dimanche, janvier 27, 2008

In These Pants--a primer

It all began the day these girl pants lifted me into the realm of political activity
It continued when they taught me the equality of the sexes.

It reached its apex when they became the uniform of those who stand guard at gate seven of the Arena of Ideas, cradling their way through denunciations of the fat, the dumb, the fat, the pants saggers, the partisans, the protesters, the Manillows, the Goracles, the Britneys.

As for the so-called friend who summed it all up by saying something like "Your blog is all about how you are right and everyone who is not like you is stupid," let me say this: While I would never dream of judging another human being, it is incumbent upon me to point out that you are simply wrong. NOT because you are different from me. Thank God you are. But you can understand how an independent observer might mistake you for stupid given how asinine your opinion is.

Yes, these girl pants have taken my thinking parts on quite a journey. But everything we wear wears thin; and as I have searched the racks for a suitable replacement to my two pair, I have come away disappointed. The girl pants of the Now are so low, the zippers so short, the thighs so thin, there is no chance they could be worn in comfort by a man. (Conspiracy theorists get on this right away please.) But as I sit here in a recently purchased pair of sexy gray man jeans, I have great hope for the future. Because, as you might have noticed, man pants are looking more and more girly every day.

Here's to a better tomorrow.

mardi, janvier 15, 2008

senior "quotes"

It was a choice experience to be on the phone with my big time Hollywood friend, who laughed out loud as she recounted her recent evening perusing an old yearbook. Specifically, she was inspired to whimsy by my laughable senior portrait and the pitiable quote beneath it.

No one ever told me. They just said "submit this form with the quote you want under your picture." They neglected to inform me that no matter what I said in that space, it would inspire ridicule and chagrin for me and all who read it forever.

Of course, looking into the future is not within the teenage skill set. Given that, we should all look back with an eye of forbearance, if not total forgiveness--not my strong suit. Or maybe I'm particularly rankled by the exceptional stupidity of my own quote and am seeking some kind of justification. But the fact remains: the nature of the senior quote is such that there is almost no chance of success. Your shout-outs will remind you, heartbreakingly, of how misplaced your loyalties were. Your attempts at wit will make you wish you had been born before Prometheus tainted man with humor. Your attempts at wisdom will be the fodder of a thousand derisive scoffs--most of them your own.

My thoughts turned, as usual, to the poor unfortunate young ones. I thought: "It behooves those of us who look back and cringe to make at least a token effort to warn and instruct those who follow in our callow steps. The graduating seniors of the present and future need to know the senior quote is a doomed endeavor. There is an almost microscopic range of possibilities that will not embarrass you later." I thought of making a list of suggestions, such as:

Keep it simple and humble! In fact, just say two words, THANK YOU. Such a quote would be unimpeachable. Better yet, leave the space blank. 100% of your classmates will envy you for eternity.

But then, of a sudden, I realized something important. The relatively innocent distemper of having said something idiotic is a damn sight less acidic than many of my other regrets. So much so, it's almost sweet. And the ability to look back and grin at the idiocy of the people you hated or cared about--what daintier plum does the American High School experience have to offer?

Hence, I invite you to take a moment and remember your senior quote. See if you can forgive yourself. Then, have a look at those of your classmates. Enjoy a hearty chuckle. I promise, the haunting sense that you've not come very far since then only follows you in the dark for a few nights, after which you can wallow like a self satisfied swine in the folly of your now distant cronies. I hope they do the same with mine.

dimanche, janvier 06, 2008

The Britney Spears Award

I know, she just got detained, and has been through hell, and we're all just tired of hearing about her. But this is NOT piling on. This is just to review some real achievements. To give the girl her due.

Her legacy is to have inspired, in the year 2007, some of the greatest comedy ever broadcasted. The "LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!!!!" video is ubiquitous and speaks for itself. Were this all she inspired, it would suffice. But she didn't stop there.

Somewhat overlooked in the shadow of the unfortunate sobbing girlboy was Mz. Spears' inspirational achievement on Saturday Night Live, where she succeeded in using her equally ubiquitous nether regions to inspire a P.E.T.A joke that was actually hilarious. Think of it: either of those things on their own are, in truth, frightening. I'm not sure what kind of genius it takes to live in such a way that the equation: Your Genitalia + Strident Activism = Humour actually works, but she is, in this regard, groundbreaking, if nothing else.

Slightly less known was the sports columnist who advocated that Jamie-Lynn Spears name her fatherless spawn NoChance Spears. That's cruel. But I laughed out loud upon reading it, and I'm still smiling. And I'm not going to make the mistake of giving Jamie-Lynn too much credit here. She was obviously inspired by her elder sister in the way that she conceived (i.e. too young and in public).

Finally, and this one will have flown under the radar, a Sacramento Talk show host referred to our inspiration in a way that absolutely cements her place in the pantheon of whatever she is. In a conversation wherein his radio partner Joe admitted that he would engage in relations with a drunken, propositioning Britney, Jack Armstrong said: " . . . so you would sleep with the zaftig dullard?" Repeat that with me:


This might be the greatest turn of phrase in all of 2007 (look them up on dictionary.com if you must.) And we owe it all to Britney. Hence she is awarded the Britney Spears Award for Excellence in Media Inspiration.
She might not win it every year, but it will bear her name in perpetuity.

mardi, janvier 01, 2008

jumble (part first)

* Suddenly I'm convinced that Ceremony (by Joy Division/New Order) is the greatest song in the world. (See also this live version by the older, fatter New Order). Not just because Radiohead covered it on a webcast. And not just because the guy who wrote it killed himself (although, let's face it, that never hurts for sales, right Mr. Drake?) But really, what a great song.

** Where did I become convinced that boiled eggs are healthier than cooked? Can anyone help me substantiate this? Maybe I just want to advocate for all foods that come in their own hygienic biodegradable containers: Bananas, Oranges, and. . . Boiled Eggs? OK, so they're not in exactly the same category, and I can't eat one without a salt shaker in hand (another deficiency), but they're still pretty great. And unlike meat, (wherein something has to die so we can fill poisonous sink holes with pig shite) a cage free egg represents a partnership. I say to the chicken, "I'll give you room and board in exchange for your unfertilized young." (Don't call them chicken abortions, they hate that.) This is a beautiful thing. Hell, I'd take that deal. . . if only I could lay eggs.

*** I've become slightly fanatical about mountain biking; but if you ever see me in spandex, or any kind of official riding attire, shoot my tires. If I keep coming, shoot me.

**** My sister-in-law, who really is wonderful, recently tried to compare the insane crowds crying out for the death of that teacher who let her class name a teddy bear Mohamed to people in Texas who don't mind people on Death Row being executed. She honestly thought we should all make that connection. The fact that an otherwise rational, intelligent person fails to see how sadly specious this argument is constitutes incontrovertible proof that YOUR POINT IS DULLED WHEN YOU USE IT TO GRIND A POLITICAL AX. (If you caught yourself making the same connection as you read it, pull your head out.)

***** The time has come to admit that I am a closet sports junkie. I love ESPN. I treasured the opportunity to watch the New England Patriots make history last Saturday. (If you're not thrilled at the privilege of witnessing perfection in any form, you might be what Wordsworth called "dull of soul.") Yes, I follow sports. I love talking football, or baseball, or basketball, (even NASCAR once! though I'll never admit a vested interest in THAT--I stand by my theory that loyalty to any car or brand of car is one of the primary indications of red-neckitude) with various men in my circle of co-workers and relatives. But my friends do not understand. So I live a double life. Well, it's out in the open now. We'll see who my real friends are.

****** New Year's resolutions are absolutely for chumps. If a goal is important, and you are really dedicated to achieving it, then why wait for, or rely upon, some arbitrary construct to set you off? That being said, whenever January the first rolls around, I inevitably make a goal to talk less in the coming year. I'm tired of the sound of my own voice, and tired of saying stupid superfluous things. I don't know what that might mean as it pertains to blogification. We might never find out: it's a New Year's resolution, and sadly, I probably won't become the first person in history to actually keep one.