 14th, and the call on the 15th. Don't know why I put 13th, because I know it was two weeks after the 30th, and I know November has 30 days. Anyway, I never claimed to be infallible. Well, I did... but I was kidding. Sorta.

quote:

---

From the times when I tugged at my godfather's coat around age four, and told him how many kids actually were running around

---

Proof that Papa Moose was born a math genius.

And I've reconsidered my opinion on the status of those who've already past their 1000th and won't be hitting the 6000 mark for a few years.

Basically, the only reason the 1000th post is special now is because Papa Moose made it so. Kind of like the only reason speaking for the dead becomes such a widespread phenomenon is because Ender is just so good at it. So, if you can make your 2000th post special or your 500th or even (checking my profile) your 1259th, then I say go for it. Of course it may also be a good idea to do all of them in the same thread, maybe even in this one, to avoid clutter.

Honestly I do not take many things to heart, or feel emotional about anything. But this was one of the most inspiring and touching posts I have ever read. Your life is a true inspiration and I pray that I grow up to be half the man you seem to be.

I've always loved seeing pictures of the Mooselet and am very jealous of those who got to see him up close.

Dude, how cool of you to remember. So far this year, I totally missed my 1,000 post (holy cow, I missed my 2,000th post, too!!) I forgot my anniversary and more than likely about a thousand other things. (I'd just like to point out, till someone reminds me of what else I've forgotten, I don't rememeber that I've forgotten it.)

Thanks for the post though....not that it made me feel bad about myself or anything.

Moose, that was a really wonderful post. I can't help but draw similarities between parts of your life and mine. Curiously, we both gave up reading, and then were brought back to it by Ender's Game in college. May I ask, what caused you to stop reading in the first place? You sound a lot cooler than me though - I can tell you that one problem I didn't have to deal with in high school is being wanted for being good at too many things.

Good too hear from you again....

And I'm not even sure what you mean when you say you were short-tempered and anxious...I don't remember you being short-tempered at all. So no apologizing.