You ever have those people in your life?  The ones who are CONVINCED they know what they’re talking about?  But maybe don’t…quite?

Yeah – me too.  Case in point: One time I was at a dinner party, and a man there was talking about how he had read a book about the secret to the longevity of the Centurions.

Me:  Uhhh…Centurions?  Like dudes in skirts who worked for Caesar?

Him:  No, no.  CenTURions.  Scientists had studied them and compiled a book on their findings of why they lived so long.

Me:  Sooo…CENTURIONS??  [It’s at this point that I’m pretty sure he’s talking about people who are 100 years old.  But I can’t remember what they’re called.  All I can think of is that Colorado became a state when America was 100 years old and that’s why it’s called the Centennial State.  But are PEOPLE called CENTENNIALS?  That doesn’t seem quite right either.  But I KNOW they’re not called Centurions.  And unless Pythagoras took a break from his tedious theorems, there wasn’t a scientist alive in 32 A.D. who studied the secret to the longevity of the Centurions.  ‘Cause if they had, they would have found that the secret was: 1) stay cool in your cute dress, 2) drive a swift chariot and 3) stick together in groups of 100.  There’s just not enough there to make an entire BOOK for people to talk about at dinner parties.]  So I say, “Actually, I’m pretty sure Centurions were Roman Soldiers.  Speaking of which…” 

And I’m off!  Telling everyone about this sweeping epic movie I’d seen one time about the life of Jesus.  And at the crucifixion scene, JOHN WAYNE was playing the role of the Centurion who stood by and watched Jesus take his final breath.  All is quiet after darkness falls over the land and the shroud in the temple has ripped, and it’s time for Mr. Wayne’s voiceover, “Truly this was the Son of God, Pilgrim.”

When we’re all laughing at my rendition of John Wayne as a Roman CENTURION (he doesn’t really say “Pilgrim” in the movie – I added that part), the man friend pipes up again with, “Ok, maybe they’re not called Centurions.  But they lived to be over 100.”  It’s at this point my husband strolls over and says, “Oh, you mean like Centenarians?”

-End Scene-

So where does this leave us when we’re faced with those people?  Whether it’s an innocuous dinner party conversation, or something more important?  I find it best to stick to my guns.  All the while using a little positive self-talk.  But in a cartoon voice, “I knows what I knows.  And that’s all that I knows…guck, guck, guck!” 

And if that fails?  Call my husband.  He’ll know.