The end of the calendar year is typically a time for reflection and candor (whereas the end of the fiscal year is typically a time for panic and obfuscation). In that spirit, I would like to relieve myself of the following burdens:
- I am, and have always been, a proud heterosexual man. While this has been known among my closest friends and family for some time (although, upon hearing 28 years ago that I’d fathered a son, one of my brothers-in-law said to me, “Well, now we have proof you’re not gay.”), it has not been a fact I’ve chosen to confirm to the world at large. I would like to thank my life-partner, Carol, for her love and support throughout the years, and hope she has never taken umbrage when I shoved her out of the frame anytime someone tried to take our picture together. Not any longer, my darling – now you can come in closer… honey?
- While this is difficult to admit, I believe society has evolved to the point where I can now proclaim my right-handedness. Years ago, such acknowledgement would have branded me with a stigma that could not be erased. However, during my lifetime there has been a shift in public acceptance of this trait and so I now make this proclamation on behalf of my right-handed brothers and sisters. Science has clearly established that right-handedness is not a “lifestyle choice”, but rather something a person is born with. Now I can state I am, as our kind like to say, “right as rain”. I feel an immense weight has been lifted from my shoulders; I can finally conduct myself as openly right-handed and join with the rest of my community in an effort to establish “separate but equal” sections in all establishments for the left-handed people, since their presence in our midst leads to awkward seating in restaurants and fights over armrests on airplanes.
- Although I have never made a secret of it, I would like to clarify for the record that my feet are not the same size. My left foot is a half-size smaller than my right. I became aware of this around age fifteen, after my final growth spurt during puberty. I learned to accept it as my burden to bear. For many years, I was forced to purchase two pairs of shoes, size 9½ for one foot and size 10 for the other, and discard the remainder from each set. However, in my lifetime came the advent of the “Internet”, and through the connectivity (and anonymity) it provided, I learned there were others similarly afflicted. I am making this known today due to the recent charges leveled against me that the authorities, after impounding my computer and examining the contents of its hard drive, found evidence of shoe-sharing, with pictures of loafers, sneakers and boots along with the names and email addresses of other shoe-sharers. This is not evidence of a foot-fetish, as some have been quick to accuse, but instead is indicative of a genetic defect as I am attempting to explain to you now. How pictures of pumps and stilettos got into those folders is a mystery to me.
- I was profoundly embarrassed by the recent pictures in the National Enquirer, taken surreptitiously and, my attorneys advise, illegally, where I am shown in a hotel room in Seattle wearing men’s underwear. However, in an effort to minimize the impact of this revelation, I’d like to share some facts with everyone:
- The preference among some males to wear men’s underwear has been known to the scientific community for decades, was documented as early as the 1950s in the Kinsey Report, and later confirmed by observations from Masters and Johnson. Masters himself expressed such a preference.
- I have occasionally used surrogates to enter storefronts and purchase men’s underwear on my behalf. However, all of the funds used for these purchases came from my own personal account and were for my use and my use alone. These surrogates all volunteered for the task; none were forced against their will to make such purchases and it was never a condition of their employment or further status within our family to perform this task.
- While not as common, there is a subset among men’s underwear-wearers who prefer “tighty-whiteys”, and I include myself among them. Contrary to popular belief, the wearing of such garments has no verifiable impact on sperm count. I am authorizing the release of my medical records to establish this fact. I ask only that the public evaluate this information within its proper context and appreciate if they would ignore any unrelated observations regarding my cholesterol level or penis size.
- Finally, the time has come for me to be forthcoming about a shameful, dark secret; something I have endeavored to keep hidden even from those closest to me: I have never watched Office Space, Caddyshack or Fight Club. I can offer no defense for these sins of omission and beg your forgiveness.