Are you a nerd? Are you??

You might be a nerd if...

...you reach for your trusty text editor before Word

...you understand all the buttons on your calculator

...prime numbers jump out atcha

...you've calculated your change due before the cashier

...words like "MBTF" pepper your everday speech, "brute force attack" doesn't conjure up images of the bullies who beat you up in high school, and when you hear "going gold" you don't think of the olympics

...your first thought is along the lines of "how do I reprogram this is?", "where's the USB port on this thing?", "what algorithm are they using?", "hey who the &%$#@ engineered this anyway?", all of the above (and more)

... you need a bathroom and you instinctively look for the wet wall (think "kitchen" or "outside wall")

..."Swiss army knife? Which Swiss army knife?"

So, are you a nerd? Take this nerd test and see. Not satisfied with the answer? Try nerd quiz instead.

Hey kids! If you're anything like me, you mark your socks. White socks at that (remember I'm from Cleveland). Well, actually I brand them. I believe socks are born in pairs, should be worn in pairs, and retired in pairs. Buy a bag, grab your waterproof marker, and brand them into pairs for life. Makes sorting the white load a snap too! OK, OK. I'm a little obsessive. OK, a lot obsessive. Compulsive.

Endearing qualities that contribute to my nerdiness: intelligence, curiousity, persistence, and more than a touch of obsessive compulsiveness. What Benjo calls "like a dog grabbin' hold of your ankle and not letting go." Ben's from Missouri. Don't argue with Ben. I'm easily bored and try like heck to avoid it. Somewhere along the way I defined reading as gleaning for information, not entertainment. Did I mention that I like to read? A lot. I have an associative memory that weaves together details and minutiae. I approach Jeopardy as a blood sport. I have no patience for intelligent design (sic), anti-evolutionists, and ignorant Luddites in general. Smart is sexy. Dumb isn't.

As that geeky kid in school, I found my 30th high school reunion a true revenge of the nerd(s). The movie Sneakers is somewhere on your top 10 movie list. Improbable as some of it was, you still think McGyver should be canonized. You look forward to the phone/cable/DSL installer so you can tag along behind. You're more excited about your kids' science fair projects than they are. You have a sneaking suspicion that Santa lives at ThinkGeek not at the North Pole. You've been known to right-click on a web page to see how they did that. It's all about the toys.

I remember my 4th grade teacher. Mr. Miller, the first male teacher I ever had. A nerd's nerd. His initials said it all: Irving Bennet Miller He was the first "true educator" I ever had, not just a teacher. He made school come alive. I remember him spending a whole morning explaining how an airplane flies: lift, thrust, drag, and gravity. The cross section of a wing on the blackboard. Going over and over it until everyone, every last person in the room, understood how airplanes worked. A passion for knowledge and life. He changed me forever.

When I moved recently I made the mistake of reaching into a box long unopened and pulling out a random report card. My mom the school teacher sent me a box years ago of all my report cards, notes home, test scores, and related memorabilia. Well, I reached in and pulled out something less than Ivy League. They quickly chimed in that I was one to talk about their grades when my were nothing to write home about. Later, while settling into our new house I went through that box. Two things struck me: yes, my grade average slide slowly from K to 12 and with the exception of 8th grade biology I got an A in science my whole public school career.

God bless my parents for indulging me in every museum class, after school program, and summer opportunity they could. I had a telescope, a microscope, electronic kits, and multiple chemistry sets. And I knew how to use all of it. I read. And read. And then read some more. I still do to this very day. But at some point in my distant youth I decided that reading was for digesting information, not entertainment. So to this day I don't read fiction.

Further proof of my right to wear a beanie atop my head: when I had a thalium scan I Googled it. Realized I was going to be injected with a radioactive dye soooo I went to the local pro photo store and bought 8x10 sheets of black & white film. Dashed home after the test and attempted to expose the film with my hot body. The two conversations of note were my talking to a tech at Kodak's medical film division asking if this was going to work and talking to the techs at pro photo lab explaining why I wanted them to push the film. Conclusion: I fuzzed the film but didn't end up with a Kirlian photo or a Madame Curie print. Hey, it worked. That's all I ask.

In spite of my confessed nerdiness and even though I've publicly expressed strong views about online dating, I sure don't need help getting a girlfriend. I'm a nerd not an antisocial dweeb loser guy. I don't need this nerd test to know either. Honest, I don't.

And if you have any doubt as to your identity, please, I beg of you, determine if you're a geek, a nerd, or a dork. The fate of the free world hangs in the balance. I implore you.

Further proof: I chose my car, a Pontiac Vibe, in large part because it has a outlet in the front seat.

Excuse me but I've got white socks on my mind.