There is something about lists that bring out my obsessive-compulsive disorder. As a child, I would go through almanacs ranking the most inane things, and since this was well before the Internet age, and the development of Excel, I had hand written lists of varying topics in what felt like exhaustive research; or at least my eight year old self thought so.

My desk was littered with lined sheets of such arbitrary lists like the top 100 tallest buildings in North America or who had the most Home Runs in a season that did not win a MVP Award. In retrospect, it probably would have been a lot healthier for my wellbeing do be outside playing but whatever was on television was far more interesting as was almost anything non-fiction hence my very pale complexion and inability to master road hockey during my youth.