Let’s get right down to it. I don’t want to brag or anything, but I’m pretty good at Trivial Pursuit: 1990s Edition. I can’t say why for sure, but it must have something to do with my age and where I was at spiritually during the 90s. Spiritually speaking, from 1990 to 1999, I was totally awesome.

Exactly how good am I at this board game? Well, I can’t claim to be “the best” at it. But rest assured, I’ll take on any of you jerks. Just e-mail me (mike@volumeone.org) with a time and a place. If you don’t get a response to your e-challenge within 60 seconds, you can assume I’m busy laughing my ass off because I can already tell how badly you’d lose. At Trivial Pursuit. 90s Edition.

Yes, I’m that good.

Hey, I’m sure there’s stuff you guys are good at, too. You might not know the name of the actress who played Ross’s gay ex-wife on Friends (trick question, there were two actresses), but hey, not everyone can be me. Maybe you’re good at cooking. Maybe you excel at ping-pong or speaking Spanish as a second language. I bet you play a mean game of Jenga or something. After all, everyone’s good at one thing, right? I won’t be so cavalier as to suggest that a higher power gives us all one important talent when we’re born. After all, some people are very good at very useless things, such as burping Sir Mixx-A-Lott  songs, jump-roping, and city planning. I just got lucky with my Trivial Pursuit thing, I guess.

Despite the amazing high I get from beating people at Trivial Pursuit: 1990s Edition, I must confess that these successes are somewhat bittersweet, because I know there are people out there better than me. There are people who watched more TV in the 90s. People who followed the break up of the Soviet Union more closely. People who owned more Bel Biv Devoe, Sinead O’Connor, and Roxette albums. Sadly, there are people who watched Days of Thunder many, many more times than I.

But that’s OK. I’m good at other stuff, too. In fact, there have been moments in my life where I could honestly claim to be “the best” at something. Like, back in high school, I was my school’s best drummer. Yep, no one could play the trap set as well as Mike Paulus. Was this because I spent hours practicing in my basement until my TAMA drum set was soaked in the sweat of musical toil? Of course not. I was the best because I went to a small Catholic high school that had a tiny band program. We had, like, three drummers. But hey, I was the best one. Probably. Maybe Jamie Bevins kept better time. But I could totally nail the fills on every track of Counting Crows’ August and Everything After album (released Sept. 14, 1993 on Geffen Records).

But wait, there’s more.

    I possess astonishing thumb dexterity. When friends and distant relatives learn about how good I am with my thumbs, they often say I should enter international videogame tournaments or high stakes twiddle-offs. (You may be thinking the very same thing right now.) However, as much as I’d love some of that sweet twiddle-off prize money, I just do that kind of stuff for fun, unencumbered by fame and fortune. Besides, I’ve seen people on late night talk shows such as The Tonight Show with Jay Leno (which debuted on May 25, 1992) who are blessed with digits far more flexible than mine.

I guess being the best at something will always be a relative thing. Sure, Kevin Spacey has a “best actor” Oscar, but it’s only for 1999 (American Beauty). And Sheryl Crow’s breakthrough single All I Wanna Do won Grammies for both Record of the Year and Best Female Pop Vocal Performance, but only for 1995 (her 1993 album Tuesday Night Music Club sold over 5.3 million units). Olympian Michael Johnson brought home two gold medals for track events from the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta, Georgia, but he’ll probably always be jealous of how fast cheetahs can run.

The whole “relatively the best” concept probably stands out to me because I grew up in the Chippewa Valley, where we’ve got microcosmic pockets of talent. The Valley’s best actors, writers, bowlers, teachers, city planners, and wailin’ guitar soloists are probably not the best in the world, even if some come close. And that’s OK. It’s just great to know that we’ve got so many local folks trying so hard to achieve their personal bests. In the end, it usually works out pretty well for all of us.

So I’ve accepted the fact that I’m probably not the world’s best Trivial Pursuit: 1990s Edition player. Am I bitter? No. You see, I’m used to not being the best at everything. I mean, sure, I would like to have been named People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive in 1996 (good hair year), but that was Denzel Washington’s year (the first and only African American winner). I’m OK with my “relatively the best” status. After all, life’s not about winning, right?