And now, some apocalyptic confessions
If you're reading this, the world hasn't ended -- yet.
According to some very reliable sources -- the Internet and the History Channel, which I once took to task for getting the date of the D-Day invasion wrong -- sometime today the world will meet a spectacular demise. Comet, asteroid, supernova, alien invasion, collision with Planet X -- the jury is out on just how we'll all go out. But apparently, it's going to happen. The Mayans said so.
The Mayans also practiced human sacrifice and managed to deforest a big part of their civilization -- which aided in its downfall. But their calendar ends today, and they knew a little something about astronomy, so obviously, since there are no more days in the Mayans' day planner, it must be the end of life as we know it, right? Then again, the thing does run on for 5,125 years. Maybe the guy making the calendar just thought that was enough or got tired of blocking off days. After all, 18 months is all you get at the office supply store -- way short of five millenia.
I'm not entirely sure the ancient Mayans are right about this, mainly because I remember reading an AP story a while back that interviewed current Mayan descendents who said they had bigger fish to fry, like finding enough water for their community. One village elder said the whole thing was something made up by "gringos."
My money is on there being a Dec. 22. But if there isn't for some reason, I'd like to go out with a clear conscience and a clean slate. So just in case we do get hit by a meteorite today, there are a few things I'd like to clear up.
Let's start with some events of my childhood. I most certainly did not set the ground on fire next to the patio when a friend and I were "battle-damaging" plastic army men by burning them when I was 12 years old. I don't know why the water bill was so high that month. Also, the same buddy and I did not follow the little creek at the end of the street so far one afternoon that we found where it dumped into a river, waaaaay beyond where we were allowed to go. But the laundry room window did get busted out with a pillow, just like we said it did. I can understand how my parents would've thought ninja throwing star, given how many times we threw it at that door and at the wall outside. (I still have nightmares about spackle.) But no, a simple throw pillow (thrown with amazing speed) did that damage.
To my 11th-grade history teacher: That time you thought I said a bad word but then let me convince you that I said another word? Yeah, I totally said the bad word.
To that coach who got up in my face after I tagged his son out at home, ending the game, I answer your question the same now as I did then: "The ump called him out." Whether he was actually out ... I don't really know. What I do know is it was pouring rain, I was tired of crouching in the mud behind the plate and we got to go home.
To my hunting buddies who got so "drunk" that night off vodka: A couple of us replaced your vodka with water when you weren't looking. It was especially funny when you would talk about how strong it was. And yeah, I know we admitted to it a long time ago. I just like telling that story.
And to all the gas station owners who, circa my college years, discovered little jokes or phrases like "Down and grout" or "How grout thou art" written in the tile grout in your restrooms -- especially if the work was signed "The Outhouse Phantom" -- well, I don't know who did that, but if I hear anything I'll let you know.
I think that about does it. Everything else that I was ever involved in happened just like I said it did. As far as you all know anyway.
And if the world doesn't end today, then obviously these confessions were made under duress and you should take them with a grain of salt.
Just like apocalyptic predictions.
Email Nate McCullough at firstname.lastname@example.org. His column appears on Fridays. For archived columns, go to www.gwinnettdailypost.com/natemccullough.