Secret Guilty Pleasures: Knowing Thyself

Research has shown that we all have secret, guilty pleasures. I can't actually put my hands on any peer reviewed, analytically and scientifically sound research that says that, but I'm quite certain that there is research that shows that.

Since, I am of the belief that research suggests that we all have these secret guilty pleasures, even without any sort of empirical data with which to back this claim, I decided I should take stock of some of my own. Afterall, "know thyself" right?

Those who know me will be stunned that "Jelly Donuts" do not appear on this list; that's because this is a list of secret guilty pleasures. When everyone in the world knows that you're all about jelly donuts it's hardly a secret guilty pleasure, now is it?

Now, I am of the further belief that when most people see the words "secret guilty pleasure," they have immediately translated this into "untoward purient peccadillo." No, this is not one of those articles. This is a list of those little things that I secretly just LOVE. I like McGriddles breakfast sandwiches, I love...

Cheddar Cheese Triscuits. Yeah, okay, so the box is labeled "100% whole grain" and "0g Trans Fat," but these are "one of those things" that you just know is some way, some how not real good for you. They're just too yummy. Oh! Maybe it's the 120 calories per 6 (count 'em!) crackers or the 220 mg of sodium. Yeah, not particularly healthy, but yummy they are. They may not have any trans fat, but man, how about a 1g of saturated fat per serving (those same 6 crackers). At least they're baked and not fried, right?

Ah, cheese. This leads me to my second guilty pleasure.

The Green Bay Packers. I've never been to Green Bay. Never been to Wisconsin, really. Yet, I consider myself a cheesehead. Super Bowl XXXI was a tough one for me, because I had to root against the cheese - the Pats are my team and some boundaries shall never be crossed. The next game - Super Bowl XXXII - I was in the clear: the hated Broncos and my beloved Packers. Two straight games I was crushed.

I didn't live during their glory days; when I adopted them, they weren't much better off than my Patriots. I had a friend - more an acquaintance really - who was for some reason unknown to me, a Minnesota Vikings fan. Somewhere along the line, I decided that we should be rivals. Voila. A newly minted cheesehead. I will admit this is slightly less than "secret" - the foam "Cheesehead" that sits on my bookcase in my home office tells that tale. This is certainly the worst kept secret on this list.

Guitar Hero. I'm way too old to have this much fun with this. My daughter is making her way through the "expert level," I am working through the "medium" level. We'll play the game together, and there I am, intently watching how she does it. Now, I don't know if it's just middle-age rapidly approaching, but I just can't seem to hit those "blue" buttons as quickly as I should - my mind is going there, but my fingers don't seem to be along for the ride. It's making me absolutely bonkers.

I will say though, Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" is even more fun kicking out when you're shredding the riffs than when you're just listening to Ozzy sing about being finished with his woman 'cause she couldn't help him with his mind. I'll spend hours doing this stupid game - after everyone else is asleep, there I am sneaking down to play Guitar Hero and to see if I can get a better score than the last time.

Txt Messaging. This is another one of those "you're way too old" to be doing things. I've got this nifty little phone that does everything - you know, contacts, calendar, web browse, fully qwerty keyboard, the whole deal. I don't know why I've got it, because I never call anyone. I TEXT them!

I know he's down the hall in the conference room. I could just walk down there. Nope. Rip off a text: "U wnt cffee?" The fact I've got a qwerty keyboard should allow me to actually write something approximating English, but that's not cool. My daughter sends a txt and despite the fact she's talking in some teenage code, I actually get it and secretly love the simplicity of the communication.

1980's "Pop." Yeah, I know, it's an affliction of my generation, but I find I'm even more into this junk now than I ever was in high school. Tommy Tutone's "Jenny," Rick Springfield's "Jesse's Girl," and Murray Head's "One Night in Bangkok" just get me all goofy, bouncing around in the car. Sadly, I could put on a pretty decent air guitar/lip sync concert to most of this stuff without much ramp up at all.

"Jenny I got your number, I need to make you mine...Jenny, don't change your number...86753-ooh-ny-ine..." Oh man, what's better than THATguitar riff? Makes me want to grab some Cheddar Cheese Triscuits, text some friends to come over to grab the Guitar Hero guitar and rock out.