Monday, May 31, 2010

Drinkers Union Incorporated (DUI)

In the past I've been accused of being a fixture at the Piper's Kilt in Eastchester. I've always somewhat laughed at that, because I'm not there nearly as much as people think. When I do go out, it does tend to consist of multiple hours that most livers and kidneys can't fathom, but the number of days is greatly exaggerated. Recently, I've been expanding my horizons and going to other places. Rumors have been stirred about a boycott of my beloved Kilt, but they aren't true. We won't get into the reasons for my lessened visits, due to my desire to protect the innocent (and the guilty). A few days ago, a friend of mine made a comment that resonated in my mind. He said, "what if we started a union." The thought was that we would use our monetary expenditures as collateral for lower drink prices. It sounds silly, but we really started thinking about the impact we could have on the local drinking scene.

We started talking about who would be in it and within minutes we realized that with our first three members, we'd be a $1000 a week (of which about 40% is tips) entity. We started adding some other regulars from here and there and it grew to about ten people and $2500 a week. It sounds silly, but get another fifteen professional drinkers and we're twenty-five people that could cause a restaurant's final tally to swing almost $5000 per week up or down. That's a quarter of a million dollars a year. What restaurant wouldn't lower their beer prices a quarter or fifty cents to accommodate that kind of coin? What bartender wouldn't enjoy a minimum of $1000 a week, just from one group?

If illegal immigrants can form a union to require those (ironically mostly Republican) business owners to pay a minimum amount when they pick them up in the morning (by the way, this is true, the guys in Yonkers who sit out on the corner looking for work, formed a union), then why couldn't a bunch of tax-paying, after work drinkers, do the same? I know the very thought of a bunch of drinkers thinking they have that kind of pull sounds preposterous, but think about the results of our absence in one place? Take the money aspect away and think about yourself. Unless you are just trying to get away from the world or a complete alcoholic, chances are you prefer walking into a bar that has a nice crowd, rather than that dingy lit, musty smelling, empty place. If there is chatter going on, people laughing and possibly some women, you're walking in. If you're a female, we want you now (for our union). Our union would all but guarantee a full bar every night. You figure with twenty-five members, all who are a minimum of four night a week drinkers, you're guaranteed to have at least fourteen of us there on any given night. Fourteen hardcore drinkers, who tip well. It's win-win situation for all.

Our union would have requirements and standards. Of course you could go to other places, but you would only have a certain number of "union free days" per month. The great thing about our union is that we would have these nights out at a lower cost, plus, we would call them meetings once a week and we could use any money spent as a tax write-off. Imagine getting drunk on Uncle Sam. Is there anything better? With our collateral we would hope to start a bidding war for our services. Restaurants would have to sign contracts that they would sell us our beer, wines and spirits at a discounted price on any given night. The hope would eventually be that our union would grow to such and extent that all the local places would be charging us less, unbeknownst to them, that it really didn't matter anymore.

There of course would be other perks. Upon joining the union, you would receive a beer mug, a flask and a shot glass with the DUI logo. We would have a weekly newsletter stating our goals and aspirations for the coming nights. We would have events like "beer pong for the bunnies" and "whiskey shots for sickle cell." We would use the monthly union dues to pay for transportation to and from each drinking establishment in the DUI mobile. This would be a tricked out school bus with tinted windows, a bathroom and our own custom made breathalyzer that would rate one's drunkenness by three levels - she's gonna be pissed, you're sleeping on the couch and are you fucking nuts going home in this shape? Single men would not be allowed to use this device, because honestly, they don't have anyone who cares enough to get mad.

Like all groups, we would have a strict code. No cheap tippers allowed, we're getting perks, so do not disgrace our union by belittling the man or woman serving your drink, ever! If you got into a fight in our participating establishment, you'd be required to pay for every other union member's drinks who happened to be with you. If you fight with another union member, you both are banished from that Establishment for one week. Upon return you would have to pay each person's bar tab who was present that evening. Falling down, vomiting or peeing in your pants is perfectly acceptable as long as you do not tell any non-members about your participation in our union. Bringing new members into the union would be subject to an evaluation period where they would be required to buy at least one drink for each member present. If you are going through the evaluation period, at no point should you be the first to leave the establishment.

Finally, we realize that once word got out about our union, there would be some skeptics and some who oppose our vision. We would have to carefully explain to groups such as M.A.D.D. that we never drive and we have a bus. As for S.A.D.D, they shouldn't be drinking anyway, so what are they getting their panties in a bunch for? As for Alcoholics Anonymous, well we are a positive group and we don't correspond with quitters.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

The Fountain

No this is not a blog about the beautiful sci-fi film by Darren Aronofsky, which starred Hugh Jackman and Kate Winslet. No, it's not about some watery site with mystical powers that gives one eternal youth. No, this is about me. The Fountain is basically a shortened version of The Fountain of Useless Information. Many have called me this. Is it such a dishonor to be a walking search engine for the mundane? I'd like to think behind all the useless information there are some specs of actual intelligence. There is, or is it are?

More times than naught a time will come during the day when someone asks a question about an actor, song, team, player, historical event, food, or some other whimsical event and someone else will ask me. I've been told by many, that if ever given the opportunity to enter a trivia challenge that contains a lifeline, I'd be there choice. So far no calls and nobody splitting any money with me. There have been times however, where perks were granted due to my knowledge.

It was about eight or nine years ago and my friends and I were at a bar crawl in Boston. We entered the bar with our Solo cups (invented by a former Dixie Co. employee) and there was some live music. A lone kid playing the guitar and singing. We yelled out "Metallica" and he played some riffs. Then he told the crowd that he'd give a T-shirt to whoever could name the singer of the next song. I was busy drinking and chatting up a honey at the bar and missed this comment. He starts playing the song and it was the Pina Colada song. My buddy taps me innocently on the shoulder and with a perplexed look asks who the singer was. I, annoyed he was ruining my rap, turned quickly and told him "Rupert Holmes!" The song is actually called Escape, but I digress. A few moments later, my friend taps me again, but this time with a smirk on his face and boasted about his prize. He got the shirt and I never got the girl. The Fountain was alone again.

The Fountain's reign started long ago. I remember once we were sitting in a friend's basement when he said "has anyone ever seen this low budget suspense/horror film called the Stepfather?" I said, "the one with Terry O'Quinn (Locke on Lost) and Jill Schoelen (80's-90's Scream Queen)?" He just rolled his eyes and smiled. I remember as a kid, I could remember almost every hall of fame baseball players final stats. Everything, from average to triples. I was a walking baseball encyclopedia. My grandfather found it amazing I knew more about the players from his youth than he did. Then again, he was walking on the parkway and got a ride home from a guy in a Ferrari (founded in 1929 be Enzo Ferrari) one day (sorry, Papa it's funny, and true!). So The Fountain isn't new to the info game.

So many nights people will tell me something and I'll debate them on it. We always end up googling it and more times than not, I am right. It's a gift in many ways, a curse in others. I take pride in knowing as much as I can, even if it isn't deemed unimportant. I think it's a good thing to be able to spout about everything from the difference between Shepherd's and Cottage Pies to the religious pilgrimage the Muslim's make called the Hajj. It scares me when people ask where the electoral college is and I have to tell them the same place where College Inn chicken broth is made (this is sarcasm). When people want to hear what I have to day and agree with me, they call me The Fountain, others just see me as a babbling brook.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Insomnia: A Love Story

The fan blows cooling my brow,
while I rest upon the soft white cotton.
Visions in the dark comfort me,
almost make me feel as if you're here.
The digital clock ticks within my head,
while the minutes and hours I'm losing amass.
The pills I've taken are not the answer,
and I wonder if there ever will be.
Is it you or is it me,
that makes me dream when only I'm awake?
I see your face so clearly,
but only from a distance.
Only in my dreams, may I approach,
but they never come.
I suddenly drift into a state of serenity,
becoming anxious to hold your hand.
But just then, the sun peeks through the blinds,
telling me it's time to say goodbye.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Almost Ten Things I Like About You

OK, I know. First the three types of guys, then sundresses. OK, so maybe I'm lonely. But it made me think about my likes. The little things that the fairer sex does to get our attention. Maybe it's what they wear or something they do, but there are some things that just grab hold of me and make me interested. Some are subtle, some are more direct. They all just add a little something extra to the package.

I have already beaten the sundress thing to death, but there are some other items I find very attractive. Baseball caps are a biggie. If a girl is wearing a baseball cap and has long hair, I find it a huge turn-on. Especially if they wear it so their ponytail hangs out of the back. That's just hot. Now I think guys who wear hats backwards and aren't 19 are for the most part, tools. Yes, I'm talking to you guido! If you're not a catcher, turn that lid around, buddy. But, there is nothing cuter than a girl with a hat on backwards. Not sure why, but it's just amazing.

I also like when girls wear soccer shorts. Especially if they are athletic. There's just something about a girl in soccer shorts and I honestly can't explain it. It's one of those things that isn't overtly sexy when described, but when you see it, it just is. You give me a girl with soccer shorts and long hair hanging out the back of a Red Sox hat and I may just get down on one knee.

It's not always clothing. So many girls these days are sporting way too much jewelry. Chains, multiple earrings, bracelets, rings on their fingers and toes. What is the point? To show you have extremities you don't know what to do with? To show you have money? To show that your boyfriend loves you? Listen sister, when you're boyfriend buys something out of the blue on numerous occasions, it's because he's cheating on you and his inner guilt is tearing at him, not because you're his boo. Yeah, I know, not everyone. Just like when guys buy flowers, just because. Just because they ogled some woman on the train for so long they actually felt like they cheated doesn't make it spontaneous. Although they might very well have been fighting some combustion. So you know what turns me on? When a girl wears no jewelry at all. It's a bold statement. It says, I don't have to accessorize to be noticed. I'm pretty damn cool on my own. No makeup and still looking good? Damn, that chick is a starter cap away from being my future ex-wife.

Perfume-less. That's right. Listen, we all sweat, we all give off odors. Not all are bad. And people have what are called pheromones. These bad boys make us attracted to others the same way a monkey is attracted to the hottie on the branch. Now climbing up a tree and having your way with someone probably isn't going to happen, but you have a better shot of instant chemistry that way, than meeting someone who smells like a flower garden made of whale vomit. You take my dream girl and let her give off a little Au natural aromatics. You got a winner.

Now, I know everyone on the planet falls for an accent. Heath Ledger being considered a good actor is proof of that. But there is something about an Irish brogue that just works. The funniest thing is one of my biggest pet peeves is when women curse. I find it a huge turn-off. But when someone when an Irish lass says "for fucks sake" or even drops a "that dumb cunt" it sounds sexy. Maybe it's because they pronounce it koont, but still. It's sexy. Maybe I'm more enamored now than usual, because I'm a little taken by an Irish girl, but still, it's damn hot.

Finally, there are the little nuances, the idiosyncrasies, that I find attractive. When a girl runs her hand through her hair once, while talking to you, it's sensual. When they do it over and over again, it's vanity and becomes a quite annoying. I also love when I make a girl laugh and while she's giggling she reaches out and gently touches my arm. That subtle message, telling me I've, if only briefly, won her over. It's magical. There are other little signs. When you're sitting with a male friend and a girl is sitting in between the two of you. She excuses herself and when she returns and repositions herself, she moves just a tad closer to you than she was before. It's little things like that which make all the difference. Finally there is being upfront. I don't want to date you for weeks to find out who you are. I want to know right away. There's something about spending a night talking to someone and having them look you in the eye and say that they like you, they don't want to play games and take the chance of missed opportunity. They want you to know how they feel. Games are for children. Strong emotions don't come along all the time. Not always having to be the first one to say something is a nice thing. It shows me confidence and conviction and honestly, sometimes that's a lot more attractive than a low cut blouse or a short skirt. But hey, if you're not going to pay me any mind and I have no chance. Those are perfectly fine accessories.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Sundresses

As we experience the return of warm weather, many thoughts and feelings are conjured up. The sun's rays seem almost therapeutic to some. Bringing smiles to faces especially those who love to soak up the rays and bronze their skin. The hours after work and weekends seem longer. Time is spent outdoors sipping cocktails and enjoying barbecues and sunsets. People will flock to the beaches and enjoy summer's delights. I however, am happy for one reason. Sundresses.

I know many look forward to the bikinis, the short shorts, the halter tops and mini skirts. I look forward to the lovely sundresses. There's something so sensual about seeing a woman in a sundress. It's somewhat modest, but somewhat risque. When a woman is walking in a sundress, there so much to be seen, but there is still some mystery being left to ponder. Some are somewhat sheer and when the light hits it in the right way, it's magical. It's revealing without being trampy. I don't know what it is about the sundress, but I know it will make me happy, watching and admiring the beautiful forms that will pass me by on the street or who I'll see prancing around while I'm driving.

I don't know who invented the sundress. I don't know who made it popular. I do know it was a wonderful idea. Thank you to whoever did. And thanks in advance to those who with a little cloth and some bright sun, will make my summer days a little happier.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

The Churchill Quote

"We contend that for a nation to try to tax itself into prosperity is like a man standing in a bucket and trying to lift himself up by the handle." - Winston Churchill.

In the past few days this quote has popped up on quite a few Facebook statuses, followed by the instructions to Pass this around keep it going... let the country know that we can't afford Obama or his CHANGE!!!IF you don't agree, delete it! That is "one" of the few rights we still have left. It's an interesting quote and one that initially makes tons of sense and one would question the Obama regime and it's thought process, but the problem with the statement is that the bucket analogy doesn't quite hold water.

Federal revenues increase almost every year. They generally do regardless of tax cuts or tax hikes. Only five times since 1962 have they decreased. Only five times in the last 48 years. Four of those years were from 2001 through 2005. During that duration, Bush lowered taxes twice. There was some economic growth on a small scale, but it decimated the Federal Revenue. The only other time it decreased was one year during Reagan. I find this quite interesting.

Here's the irony with quoting Churchill. Churchill spent the early part of the last century campaigning for old age pensions (social security), unemployment insurance (unemployment and welfare) and public health care (or as my friends like to call it socialist health care). He believed back then that the government should take care of these things through taxation. Unfortunately, what happened was the passage of systems to patch the problem, but not fix it, and this set back all of these issues for decades. It seems to me that is what we are facing right now. Tax cuts always sound good to the average person, but did anyone feel better about their day to day living in 2001-2005? No, but during those years the beginning of the recession we are facing was just beginning to snowball.

Living in Westchester I have been in homes that have cost their owners lots of money. Having a house that is worth hundreds of thousands of dollars must make a person feel good about themselves, but something is forgotten. The value of one's home is developed for the sole purpose of taxation. In feudal times lords would let people work on their land and let them live there, for a fee. This is taxation and is how our current tax system came to be. We love to say that our laws, our constitution come from brilliant minds who molded this Utopia, but the reality is we've always been ruled by the haves and the majority has and will always be, the have-nots. This my friends is the essence of capitalism.

The problem isn't with who is being taxed, it's taxation in general. What kind of mind says that taking someones hard earned money for the use of the government with nothing given in return is fair (I think health care would be fair). Sure, Republicans will say it funds our military and our schools. During times of war this might be the of the utmost of importance. Churchill and all his quotes, were generally taken during times of war. Churchill relished war, because it made him a hero. It made him larger than life. Unfortunately, we're fighting unpopular wars these days. This isn't Obama's war. He inherited it and all the warts that came from the inadequacies of his predecessor.

To my knowledge and I admit, I am unclear of this issue. It is my understanding that Obama has no plan to raise taxes for those who make over a quarter a million dollars, but to ask that some of those returns be funneled back into government programs. I understand this as someone who makes five million dollars and due to charitable donations and write-offs is due to get back money, might have to take less back. Dick Cheney was to owe $1.7 million dollars in 2005, but thanks to Bush's tax cuts and some tactful Katrina donations (made with Halliburton money) he basically paid nothing. These types of tax evasions are what Obama is trying to curtail and in doing so, taking from money that should be there in the first place and using it for the greater good.

With all the negative comments I have heard and all the blame put on a man who has been in office a mere sixteen months, I would like to quote Churchill once again. I think he might just have respected our current president. "I have always felt that a politician is to be judged by the animosities he excites in his opponents." Well said, Sir Winston.

Friday, May 14, 2010

How Will Lost End?

Let me preface this blog entry with the fact that I have watched Season 1 and probably four episodes of Season 2 and I believe Lost to be one of the silliest shows ever made. I think they had a plan, a la Sopranos, that would play out over a small number of episodes and it would make sense. Popularity caused them to create more ideas and these ideas spun out of control and became what the masses call "brilliant." Let me also point out that the masses are, for the most part, far from brilliant.

So how will this mess end? When I first watched the show I was struck by the silly symbolism. A man named John Locke who represents individuality and self governing, who believes we are innately good, unless faced with evil. Sounds like a famous philosopher named....John Locke! How original. I wondered if they'd throw in a character, maybe, his protagonist and call them Rousseau or maybe Hobbes. Little did I know until recently, but there was a Rousseau. How original. Then there is the whole biblical stuff where a guy names Jacob chooses a candidate to take over for him. It's Benjamin. In the bible, Benjamin takes Jacobs body and as people love to say yadda yadda yadda.

So we have philosophical symbols, religious symbols and of course the titles which pay homage to The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland. So what does it all mean? When I first saw it I thought a few different tales were being told. Maybe it's a modern day version of Alice in Wonderland. I don't think they would go into such a strong religious debate on regular television, so I don't think the ending will have anything as interesting as the true philosophical debate as to whether or not government and public religion is a cause for evil (to contradict Locke's feeling that these are inherent and should be practiced privately). I thought about it over and over and came to the conclusion that the way this all ends is a chess game, between Locke and someone else.

It just seems to me that the real debate is the philosophical differences between the real John Locke and those of say Hobbes or Rousseau. While this might sound offensive to some, if this is the case, I have a problem with the writers thinking the average television viewer would have any concept of their beliefs. This may in fact be why it has been so well received. I did a google search before writing this and apparently a few others (after watching every episode) have guessed that it may indeed be a chess game, with the final line being "check mate." Many believe Hurley will be the main character and he's playing chess with his doctor's in a psych ward and this has all been his imagination. I would hope the producers don't go that route. It's been done already, and better, by St. Elsewhere and Newhart. Like I said, I've only seen the first season and a handful of episodes. I wouldn't know the character Rousseau, Benjamin or Jacob if they sat on my lap.

Or maybe Locke is playing chess against the Angel of Death in a modern day telling of Bergman's The Seventh Seal (which everyone should see because it's brilliant). Maybe they all are doomed from the beginning and it's just playing out as they enter the next world. That might be seen as too easy. I guess nobody will be sure until next week. I won't be sure until well after, as I have no plans to watch the finale. I've made it this far in life without succumbing to the silliness. Why become part of the mindless herd that follows and waits with bated breath for all these monotonous series to play out? I'll be watching a game and I'm sure someone will be sure to call me and text me to tell me I'm wrong. I look forward to it.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Technologically Advanced. Really?

Everywhere we go these days we see what could only be imagined years ago. Technology is getting better and computers run so many things now, that human interaction is getting less and less. Even when it's needed.

Today, I left work early and went to CVS. I picked up some toiletries and headed to the counter. A young woman scanned my items, asked if I had a CVS card and upon my negative response, she scanned the card on the counter. I got my savings and was out in a few minutes. No coupons printed out, no wasted paper. Technology works. Then I went to the gas station. I slid my debit card into the slot and pressed my pin numbers in. The display board said "see cashier inside." I walked in and he reset it. I did it again. Same message. He then reset the pump and he did it and pressed credit card. I said it was a debit and he said "oh sometimes that doesn't work?" Hmm? I then headed to my bank to make a withdrawal. I saw some woman in front of me getting frustrated and then it was my turn. I noticed they had installed a new machine and it gave me all the familiar choices and then said "want a receipt or not." There was no button I could press to activate an answer. The touch screen then started to flash a message saying if I didn't make a choice in 30 seconds my transaction would be terminated. So I cancelled it and went inside. Inside I filled out the paper withdrawal slip and signed it. I handed it to the cashier and she told me I needed to swipe my card. What? Didn't I just bypass the machine where you swipe your card? I did so and she then handed me the money. No big deals, but it seems to me it's a lot easier when there is some human interaction, even though it seems to me, that even when there is, we're made to use some sort of computer.

Most supermarkets now have self check-out. The idea being that people don't have to wait in long lines if they have a couple of items. Problem is, you inevitably end up with fewer cashiers and people checking out hundreds of items. Plus, they pay someone to watch over these special lines. These people usually are about as sociable as an agoraphobe and about as helpful as a certain female body part on a bull. Not to mention these machines are incredibly sensitive and the average person is as intelligent as a head of lettuce. My apologies to lettuce for the analogy. It just seems that the more technologically advanced certain things become the less productive they are.

On top of all the problems these advances cause the one that can most easily be measured is unemployment. For every thousand EZ-passes given out, there is another job lost. For every checkout line that disappears, so does someone's salary. For every automated teller machine there is one less living, breathing and smiling teller. For every online movie ticket purchase there is another ticket taker sitting at home. It's gotten to the point where the jobs being made obsolete are the ones that made us feel good. Someone couped up in a booth giving us a smile and telling us to enjoy our day. Someone bagging our groceries and making small talk. Someone paid to rip our ticket, maybe a child, maybe even someone who has some learning disabilities, but goes home proud at the end of the week because they have a few bucks they earned. Maybe all these tiny technological advances aren't all they're cracked up to be. Maybe the future isn't so bright. Maybe in the future, we'll have jobs to give people and get back to what made neighborhoods and this country what they used to be. About the people.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Mother's Day Memories

Last year was the fifth Mother's Day without mom. It was a sad day and I wrote a blog about how much she meant to me. This year, I awoke and started to chuckle. I thought about the silliness of this one day we deem Mother's Day. It's a day that was brought about by a woman who wanted a day to observe and respect mother's everywhere. The woman who pushed this to become a yearly occurrence, passed by Woodrow Wilson, actually fought to have it repealed due to the fact that she was upset with how it had become commercialized. I find it funny at what it has become and what people do, year in and year out, despite knowing it's silliness.

I started thinking about past years and the funny gifts, cards and things that happened. I used to always make a present for my mother when I was younger. Usually because it was a school project, but later I'd make cards or other presents. I have never had any artistic ability, but I remember once we had to make something with clay and were going to glaze it and put it in a kiln. I made my mother a necklace. It was pretty plain compared to what my classmates made, but I liked it and gave it to her as a Mother's Day present. She of course oohed and aahed and said she loved it, like all mother's do, no matter how atrocious their little tike's gifts are. What I'll never forget is months later, she was going out to a dinner party and she was all dressed to the nines and she was wearing the necklace. I remember feeling so proud. The next morning she told me that women were wearing pearls and diamonds, but nobody ever asked them where they got them. Everyone asked her where she got the beautiful necklace. She said her wonderful son made it for her. I don't know if I ever made anything else after that, but I'll never forget that day.

When I was about twenty, my father was out of town on business and was to come home that night. I woke up my ten-year-old brother and we set out to buy stuff to make her a special breakfast. We hadn't driven more than a block when a car that was speeding down the road slammed into the driver's side door. My brother, who was in the passenger seat and not wearing his seat belt hit his head against the window. As I was checking him, the guy was screaming at me. Luckily for him, the police got there before I got to him. All I cared about was my brother. I gave the police the information and the policeman bent down to speak to my brother. He said "hey buddy, I have a question for you and tell me the truth. Were you wearing your seat belt?" My brother nodded. He said "you wouldn't lie to a police officer, would you?" My brother said "Nope, I was wearing it." That night, my mother taped a plastic bag to the window and picked my father up at the airport. When my father saw the car, he was shocked and asked what happened. Somehow the story of little Owen lying to the policeman became a bigger topic than the huge dent in the side. I've been in a few more accidents since that day and my brother is now a policeman.

My mother was a wonderful cook and on many occasions she did the cooking on Mother's Day. One year, my father said he wanted to take her out. Knowing how crazy restaurants are this day, we made an early reservation at a place on City Island. We all dressed nicely and got there a little early. We waited to be seated and watched in amazement as people pulled up in limousines, then got out wearing basketball jerseys and shorts. Nearly everyone in he restaurant was wearing a baseball cap. We had a horrible meal and just sat in astonishment at the way people conducted themselves in public. I remember my mother thanked us for a lovely dinner and we all looked at her and she said, "OK it sucked. Let's go home and have dessert."

So today, I'm counting the money I'm saving on a card, candy and a gift. I'm thinking of all the funny and crazy things that have taken place on this silly day. I'm sitting alone, thinking about the person I loved more than anyone else in this world. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her. Not a day goes by I don't miss her. Not a day goes by I don't need to ask her advice. Today is May 9th, 2010 a day like any other day. Now that she's gone, every day is Mother's Day.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

What Kinda Guy Are You?

It's so funny. Men and women are so different in so many ways. Women in general like to shop, soak up the rays at the beach and watch love stories the likes of which no man can bare. Men on the other hand, seem to like drinking and watching sports, period! I'm making very broad generalizations, but my point is, I wonder if girls are like guys in what they seek out in a woman. I am not speaking about family values right now, I'm talking strictly physical attraction.

Now all guys like a pretty face, but guys are pretty much divided into three groups. Breast men, ass men and leg men. Oddly enough, you when you ask a buddy what kind of guy he is, you don't ever hear him say "I'm a pussy man." One because it's sounds like a self-loathing statement and two, it's a fucking given.

It's a funny phenomenon and I definitely don't want to get all Freudian with this entry, but I'd like to think it has nothing to do with our mothers, grandmothers or any other family members. OK, that hot cousin who isn't really a cousin doesn't count. Some say it has to do with breast feeding, but that only explains one of the three categories. What about the others? Would an ass man be such due to someone sitting on him as a child? I doubt it. Or a leg man having this love affair with the gams due to spending way too much time on the ground in the cosmetic department at Lord & Taylor? It's baffling.


All men turn when they see a bodacious bottom, some jiggling cleavage, or a set of long legs in high heels. That my friends, is human nature. But what makes a man fawn over one area so much more than another? I consider myself a breast man. I'd say 90 percent of the women I've ever been in contact with in a romantic way were pretty much stacked when it came to the chest area. Some were bigger than others, some more shapely, with some actually surprising me. I can't think of too many who were below average in size in that department. Now that's not to say that someone who can fill a pairs of jeans, but is petite up top doesn't turn me on. I'm not saying that at all. Believe me, the right pair of heels, a short skirt and and a sexy strut can drive me wild too, but at the end of the day, I like big breasts.


Now I have friends who love big butts. I have friends who like skinny butts. I have friends who want them heart-shaped and others that don't care. I have friends who like short legs, some who like long. Some like thin, some like more muscular. Some don't care if the girl has legs to begin with. When it comes to boobs, I know guys that say they don't want more than a mouthful, some say they want them as big as basketballs, and some say what's the use. Some like dark-skinned beauties, some the fair skinned European look. Beauty is definitely in the eye of the beholder and at times the beer holder.


My argument is all women are beautiful in their own way, but we all have our preferences. If I had my druthers, everyone would look like Salma Hayek. Her olive complexion, brunette mane, sexy Spanish accent, combined with a bust that almost none can rival and sexy legs that work their way up to her curvaceous hips. At 5'2", to me she's perfect. That's not to say the tall, lean look of someone like Uma Thurman doesn't do it for me or the soft features of Sinead O'Connor (yes even bald I'd love her). There are millions of attractive women in the world, but none compare in my eyes to Salma. OK, maybe Padma Lakshmi or Eva Green. A young Sophia Loren or Gunnel Linblom, maybe.

But do women have these groups? Other than the annoying love of height, I have never really heard women throw guys into groups. Sure after they have slept with them, they might have some information to group, but not before. No, men seem across the board to be placed into one of three categories. Sure, there are time when all the categories cross into one person, but that is rare (and special...see Salma). For the most part men can tell if these said body parts are nice before a woman undresses, so one knows what to expect. Although I will be honest, I once expected someone to be somewhat small chested and when they took their bra off I was shocked, and very pleasantly, by what I saw. It was one of those occasions where if others had been present, I might have grasped hands and said grace.

So there you have it. My delicately placing all of humanity, well male humanity, into three nice little groups. So which one are you? I am a self described breast man, but all you lovely rumped and long-legged ladies out there, please feel free to try and persuade me to your team! I promise I'll go into with an open mind if you go into with open...would you look at the time.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

A Letter to April

April in retrospect felt like it flew by. In reality it dragged. Not out of boredom, but out of the sheer amount of time I feel I spent awake during this month. Work finally started picking up and my after school gig was in full swing. Money was made, but in looking back, more was spent. It seems like that is the case quite a bit now. The stupor of March continued throughout the early weeks of April. March Madness came to a close, but was quickly replaced by opening day and the exciting Masters. Life doesn't revolve around sports though. Or does it? Hey one wonderful moment did come in August. The Yankees received their World Series Championship rings which were probably the ugliest championship ring ever made. I know, you'll take it however you can get it. I just love being a ball breaker.

April had some comical moments, like being awoken by my boss who asked me if I was coming in to work one day and I replied, "On a Saturday?" Apparently, it was Friday. Then there was the night I snapped my key off in my car door. I can tell everyone the full story about this mishap now, but on this rare occasion I had about $3600 in my glove compartment and couldn't get into my car. This was not an enjoyable feeling. In the end, it cost me $235 and I learned a valuable lesson - always have a spare.

April also saw me take a week off of drinking. Being sick for five of the days definitely helped. That wagon was quickly put back in the shed and the debauchery commenced the following week. I have to figure out a way to go out and party it up seven days a week without spending every dime I have. I wish there was a way. But the wagon and the melatonin allowed for a great month of dreams. Some were too out there.

April had some cold nights, but some beautiful days. One question still looms in my head when it comes to weather that calls for shorts. Uggs? Ladies, is this really the look you're going for. What's with April and people discussing the weather? Is this necessary? Ever?

I also have a new personal hero. Laura Hall. She's the 20-year-old who is currently banned from every bar in England and Wales. She violated the ASBO laws. ASBO stands for Anti Social Behavior Order. Now think about the last time you were out. If there was someone you'd want to hang with, it's someone who gets so drunk and parties so hard they got thrown out of every bar in the entire country. I've been thrown out of bars, physically and figuratively and if memory serves me right, they were some of the best nights of my life. Laura Hall, I'd like to buy you a drink!

I had to listen to more ignorance regarding health care and other political shenanigans. Apparently, every Republican believes that on January 20, 2009 Obama called everyone in Mexico and invited them in with the lure of free health care, high paying jobs, and tons of other perks. I was unaware, but in the last thirty years the only times illegal immigrants have come to this country were 1992-1999 and 2009-present. This is information that was new to me. Me and sixty-seven million others. I started ignoring these conversations, because I realized it was just going to get me frustrated. It also made me start to ponder. I made a quick mental list of the ten people who I think are the brightest I know. Not the ten people who did the best in college. Not the ten people I philosophically agree with. Not ten people I'm even necessarily good friends with. Just the ten people, I think are the most well-rounded and logical. Now I can't be 100% certain who voted for who, but eight of the ten were Democrats. I started expanding the list and the margin only closed slightly. Being that I live in Eastchester, I guess when I got to someone from there (oh no he didn't), I would have gotten the number close to even.

Well April, you're over now. May has brought some heat and some much needed business for one of my jobs, while the finish line is in sight at the other. I'm not necessarily happy about the latter, because it's paid me handsomely and it has really been a lot of fun for the most part. I'm going to try and settle down a little in May and June. Not completely, but possibly get back to cooking dinners and enjoying some movie nights. Maybe someone will come along and join me for some of these evenings. Make my life a little less sordid and a ittle more content. Who knows? Maybe May will bring in the stormy discontent I felt last summer. I'll think good thoughts and hope for the best.