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It’s amazing what can happen when older people are not afraid to look stupid. I suppose this happens for a variety of reasons, most of which come down to not caring anymore.

There appear to be two kinds of not caring anymore, though. The more common kind involves wearing comfortable, non-stylish and plain things like untucked baggy shirts or sweat pants. This is the kind of not caring anymore that comes from, for lack of a better word, a wisdom about appearances to outsiders and how that no longer matters, as if it ever did. Comfort and cost are pretty much what carries the day.

And then there are the older people who also don’t care, but it’s more like, “I don’t care what you think, I am not giving up my inimitable, unique style. Wear muu-muus and slacks you ordered from the pages of Parade magazine if you want, I’m still wearing bright colors and my rope chains. I’ve still got style, dammit.”

My curiosity lies pretty much in that fork in the road. I have some idea which of my friends will be still be clinging to the latest styles as they get old and I pretty much have some idea who will be in need of a dollar-store sweat pants intervention.

I know that I probably can’t see my 70-year old self wearing a tight multicolored t-shirt, not unless HGH is as common for old folks in the future as it is currently for desperate major leaguers looking to hang on to their careers. So, the only question now: can I stay away from buying mail-order slacks? Not pants, slacks.

After a couple of days of late nights at work, I finally got home at a reasonable hour and decided not to spend the time watching the news. Mostly because it reminds me that when I’m 65, my kids will ask me where I was when Obama was inaugurated, and I will tell them, “On the toilet, because I really had to finish drafting those tax certification forms, and once I was done, I couldn’t wait. Shouldn’t have put all those raisins in my oatmeal.”

Here’s what I’ve learned watching basketball and mildly surfing the internet:

1. Paul Blart: Mall Cop is the number one movie in America. I don’t regard that as some sign of the apocalypse or anything, I actually thought it didn’t look bad…as a rental. Look America, I know it was cold out, but do you think Kevin James is really an A-list movie star? Because that’s what you just made him.

2. I’ve seen none of the Oscar-nominated movies. Looks like I have to get on that if I am going to anger moviegoers with contrarian blog postings. I still get the occasionally shitty email for my reaction to “There Will Be Blood.” Although I’ll say this right now: No “Benjamin Button”. I saw “Meet Joe Black” in the theater many moons ago, and Brad Pitt, “three hour movie”, and me will never go together again.

3. If you like basketball, and you think Charles Barkley can’t be replaced, check out the comedy stylings of Chris Webber and Gary Payton on TNT while they sub for him.  Here’s a look at their little-seen NBA TV work:

We may have just found the new Wayans Brothers.

4. Jim Beam has a series of ads that are kind of jaw-droppingly sexist, basically, they represent the worst of male fantasies and thoughts, and proudly associates Jim Beam with them. In the one I saw tonight, a scantily clad, hot woman speaks of how she likes slightly fat men with back hair who go to strip clubs. It then says “the girlfriend”, and Jim Beam is “the bourbon”. Yeah, okay. You gotta be drinking a bottle of Jim Beam to think that’s going to happen. When I think sexy girls, I think Jim Beam, that’s what they drink. Yeah, sure.

What’s even worse is they’re trying to mask it as “ironic” by having a video contest where you make fun of these plodding, pathetic, and obvious ads.  So you can make fun of how impossibly sexist they are. Because you know it’s not true, right? Way not to man up, Jim Beam.

I’m sure I’m not the first person in the blogosphere to tell hockey player Sean Avery that I’m pretty sure he didn’t get with Elisha Cuthbert and Rachel Hunter when they were virgins. I’m definitely not the first to point out that he’s essentially being suspended for a long history of his winning combination of dicktasticness and asshattery.  And by no means am I a hockey expert.

But his immature comment designed to agitate, because that’s what Sean Avery does, brings to light to one of the things guys need to accept as they get older, especially as they stay single. Namely, that she’s probably not a virgin and she’s been with other guys in the past. You would think most guys do, but the fact that Avery thought this would be yet another one of his effective ways of getting under people’s skin, illustrates that they really don’t.

I had a friend drunkenly tell me one night that he had vowed not to date anyone who had been known to hit it with Derek Jeter. I joked that, “Um, I didn’t know that this is an issue,” but, apparently, it had really happened to him. His ego could not deal with it. Which made no sense to me. What’s the difference if one of the guys she hooked up before you met her some doofus who lived next door or Derek Jeter?

It’s 2008, guys. You’re probably not meeting any virgins at that bar.  So, what does it matter who came before you? (So to speak, of course.) Logically, this makes sense. In practice though, it does bug a lot of guys, especially if the guy who came before you is some dope like Sean Avery, apparently. Avery’s sin was in the horrible choice of words he used, but the fact is, he did date those women. I would hope that Dion Phaneuf and Jarrett Stoll are secure enough for it not to bother them. Especially since I’m sure probably they already knew.

And as for Sean, I’m sure these some photographer, sleazy producer, high school boyfriend, or whatever, who saw the news of that comment on SportsCenter, and yelled at the TV, “First!”

Just a reminder, employers: The worst thing you can do to make sure someone who is not doing what they want to do with their life actually starts thinking of ways to get out is forget to pay them. I’m sure there’s a legitimate reason for the delay, but still. You can’t have that. No matter how hard someone works for you, if they don’t feel like they’re helping people, or having fun adventures, or being fulfilled on some level, the quickest way to disgruntled them is for them to not get paid when they’re supposed to.

That’s generally when a soul-sucking realization that they’re here strictly for the paycheck kicks and suddenly, maybe, just maybe, they ‘ll get serious again about waht they really want to do and how to make that happen.

So, unless you’re in an industry where you know people love being in it, and those are very few and far between, make sure your people get paid. It’s not the world’s most elegant motivational technique, but it works.

The more you know….

 

 

Every once in a while someone will make some comment about the fall of our drinking group, only to see it stay alive and thrive as a loose motley collection of people growing together, if not growing up, then growing our livers. Only a fool would pronounce the gang dead.

Since I am merely a clown, I’m just putting it on life support.

Times are bad, y’all. People hiding from the party, people worried about their status at the party, people actually being afraid and intimidated by the beautiful people. “We don’t belong here,” is a refrain I heard, hopefully, half-jokingly too often at a party a building you may have heard about recently.

What? The? Fuck?

Since when were we intimidated by people? (Mostly gay ones, actually, not that there’s anything wrong with that.) If I heard one more time about how someone couldn’t handle how beautiful the people were, I’d drink another beer. Oh, wait, that’s what I did. I mean, we never fit in! That was our calling card! We brought the party and then we dominated it until we were kicked the fuck out. That’s how we used to roll.

But like an athlete past his prime who knows it, we were hesitant, unsure of ourselves not knowing if we still had it anymore. Like George and Weezie, we had finally gotten a piece of the pie, but we thought it would be too fattening, so we ran away. Beans done burn on the grill because we goddamn abandoned it.

Where was the pride? Oh well. After years of wondering if the party is about to end, I’m getting the feeling that’s a legitimate question. Well, maybe it’s a fitting end, but I can’t believe a group that has survived near-arrests, jungle juice, ill-advised hookups, broken teeth, blood feuds, mean practical jokes, and Schaefer is going to be beaten by the greatest apartment building ever.

When it’s not just one thing over the weekend, it’s a series of little inane idiocies put together:

  • This week’s well whiskey: Lauder Reserve.
  • You need two essential things for a dinner at Yakiniku West, an excellent Japanese barbecue place in the, ironically, East Village: a reservation and clean socks.
  • Ace Bar lives up to its name when it isn’t overly crowded.
  • No, we don’t know that people know you here.
  • Least menacing potential fight since “Bridget Jones Diary”: A guy in khaki pants taking on a guy in hiked-up corduroy pants. Thank goodness security was all over that one.
  • Is the Lower East Side becoming the new Meatpacking District? It may be easier to find affordable housing there than an less-than-packed bar on a weekend night.
  • tipping your movers in whiskey slush is surprisingly effective
  • Even a fresh-off-the-boat cabdriver will not buy that your cup o’ whiskey slush for the road is really a Dunkin’ Donuts Citrus Coollata, but if he’s cool, he’ll humor you
  • Wilson Whiskey has the perfect well whiskey motto: “That’s all”
  • A bag of bags, specifically a large purse filled with increasingly smaller ones: an existential crisis wrapped around a conceptual dilemma
  • Trapped on the floor of a self-storage space is no way to spend your Saturday night, so start screaming
  • Every once in a while, after a long day, you need a solid hour of Hall and Oates at the bar
  • Creating a dance called “the JFK” where you mimic him getting shot are apparently not cool with everyone
  • You just cannot recommend to a woman by herself to take the J train to Jamaica Center at 1 am.
  • If you want to post-game at someones apartment on a Saturday night, make that decision before the blue laws kick in and you can still buy beer.
  • Drawing the curtains for unobstructed apartment windows would probably be a good idea, for those inside and outside of my bedroom.
  • A hilarious comedy-music routine can beat a stunning burlesque show
  • A DJ sing-along contest cannot beat the star of said burlesque show and her posse when they decide to take over the stage and simulate something out of Caligula
  • We are the world, we are the children
  • Someday you may find yourself leading a karaoke sing-along of ‘We are the World’ where everyone in the bar is on stage, but you have the microphone, and you may ask yourself: “How the hell did I get here?”. Then, you begin wondering: Who the hell invited Dan Aykroyd?!
  • how to lose 210 pounds in six months
  • that if you think a good bar fight is more satisfying than having an orgasm, you’re probably going to do significant jail time in many states
  • you can never know enough guys named “Manuel”
  • that you must be pretty funny if you can make a guy who doesn’t understand English laugh
  • when the Newcastle runs out, go to Brooklyn Lager
  • if you are having a record listening party, you should play the album before the free beer runs out
  • douches with synthesizers must have a lot of friends with money
  • eggs that taste like ass are still eggs and therefore, edible
  • no one ever forgets the first time they pull down a man’s pants in a crowded room
  • that people think my coat is funny
  • bad karma will always kill your “rotation”
  • there’s nothing like sweating out alcohol on an elliptical machine
  • that I’m not internationally known, but I’m known to rock the microphone.
  • that showering isn’t necessary when you’ve got good bodyspray
  • that photographs of hookers and bordellos speak to something deep within our souls, and is therefore “art”
  • Ridgewood ain’t so bad
  • Newark ain’t so bad
  • it’s all fun and games until the drunk girl with issues shows up and singlehandedly destroys the party
  • guys will take it anywhere they can get it
  • don’t be the last guy seen with two extremely drunk girls in front of a cop, because if something ever happens to them, they’ll be looking for you
  • Chase’s outrageous non-Chase ATM fees can eat a bowl of hot steaming dick
  • there’s nothing like walking in the snow
  • fake biker chicks tend to undress rather easily
  • you know it’s been a night when you need, not want, but need, those last two beers
  • hot dogs aren’t good for you, they’re just good (at 3:30 am)
  • …and that, of course, you don’t stop.