Closet Calvinism?

My current interest in Greg Boyd has spawned no small amount of Christian helpers wishing to guide me back into orthodoxy. Dan urged me to return to Tozer, and, of course, I love Tozer. Dan's book suggestion, The Knowledge of the Holy, was on my list of companion reading to Boyd's God of the Possible.

Others have been more content to prod me by e-mail, including one genuine woman who explains to me that I'm really just a "closet Calvinist" who doesn't wish take the public lashings that comes with such a bold declaration in this age of Whateverism.

This term made me curious so I replied with guesstimates of behavior of a closet Calvinist. I hope all Calvinists approve:

Signs You Are A Closet Calvinist

You object to the hymn, "When We All Get To Heaven."

You think backsliding is only a problem for skiers.

You think Paul was too patient with the Corinthian church.

You've ever complained about the church cushioning the wooden pews.

You inexplicably start quoting Ephesians 1 at the mere mention of the movie title Free Willy.

You think an altar call should only involve a phone in the pulpit by which the pastor can wake up the slackers.

There's nothing like the smell of brimstone in the (Sunday) morning.

You've never confused Spurgeon with sturgeon. Or find it funny when others do.

You think Arminianism has something to do with expensive suits.