No this is not a blog about the beautiful sci-fi film by Darren Aronofsky, which starred Hugh Jackman and Kate Winslet. No, it's not about some watery site with mystical powers that gives one eternal youth. No, this is about me. The Fountain is basically a shortened version of The Fountain of Useless Information. Many have called me this. Is it such a dishonor to be a walking search engine for the mundane? I'd like to think behind all the useless information there are some specs of actual intelligence. There is, or is it are?
More times than naught a time will come during the day when someone asks a question about an actor, song, team, player, historical event, food, or some other whimsical event and someone else will ask me. I've been told by many, that if ever given the opportunity to enter a trivia challenge that contains a lifeline, I'd be there choice. So far no calls and nobody splitting any money with me. There have been times however, where perks were granted due to my knowledge.
It was about eight or nine years ago and my friends and I were at a bar crawl in Boston. We entered the bar with our Solo cups (invented by a former Dixie Co. employee) and there was some live music. A lone kid playing the guitar and singing. We yelled out "Metallica" and he played some riffs. Then he told the crowd that he'd give a T-shirt to whoever could name the singer of the next song. I was busy drinking and chatting up a honey at the bar and missed this comment. He starts playing the song and it was the Pina Colada song. My buddy taps me innocently on the shoulder and with a perplexed look asks who the singer was. I, annoyed he was ruining my rap, turned quickly and told him "Rupert Holmes!" The song is actually called Escape, but I digress. A few moments later, my friend taps me again, but this time with a smirk on his face and boasted about his prize. He got the shirt and I never got the girl. The Fountain was alone again.
The Fountain's reign started long ago. I remember once we were sitting in a friend's basement when he said "has anyone ever seen this low budget suspense/horror film called the Stepfather?" I said, "the one with Terry O'Quinn (Locke on Lost) and Jill Schoelen (80's-90's Scream Queen)?" He just rolled his eyes and smiled. I remember as a kid, I could remember almost every hall of fame baseball players final stats. Everything, from average to triples. I was a walking baseball encyclopedia. My grandfather found it amazing I knew more about the players from his youth than he did. Then again, he was walking on the parkway and got a ride home from a guy in a Ferrari (founded in 1929 be Enzo Ferrari) one day (sorry, Papa it's funny, and true!). So The Fountain isn't new to the info game.
So many nights people will tell me something and I'll debate them on it. We always end up googling it and more times than not, I am right. It's a gift in many ways, a curse in others. I take pride in knowing as much as I can, even if it isn't deemed unimportant. I think it's a good thing to be able to spout about everything from the difference between Shepherd's and Cottage Pies to the religious pilgrimage the Muslim's make called the Hajj. It scares me when people ask where the electoral college is and I have to tell them the same place where College Inn chicken broth is made (this is sarcasm). When people want to hear what I have to day and agree with me, they call me The Fountain, others just see me as a babbling brook.
More times than naught a time will come during the day when someone asks a question about an actor, song, team, player, historical event, food, or some other whimsical event and someone else will ask me. I've been told by many, that if ever given the opportunity to enter a trivia challenge that contains a lifeline, I'd be there choice. So far no calls and nobody splitting any money with me. There have been times however, where perks were granted due to my knowledge.
It was about eight or nine years ago and my friends and I were at a bar crawl in Boston. We entered the bar with our Solo cups (invented by a former Dixie Co. employee) and there was some live music. A lone kid playing the guitar and singing. We yelled out "Metallica" and he played some riffs. Then he told the crowd that he'd give a T-shirt to whoever could name the singer of the next song. I was busy drinking and chatting up a honey at the bar and missed this comment. He starts playing the song and it was the Pina Colada song. My buddy taps me innocently on the shoulder and with a perplexed look asks who the singer was. I, annoyed he was ruining my rap, turned quickly and told him "Rupert Holmes!" The song is actually called Escape, but I digress. A few moments later, my friend taps me again, but this time with a smirk on his face and boasted about his prize. He got the shirt and I never got the girl. The Fountain was alone again.
The Fountain's reign started long ago. I remember once we were sitting in a friend's basement when he said "has anyone ever seen this low budget suspense/horror film called the Stepfather?" I said, "the one with Terry O'Quinn (Locke on Lost) and Jill Schoelen (80's-90's Scream Queen)?" He just rolled his eyes and smiled. I remember as a kid, I could remember almost every hall of fame baseball players final stats. Everything, from average to triples. I was a walking baseball encyclopedia. My grandfather found it amazing I knew more about the players from his youth than he did. Then again, he was walking on the parkway and got a ride home from a guy in a Ferrari (founded in 1929 be Enzo Ferrari) one day (sorry, Papa it's funny, and true!). So The Fountain isn't new to the info game.
So many nights people will tell me something and I'll debate them on it. We always end up googling it and more times than not, I am right. It's a gift in many ways, a curse in others. I take pride in knowing as much as I can, even if it isn't deemed unimportant. I think it's a good thing to be able to spout about everything from the difference between Shepherd's and Cottage Pies to the religious pilgrimage the Muslim's make called the Hajj. It scares me when people ask where the electoral college is and I have to tell them the same place where College Inn chicken broth is made (this is sarcasm). When people want to hear what I have to day and agree with me, they call me The Fountain, others just see me as a babbling brook.
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