I am the MVP (of what?)

In case you have been living under a rock for the past month or so, this may come as news to you: in the most over-blown, over-hyped event in recent memory (and with Balloon Boy and the inexplicable case of Bieber-Mania afflicting any girl under the age of 16, that's saying something...) - LeBron James took the money and ran to Miami to play with his best friends in the sandbox.

That's all right, it's not like I was saving up for season tickets for the Bulls anyway if he did come here.  For whatever reason, the NBA seems like it is the most out-of-touch and irrelevant sports league - not that any sport features 6-foot, skinny, Asian guys like me as their star athletes.  (Well, maybe the Coney Island Hot Dog Eating Contest - but we saw how well that turned out this year...)

Got me to start thinking: in what Bizarro-World realms would I be considered a top free-agent?

And I'm not talking about my mundane traits like: folding and re-folding my t-shirts until they are perfectly in alignment (despite never having worked at the Gap), meticulously adding up the cost of each and every item we buy at the grocery store (you have no idea how the price of sour cream fluctuates each week), and re-arranging the cups and plates in the dishwasher to pack the most in.  (Geez, these borderline OCD examples are not very flattering, are they?  I must be the second long-lost brother of Adrian Monk...)

Hmmm...let me stew on this for a while, and I'll get back to you...