Over my twenty-some years of walking like a drunken sailor, my odd gait has attracted the attention of many children. (Adults notice it, too, but they make amusing — and frequently unsuccessful — efforts to stare tactfully. Helpful tip: either stare or be tactful.) Since I’m used to collecting stares like a good-looking cliche at a dime novel authors convention, I’m not bothered by the gazes of curious children; however, I am always interested to hear the child’s reaction after I pass by. And that reaction is typically quite audible.

Children have a loud voice, set somewhere between “fire alarm” and “Don King,” that is reserved for the most embarrassing public questions and observations; my favorite personal experience with this voice occurred several years ago.

I was walking down an aisle in the local grocery store, and I walked past a woman and her young — perhaps 3 or 4 years old — daughter. The daughter gave me the usual you-ain’t-right gaze as I approached, but she said nothing as I passed. But when I reached the end of the aisle, to my amusement, I heard her voice ring out loud and clear: “Mama! That man is walkin’ so funny!”

Also several years ago, but not because of my gait, I started letting my goatee grow. I don’t remember my reason for allowing my urban chin sprawl, or if I even had a reason; I just know that it has embraced the freedom I’ve given it, and it is now just over seven inches long. So, thanks to both its length and its eye-catching reddish color, my chinmuff has become a bit of a conversation piece. Still, my gait is an aberration that is of more interest to curious children.

Or so I thought.

Just the other day, I was walking through my local Meijer. I walked past a father and his three kids; two of the kids were young enough to ride in the cart, but one little boy — perhaps four or five years old — was walking. He kept his eyes on me as we passed, and as usual, I kept my ears open in case he had an amusing comment to make. And he did … but not on the usual topic. As I continued down the aisle, I heard the little boy inform his father, “That man has a big beard!”

So now my goatee is more than just chinsulation; it’s chaff.

I like to check my site statistics with some regularity, just to see how many people are visiting and how they’re getting here. Most of the referrals — pages that link to my site — aren’t anything too notable, but when I checked this morning, there was one out-of-the-ordinary referral: a forum on a Russian skiing site.

When I investigated a bit further, I found that a forum thread featured a picture of me from my trip to Boyne Mountain last Christmas. Official Mindreader dad Bob had taken a few pictures of me on the slopes, and I posted a few on this very blog, and somehow, one of the forum members found one of those pictures.

What makes this particularly interesting is the reason that picture spawned an entire thread. Since, oddly enough, all the Russian forum participants seem to speak Russian, it took some work to decipher the cryptic whoa-that’s-definitely-not-my-alphabet posts. But thanks to a marginally useful and somwhat amusing translation from Babelfish, along with some work from Official Mindreader event planner Annette, I was able to get the gist of the thread. And then I was able to laugh. A lot.

Why did that picture spawn a thread on a Russian skiing forum? Because the original poster thought I might have been skiing on only one ski. And while his confusion is understandable within the context of that one picture, from my perspective it’s still hilarious.

So, in light of that thread, let me re-introduce myself: I am Burrill, the famed one-legged skier. Hear me schuss.

(If you scroll down to the bottom of the first page of the thread, you’ll find another picture of me on skis, and it clearly proves my two-leggedness. There is another two-legged picture of me on the second page of the thread, as well. So they know the truth. But really, the illusion is so much more fun.)

In the interest of full disclosure, I think it’s important that you, my loyal readers, know an important fact about me:

Let’s just say I wouldn’t be heartbroken if one of those shirts happened to appear on my front porch one day. Especially if it happened to be size XL and color navy or asphalt. I’m just saying, you know? It definitely wouldn’t ruin my day. (Also, a Porsche would be pretty cool.)

Anyway, that shirt, and other funny shirts, can be found at noisebot.com. I happen to enjoy the new hazard in Oregon Trail and the evolution of modern fun.

(For those of you who might be wondering why that shirt is funny: HTML is a language used to write web pages. If you’re curious, you can read it about it, and you can learn how to write it.)

Update: Event Planner Annette surprised me by actually presenting me with the HTML shirt.  It lives up to my expectations: it almost always makes someone laugh when I wear it.

Our mystifying raccoon situation has changed a bit.  The raccoon still shows up every night, and he still scratches the same corner of the house; however, he has gained some company.

The other night, I was on my computer (as always), and I heard the raccoon’s inexplicable scratching (as always).  But just a few moments later, there was a new sound: the sound of conflict.  At first I thought Rosie O’Donnell and Elisabeth Hasselbeck had brought their conflict to our back yard, but when I turned on the light and looked out the window, I discovered the truth.  It seems a second raccoon was lured by the oddly addictive properties of the southwest corner of our house, and the first raccoon did not take kindly to that incursion.   My presence put a damper on their fight, but it may not be the last one.

Further bulletins as events warrant.

In the midst of his extensive internet travels, official Mindreader anti-lock brake consultant Tobin uncovered a dirty little secret about the electoral process in the United States:

Yes, that’s right, an American Idol runner-up is representing Missouri in the U.S. House of Representatives. And he’s so important that he merits two separates grades.  (How he manages to pass and fail at the same time … well, only Simon Cowell can explain that.)

So remember: that vote for your favorite Idol contestant is far more important than you thought!

(Grades grabbed from the GOA House Ratings.)