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This site (tomcawvel.com) and all pages contained therein are intellectual property of Jonathan D. Tschiggfrie, Esq. Any unathorized copying or usage is severely frowned upon but nonetheless highly unenforcable. What follows is a small compendium of identity that I wrote three months ago for your benefit.
Over twenty years of living and nearly fifteen years of schooling have afforded me scores of opportunities to consider the constituents of my personal identity. All of the following statements are undeniable TRUTHS. These are suitable and appropriate ways that I have found of answering the question, "Who is Jonathan D. Tschiggfrie, Esq.?"
I am not, in fact, an esquire.
I have never been accused of philandering.
I believe that "low battery" is one of the most disheartening phrases in the English language.
I have written short essays about chasing boats, shrinking gumballs, and other equally interesting topics.
I have, at various times, been known by the pseudonyms tschiggers, pianoman, Tom Cawvel, and Hans.
I am renowned for providing names to the u-boats at Staples store 401.
The animals that most strike my fancy are the basset hound, the river otter, the moose, and the Pekin duck.
I am boundlessly intrigued by matters musical, typographical, astronomical, cartographical, and fluvial.
I have been known to play the steam calliope on various riverfaring vessels, allowable under my framed Vox Calliopus certificate.
I find the most disturbing German loanword to be gelbstoff.
My sporadic escapades into the world of retail continually test my faith in humanity.
I have been instrumental in proliferating the urban myth of meef, a portmanteau of meat and beef.
I am young yet extremely nostalgic.
I am aware of my impending and completely unavoidable demise.
My desk is adorned with a sheet-music-stellated icosahedron, a plastic penguin figurine, a set of red dice, a small wooden cross from 1990, and a ceramic snow-angel (neither a snowangel nor snow angel).
I am commonly sought after by my colleagues as a microcosmic office supplies donation center.
My ancestry is predominantly Austrian and German, with a bit of northern Italian thrown in for good measure.
I firmly assert that it is a better condition to be cold than hot; paradoxically, the Godsend of the air conditioner is only surmounted by the invigorating and warming embrace of a woman companion.
I am crazy about a young woman and intellectual named Caitlin, and I shall be equally crazy about our named but, as of yet, nonexistent children.
I am particularly given to absent-mindedness, and as such I have a rather pesky habit of sending emails that promise photos and then not attaching said photos. Reassuringly, if I were capable of losing weight, I am comfortable in the knowledge that I would not be able to find it again.
I consider Thanksgiving to be the most novel and unsullied of holidays, and the day after Thanksgiving to be the work of Satan himself.
I am not Minnesotan.
I selfishly cling to a flannel-clad pillow as an essential of my happiness.
For some unknown reason, I find the color red, the number three, and the feel of cotton balls to be immediately disagreeable. (NOTE: The color red and the number three I find disagreeable in an abstract way, and that their more practical applications are unrelated. By comparison, one might dislike the color brown but find chocolate delicious, or have a qualm with the number five yet love Peter Gabriel’s “Solsbury Hill.” Cotton balls, however, are downright deplorable and should be avoided at all costs.)
In my travels, I find that you would be hard-pressed to produce a more beautiful setting than the bluffs of the Upper Mississippi River.
As you have undoubtedly ascertained, my prose is inspired by the works of Oscar Wilde, Bill Bryson, and John Hodgman.
I have never learned to swing dance, despite a philosopher’s observation that I appear to be a “cat that could cut a rug.”
The only pet I have ever had was a snail that perished within three days of my care.
The fact that Sudafed PE has a candy coating convinces me that pharmaceutical companies are uncompromisingly unethical.
The astute reader will notice that interspersed between more trivial factoids are undeniable and profound truths that form an accurate view of my core values and aspirations. It is your task to determine which statements fall under these categories. Therefore, I have provided you a renewed sense of meaning in life. Congratulations.
[ It all makes sense now. ] |