And the Winner Is...

This person. Congratulations, Heidi! You were the first to correctly guess the secret identity of the mystery man. By the way, I've given you a prize. It's quite lame, by the way, but it's the best I've got at the moment. I've started following your blog and have left comments on all your posts that are on the front page. Like I said, it's really lame. Your prize, that is. Not your blog.

I realize there are long-established blogging etiquette conventions that dictate you're supposed to respond to comments, visit the blogs of those who visit yours, etc. Unfortunately, I don't have as much time to dedicate to that sort of thing as I would like. Especially if Rebecca is on the computer. I think we both need laptops. Anyway, this means I will not be able to do as much blog-hopping as I would like to do.

There's a principle in Economics (WARNING: If you suffer from sleep apnea, read no further unless you're hooked up to your machine) known as opportunity costs. Opportunity costs are what it costs a person to engage in any given activity. The opportunity costs of that activity are whatever benefit you would have gained had you chosen your best alternative activity.

In this case, the value of Heidi's prize is whatever I gave up to go read and comment on her posts. Since those infomercials tell me I could be making bazillions of dollars working out of my home part time, that would be my best alternative activity. So, Heidi, I gave up bazillions of dollars, being my own boss, and wearing my PJs (Attention Grammar Nazis(TM), notice I left off the apostrophe. You're welcome.) to work to give you your prize. Those are some seriously valuable comments. In other words, you hit the jackpot. No need to thank me.

To the rest of you who were kind enough to read my first post and leave comments, I promise I will eventually get around to reading some of your stuff and commenting on it as well. Unfortunately, I will only be giving up, oh, I don't know, a part-time job at Wal-Mart (EDIT: Wal-Mart should be so lucky to have me working for them). So that means my comments on Heidi's blog will be worth far more than the comments left for everyone else.

Or not. That's still lame, isn't it? But hey, it's Christmas! It's the thought that counts, right? In memory of the new-and-improved, charitable and generous Ebeneezer Scrooge, have mercy on my pathetic offering.

Oh! Wait! I know! I can put in a plug for Heidi's book, Miss Delacourt Speaks Her Mind. If you read it all your dreams will come true, and if you don't, all the hair you want to grow will fall out and all the hair you don't want to grow will become a forest. Hopefully that makes it a no-brainer for you.

Perception and Mystery

Do you ever find that some things really bother you, but for some reason you can't quite put your finger on it? Really? You do? Great! This isn't one of those times.

Quick. Let's play a game of "Who am I?", shall we?

This great man was described as follows:

"...as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city ever knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough in the good old world."

Was he a member of the clergy? Nope. Was he some great politician? Heavens no! You don't believe there's such a thing, do you?

What about a generous philanthropist? That he most certainly was, but that is not how the world remembers him. No. This wonderful man's name is synonymous with selfishness, greed, misery and a total and complete dearth of concern for the welfare of anyone other than himself.

Have you guessed who the mystery man is? If you're my wife there's no mystery. Wait. That doesn't sound good. Sweetie, if you're reading this, there's still plenty of mystery, I swear. What I mean is that you already know the answer, so you don't count. Uh . . . that sounds even worse. Time to shut up.

Anyway, I was going to go ahead and tell you who I am talking about, and then do a little ranting and pontification. I think, however, that it will be more fun to play a little guessing game. At least it seems like fun at the moment. I'm tired, so I could be terribly wrong. If you know the secret identity of the man in question, leave your guess in the comments. If you're right, you'll be rewarded--but only if you didn't use Google. If you do cheat and use Google, please don't spoil it by posting the answer.

Thanks for stopping by!