One of the dangers of listening to radio shows other than TBTL:
I am a complete and total liberal in every way. Every now and then, I like to check in with the right wing radio shows. I play a game to see how long I can listen before I lose it, start screaming at the radio, and have to shut it off. I usually don’t last very long. I enjoy the aggravation that this produces. On Thursday night, I decided to listen to right winger Mark Levin’s radio show. He’s usually good for some aggravation! I found out that Michael Jackson had died from Mark Levin. Ouch! I wasn’t a Michael Jackson fan, and I didn’t feel anything other than surprise at the news, but now Mark Levin is now permanently tied to this event for me.
When my entire family went to see Michael Jackson during his Thriller tour and left me at home with a babysitter, I wore one of my mom’s rubber gloves on one hand all night so I could feel like I was sharing the experience with them in some small way.
Ooooh, another Shame-ber submission with a name to go along with the shame! And this one’s from right here in Tenver (Denver to all you non-TBTL listeners):
So I was on my way to meet my fellow 10verites for drinks before the Rockies-Mariners game last Saturday, when I realized that — with the temperature in the 80s — I had forgotten to put on deodorant. I was already running late, so I stopped at an Albertson’s grocery store on the way, grabbed some deodorant from the pharmacy section, ducked into the restroom for a quick application, then put the deodorant back on the shelf.* Case cloched!
* It was spray deodorant, obviously. If it had been a roll-on, I would have submitted this anonymously.
If you live in Denver, maybe it would be best if you avoid buying spray-on deodorant from Albertson’s for a little while.
Hello, and welcome to The Shame-ber. Look around, make yourself at home…. this is a judgment-free zone. You may find that you have a lot in common with us.
The Shame-ber started on the Seattle-based radio show Too Beautiful To Live (TBTL), and I have created this site as a home for all things Shame-ber-worthy. If you’ve got a secret obsession or behavior that you wouldn’t want God (Buddha, Allah, Jebus, etc….) or your neighbors to see you indulge in, please share!
One thing to remember: we’re not necessarily looking for your average, run-of-the-mill guilty pleasures (aka listening to ABBA), we’re looking for seriously deep, embarrassing behaviors (aka listening to ABBA while ritualistically plucking out all of your toe hairs). So if you want to join us in The Shame-ber, please send your submissions.
I love a Ten who allows me to use their name. It makes me feel less singled out when I share the contents of my own Shame-ber.
I have a confession I would like to make to you, though you probably already know as you are the chamber in which I participate in my shameful behavior.
I have an unhealthy obsession with the song “Lose Yourself” by Eminem. That is not inherently shameful but given that I loathe rap and will often rap along to “Lose Yourself” for a good hour straight it becomes somewhat shameful. My own brain makes fun of me the whole time I am rapping but I just can’t stop, I mean c’mon…
“His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy. There’s vomit on his sweater already, mom’s spaghetti. He’s nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready. To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgettin”
It is infectious. Ahh, the pain of a self created self loathing spiral.
Scott, since you’re the Eminem expert – do you think he’ll take Song of the Summer like Sean predicted?
Fellow Tens, it’s time to look into the serious side of The Shame-ber. This submission broke my heart a little:
As the years have rolled by and I find myself getting older I have started to realize that I don’t make enough effort to keep in touch with family and friends. Sometimes I go weeks without calling my parents or brother. I guess part of me has always thought I should call more but it wasn’t until my brother pointed it out rather bluntly that it really struck me. I am an asshole with it. I have great friends I haven’t spoke to in years. I guess I could justify it because they don’t call me either, but is that good enough?
A number of years ago my grandfather passed away. Every Thanksgiving the family would meet up for a sort of family reunion. Well, I was in college and fairly broke at the time and didn’t feel I could make it down this year. In January I got a call that he had passed. I never got to see him that last time before he died and I have seriously kicked myself for it ever since. I am sure I could have made it down there that last time. I could have asked my parents for gas money or something. Anyway, I am still kicking myself for it and swore it wouldn’t happen like that again.
Even with this history hanging over my head I still don’t make the efforts I should to keep in touch. That is shameful. Life is too short to let the folks around you die without taking every chance you can to let them know you love them.
I think this serves as a good reminder today – Father’s Day – to call the ones we love. Do it now. And consider this my phone call to all of you Tens (and Elevens) out there – I love you guys, man!
Now that summer’s here, it’s time to indulge in a Shame-ber item that I’m sure many of us share:
When I’m driving around town and the weather is nice, I make sure to roll down my windows and blast the coolest indie rock I own (i.e. Built to Spill, MGMT). I want the masses to know how awesome I am (RAWR!) and what good taste I have.
If I really want to listen to NPR or sing along with my Cat Stevens Greatest Hits CD, I keep the windows rolled up and the AC on. Maybe the fact that I listened to musicals in high school (i.e. Phantom of the Opera, Cats), I feel the need to overcompensate by showing off my vastly improved music taste to the world. Take that, Cate Blanchett.
Well, I do love Cat Stevens, but I might not roll down the window when I was singing along with “Morning Has Broken.” However, since I work in public radio, it is practically required that I blare All Things Considered on my drive home (when I’m not listening to TBTL, that is).
Have a dog, but don’t like picking up its poop? Take note:
Whenever I walk my dog I carry a plastic bag. This bag is not to pick up the pooh, just so I can pretend to pick up the pooh if there’s anyone around watching me. What makes it worse is that I took my dog to obedience classes, and he was (well, we were) awarded a “Good Canine Citizen” certificate. One of the oaths you have to take recieve the award is that “you will always clean up after your canine,” which I did for about a month and never again.
Next time you’re tempted to do this, just remember that every time you don’t pick up after your dog, Luke Burbank loses a hand of Texas Hold Em poker.