Hey folks,
I saw that a few of my friends did a collage of their facebook statuses/stati/states from 2009 as sort of a retrospective.
Like my blog, my facebook status is usually an attempt to be funny (when it is not a veiled or unveiled reference to something I am obsessed with (like Lost.))
So, I wanted to see what my status told me about my years in reverse order... so behold: (and below that are some friendster info and twitter comments just in case those sites decide to erase them.)
Facebook status messages:
2010 Resolved: 10) Take better care of myself; 9) Make a grown man cry; 8) Use my dancing skills to solve a medical mystery; 7) Finish something; 6) Spend less money; 5) Keep resolutions 4 and 5; 4) I can't think of a 4th resolution; 3) Let certain people know how amazing they are; 2) Watch more commercials; 1) Believe in myself.
"I wonder if your talents might be better unappreciated elsewhere." {Misquoting myself.} "Oh, and Happy New Year." {Directly quoting myself.}
Merry Christmas everyone. I hope you all get that new bicycle under the tree... unless you're naughty, then I just hope you don't steal that bicycle from the nice kid.
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty- that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. Oh and Hostess Cupcakes are delicious." John Keats II, CEO of Hostess Cupcakes from the seventh annual Chocolate Obeisance Convention, Saturday, May 8, 1819.
Hey everyone with over 500 facebook friends, when I get to 500 friends, will they send me a coupon for my free taco or do they actually mail me the taco (cause that could be messy)? 10 friends to go and I already taste the guacamole (but that could be from earlier today.)
With the holiday season upon us, I would like to take this opportunity (1) to sincerely apologize in advance to all of my fellow Jews and non-Christian friends for all the Christmas songs that I'll sing over the next few weeks and (2) to sarcastically apologize to all my Christian friends for butchering those songs. I'm sooo sorry. Happy holidays.
I'm in the process of selecting a nemesis. Open applications, so inquire within. Preferably, this person is (1) very different than me, or (2) very similar to me, or (3) both... (also not looking for a long-distance nemesis, though open to a short term arch-rivalry).
So, it's decided. I'm going to start and end my world tour in NYC. That's pretty exciting, except the entire middle of my world tour also takes place in NYC. Oh, and there will be no touring. So, I guess it's not that exciting.
I hope everyone took a moment to appreciate every great thing in their life... and if you did that, thank you for thinking of me. I thought of you too... unless you didn't think of me, then I didn't think of you first.
It's amazing how I can live (or at least imagine) a lifetime in the blink of an eye... but it takes me two hours to decide what to eat for breakfast.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone: please say what you are thankful for: I will start. I'm thankful for roses that you can smell without stopping specifically just to smell them: so essentially, I'm thankful for drive-by rose smellings.
The heart wants what the heart wants, and right now, what the heart wants is a sandwich.
going to take a(nother) break from facebook and the like- please know that this is not your fault... not at all... unless you use the Internet, which I guess you do, in which case, it's like 10% your fault.
How many times can I watch Glee's "Defying Gravity" in a row before it's classified as a dangerous illness? 4? 8? 15? It's contagious, so keep your distance.
Relatively true story: a team of scientists, lawyers, doctors, academics and college students took hours discussing, dissecting and deciphering this "joke" by Abed from Community: "My room has a bunk bed, which is kind of a misnomer, because it's the real deal." You get it, right?
The way I see it- yesterday was the final day of our last non-voting season and tomorrow is the first day of our next non-voting season. Today is the in-between time.
The earth travels at roughly 19 miles per second. So, basically, while I wrote this crappy message, I traveled the distance of 20 marathons. Congratulations runners, and no, I'm not jealous. (That is code for me being jealous. Seriously awesome accomplishment.)
Being selfless is a full-time job. Being selfish is more of a full-time hobby.
I just realized I forgot to issue a 'thank you' to all of the people who wished me a 'happy birthday" via facebook in March 2008. So, thank you facebook friends. I can't really remember it, but you made that birthday unforgettable. Sorry, that it's belated, but I got hung up on something else.
I'm looking for someone to blame for the health care fiasco: my doctor just tried to postpone my appointment for over two months. Democrats or Republicans? My fury can cover all parties, but I like to stay focused.
wishes all 11 of his friends a happy new year. And if he didn't wish you a happy new year, there is probably a reason. 1 of the possible reasons is that he actually doesn't wish you a happy new year. But, Happy New Year anyway.
If I can score tickets tomorrow, would anyone be down for a classy evening show of "The Nightman Cometh" at the Beacon Theater on September 16? I probably won't get tix if no one's in or if there's no seats available or if I forget or if I lose interest or if I'm still writing this status message tomorrow.
is starting to scare away his friends, and no it's not his obsession with wearing neon tube tops.
It's not always about you; it's sometimes about you... but, it's always about me.
Let the "summer of sitting down often" commence. Well, technically, it's set to drop on July 2, but until then, don't be surprised to look down and see me sitting, as I'm going to need a lot of practice.
thinks the grass IS greener on the other side. Always.
walking through central park listening to Mozart then bone thugs n harmony, then REM. Shuffling is magical. You had to be there, but you failed to be there.
is oddly looking forward to The Hangover and Drag Me to Hell, which coincidentally sound like companion films.
thinks "being himself" is a full-time job. Actually, it's more like a career because of the hours, but really it's more like an unpaid internship because of the lack of pay.
thinks if he could beat a talented 11-year old at 1 on 1 basketball (handily), then with 8 years of proper training, maybe he could go pro. What do you think? Should he scrap the plan or start packing for draft day 2017, (which is probably in NY, so he'd probably just pack a light lunch)
Y'aint never gonna take Bear Mountain (on Saturday). Who's with me?
has not had his phone since Thursday and probably will not have a new one until Thursday, so if you have called/texted or planned on calling/texting in that time frame, I will probably never get the message. After Thursday, resume not contacting me for your usual reasons
is finally sick of diet coke. So, he'll just have 3 more today, and then no more until the end of the day.
is done slouching to make you feel comfortable around him. Now, he's going to start slouching because he's just too darned lazy to fix his posture.
is thinking about purchasing his first (non-free) iphone application (against his better judgment) because local NY anchorman, Canadian Pat Kiernan, reported the app. is "awesome"
is a Mets fan who actually kind of likes the Yankees. It's the Yankee fans who are the problem... almost on the awful level of Red Sox or Phillies fans.
is thinking he could really use a cut of 3-4 fb friends. He needs those spots for other people. Anyone want to volunteer? It's kind of an honor taking one for the team.
is having trouble finding his way home, he needs a yellow brick road or preferably a golden ticket. Oh and Houston stinks.
wishes everyone a happy passover and/or easter, but only if the sentiment is returned. If not, you can go to hell. Have a great day.
is a song and dance man. He's got the Suzzy hip-hop dance lesson, followed by the Ryan karaoke fest. He's exhausted just thinking about it... so no more thinking.
wishes he could meet himself at age 9 and warn himself about all that's happened to him along the way... like the Brad-Jennifer split, followed by Brangelina, and the plot to the remake of the movie, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Little Mark would then be so much more prepared
wonders if The Wire's theme song's "keep the devil down in the hole" derives from Boccaccio's The Decameron's "put the devil into hell". Am I overthinking it or is the show a Lost-level TV show? Overthinking it, I'm pretty sure. What do you think America?
thanks everyone for mucking up his otherwise pristine fb wall. But, more importantly, he sincerely thanks his friends, for making it appear as if he has friends
thinks it's time to stop focusing on his own petty problems and time to start focusing on the world's petty problems
lost his voice or as he likes to refer to it, his moneymaker,... so no, ladies, he's sorry, but he cannot shake it for you today
will respond to Duane E. Baum's shout, "MARK ELLIS, WE NEED YOU!" with a whispered, "no" or "maybe later" or "be more specific: who needs me for what?" or "yes"
has had it with initiating conversations. He tried it for over 27 years and he feels like it's time to try something else. Your turn, everyone else.
is taking a break from this site, after facebook-stalking himself for the last week. Feel free to email or call
is wondering... if he threw a party, and invited everyone he knew, what would he see? Who would the biggest gift be from? And what would the attached card say?
thinks if Jack Bauer tortured the Lost Island and threatened its sister Islands, it would reveal all its secrets within 24 hours
should stop punishing himself with cookies and instead start consoling himself with cookies and/or resume rewarding himself with cookies
is laughing at the naysayers who wouldn't hold their breaths at the chances of How We Met Your Mother making the playoffs. Ha, y'all wasted so many breaths
just thought of 4 decent jokes melding the stimulus package and "He's Just Not That Into You," how many have jokes you got?
needs to improve his eating habits if he hopes to live forever
reread his status messages from early last year and is saddened that his dream of becoming the former second president of the United States has yet to come true
is blaming his fever for his latest obsession... and no it's not the macarena, that was his obsession from the 90's and 2004... through 2007
doesn't understand people at all... well, except you. He understands you... and he's not impressed
has finally designed his 137 year plan to take over the world. Now all he needs is patience, rubber bands, and a light blue dry erase marker
dreams of a world where the snooze button lasts an hour, but 7 minutes later, reality frightfully awakens him to this world's ugly truth: snooze is an illusion
is semi-officially running for mayor. Someone's got to take this tyrant down. He fought against soda, trans-fat, sugar, and now SALT? Why does he hate me?!?
doesn't need your validation at all. Right?
is about 48.1% great at math, 51.6% okay at math and 2.342% bad at math. {You're totally thinking... finally, a math status update}
is disappointed that the Oscar nominations are out, and Lost didn't get one nomination
lives by the credo, "Be excellent to each other," attributed to Ted "Theodore" Logan, but actually first stated by Bill S. Preston, Esq. of the Wyld Stallyns
thinks we should find some artificial way to warm the globe, but until people have that kind of power, maybe we could just burn some rainforest to keep us warm
"wonders whether anyone notices when he quotes himself. Maybe he should use some symbols to indicate when he does it."*
wonders whether anyone notices when he quotes himself. Maybe he should use some symbols to indicate when he does it.
is willing to ghost write your status messages (for a fee), but to do that he will have to know more about you and more about ghosts
is always pleasantly surprised when you want to hang out with him, but he's downright shocked whenever you assume he wants to hang out with you
is glad to be playing football again after his extended hiatus to repair his bruised ego. Now he's back to perfection
has reverted to wearing his glasses because the world does not deserve to see the wonder in his eyes... and he likes his new frames
is wishing everyone an incredibly happy new year... except for you. He has never cared for your shenanigans
is disheartened by the Jets season, but would like to thank the choking Mets for preparing him for moments like these {tear}
is picking a cabinet to help him run his life. Sec. of State? Defense? Treasury? Etc. any takers? No pay, but feel free to put it on your resume
is picking a cabinet to help him run his life. Sec. of State? Defense? Treasury? Etc. any takers? No pay, but feel free to put it on your resume
has been wary of snowfall ever since the snow killed his first pet... a goldfish. Who knew the snow + a 30 foot drop/toss would kill it? 2007 taught Mark a lot
likes that N.Y. State is thinning the herd with a tax on non-diet soda, so we'll look like we're in a stereotypical economic depression, not a psychological one
is resolving in this coming new year to... start cussing for real, at appropriate times, and give up on words like: fudge, frack, ship, crud, dang, dagnabit...
should stop rewarding himself with cookies. Instead, he should start punishing himself with cookies
almost rashly ended his relationship with Time Warner last night because she wouldn't fix his cable issues On Demand, but then he remembered the Good Times
was engulfed by an overwhelming sense of doom when (1) Pushing Daisies was cancelled (b) 8 days later, out of office diet coke (3) what terror awaits us next?!?
is extremely disappointed to learn that each tic tac is not less than one calorie, but rather... less than two calories, so he has to start cutting them in half
is trying to develop an addiction to orange flavored tic tacs
finished watching a movie marathon, featuring six time Acadamy Award winner, Kirk Lazarus, and MTV Movie Award "Best Kiss" winner, WALL-E
is going to construct his own political party and name it the Bull-Moose Party because those are his 12th and 27th favorite animals, respectively
finally got to know his neighbors yesterday (after 33 months); he learned their jobs, likes, dislikes, how they live... pretty much everything but their names
thinks you're so vain, I bet you think this status message is about you. Don't you? Well it is, but you're still so vain for thinking it
thinks you're so vain, I bet you think this status message is about you. Don't you? Well it is, but you're still so vain for thinking it
thinks that now that the country is united again, he can resume campaigning for 2020's presidency with the principle theme of reuniting the country
thinks that his two pledged votes for the 2020 presidency is a mandate, so as soon as he takes office, he's implementing his controversial "fig newton" policy
is missing one of his 309 facebook friends and can only hope that whoever it is that left Mark doesn't turn to crack to solve his/her obvious personal problems
is temporarily suspending his 2020 presidential candidacy to support our new president, to unite the country, and to pursue personal stuff (see upcoming stati)
is declaring his candidacy for the 2020 presidential election because at that time, we could use change. As your future pres., he commands you to vote today
knows that to reach that upper level, his mind, body and soul must be one
suspects that you would be impressed with how smart he thinks he is... very impressed
thinks you should trust him, because since you barely know him, he's never lied to you yet
is hoping Hamlet 2 helps him decide who to vote for; the original Hamlet led him to vote for Ross "Pelonious" Perot
is stunned how quickly things change in politics: 2 weeks ago he liked both candidates, now, he's thinking of better ways to show disappointment than not voting
dreamt of the best profile status last night, then all he remembered upon awakening, was the word "carpet" was somehow involved
has finally, after years of trying to convince doctors, been diagnosed with hypochondria... by webmd
needs only eight more gold medals to finally get his eighth gold medal
is hoping that Brett Favre can pull off wearing green
Mark is disappointed that he did not fulfill his dream of becoming former second president of the United States.
Mark is not special in anyway, except that he killed Voldemort a few times.
Mark is recognizing that his "days of not taking you seriously have come to a middle."
Mark is serving his country by answering the call of duty: jury duty. He braves the dangerous element of boredom, so justice may prevail and so he doesn't get fined.
Mark is wondering how many true friends he has, that would donate both kidneys to him, while loaning him money, and cutting the crusts off his sandwiches. Maybe 6 tops.
Mark is one and a half times the man you are, on average. Try looking yourself in the mirror knowing that.
Mark plans on becoming the former second president of the United States.
Mark is bounded in a nutshell. Nevertheless, when he is awake, he still considers himself king of infinite space.
Mark is krumping to some John Tesh.
Mark is avoiding you and your stupid face. Actually, he thinks you're a prize pig and a sharp tool.
For some reason, Facebook erased the first year of my status messages, which included some of my finest states of being. I joined in 2007, and Facebook remembers me from August 2008.
(Also note that the older ones require reading Mark or Mark Ellis before the start of the sentence.)
Twitter:
I was so cold I considered burning body parts to stay warm.
"I can't go out that night. I have to wash my hair," quoting myself.
I asked someone to be my second wheel yesterday- she said no, which is good? Cause I didn't know what it meant anyway (it sounds offensive.)
Working at 30 Rock makes me feel like I'm cheating at foursquare
Can't believe I just walked out of a movie. "Nine" is that bad.
Left in the middle of the movie Nine to tweet this... Yes, that bad.
Today, I finally use my new video-camera (for good instead of evil). Going to record my grandfather's life story... and action
Just saw Avatar, and while I liked the Smurfs, was totally rooting for the humans over the trees and the dinosaurs.
Just figured out who I am. The guy a girl talks too and can't wait to hang out with again... three months from now.
I can't go that night because "I have to return some videotapes."
I can't believe it's not New Year's yet. This year already had a couple of punctuation marks.
I just changed my 15 year plan to include: opening a restaurant: or a diner by a gas station.
1st book I read= Freaky Friday. I was 6+ it took me 6 months to read. Just watched recent movie and I forgot so much- like who's this Lohan.
Cancelled my cable. In the last ten minutes, it has barely affected my life. But, now, I'm living my life ten minutes at a time.
I finally feel healthy enough to rejoin my gym. Now, if I only feel healthy enough to get off my couch, I'm in business.
Happy Hannukah folks. Enjoy the miracle of how 1 day's worth of oil, lasted 8 days, then turn that into a car commercial.
Christmas-time in Rockefeller Center. You know what that means? Germans. Lots and lots of Germans. So, if you like Germans, come on down.
Studies show what women look for most in men: is sense of humor. I have like three senses of humor. I'm living proof- studying doesn't work.
I never know quite how much to panic, so I tend to settle for an average amount.
Thursday. Biggest tease of the week.
Stupidly asked a girl to "hang out"- a date or not a date. This is the question- clarify beforehand or leave it ambiguous? Twitter decide.
Congratulations to you for being such a unique combination of shapes and sounds... and odors.
Happy Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for gratitude, without which I would be mostly unappreciative and probably partially unappreciated.
I think I am more excited about my robo-followers, then my regular followers because they are more powerful and I don't have to impress them
I like to think of myself as "a tall drink of water" even if none of that statement is true.
Stay-at-home weekend made me long to get out of the apartment, Monday is reminding me why to stay home.
I just compared hanging out with me to an awesome chore, like making your bed, but while you are flying.
exhausted after a long night of TV... someone needs a life. Yes, I'm talking about you and all your caring about what I was doing last night
celebs=vampires- my twitter feed is filled with friends and celebs and I want to get rid of the celebs, before I remember I invited them in
Did facebook delete all of my old status messages? I wanted to make a collage out of them and give it to my grandkids.
ME stat of the day: of the last 20 IM conversations I've had: I initiated 15: 4 of the others were requests.
People don't need my meddling, no matter how flavorful it is.
wants to spend more time with himself and is flabbergasted that other people don't want to spend more time with him.
I think, after 10 or so years of existence, it is time to retire my friendster account.
100th tweet. Suck it facebook status messages.
Florida, here I come... in a week or 2
just got my NikeID sneakers, which are not as cool as I anticipated, which is exactly what I expected.
wishes all his Jew friends a happy new year, and wishes all his non-Jew friends, nothing... a happy nothing, but that's still nothing.
I can't believe it's only Wednesday; on the other hand, I can't believe it's already September. Time is the worst.
When'll googletranslate include the language of binary code? Gotta start expressing myself numerically, instead of through song.
First foray into the world of yogurt: Dannon Light & Fit, strawberry tastes like a unique combination of flouride, pepto bismo and pink
1 ME: 3 billion women in the world, and yet I'd still definitely bet against ME
The rain is an excellent way to test the mettle of new clothes. My new ties are not handling the pressure too well.
dropped like a hot potato or more accurately... something else that's not quite so hot... so actually... dropped like a very cold potato.
can't believe Maxim robbed Megan Fox of hottest woman of the year, is Maxim trying to be the 90's NBA and not give Jordan MVP every year?
Weekend's over and countdown to the weekend begins
Can't wait for the weekend... where mistakes belong.
doesn't have time to be sick, but he has all the other requirements.
over 5 years after finishing college and I'm still trying to build my extracurriculars to get into a good college.
I was named the "Susan Boyle" of the wedding. Best insult/compliment/neg I've had in awhile.
didn't drink much this weekend, so for once... the Red Cross did not take blood from him that was 5% alcohol, but it was still 7% chocolate
My casual obsession with twitter is rapidly becoming a fervent disinterest.
is debating the ethics of not following someone who is following you just to maintain a high ratio of followers to following: opinions?
Awkwardness is my defining characteristic, but believe it or not... it's also what makes me better than you. So there! I think.
is wondering whether relationships should have a safe word, like "popcorn", for when things move too fast. Also did if I heard that before?
celebrated Earth Day by finally turning off his faucet before leaving home. Next year, oven? Don't say I never did anything for you earth!
don't really appreciate the twitter term "followers". Makes me feel like I'm in the Cult of Oprah Winfrey or that Andy Samberg is my leader.
says we stretch the 5-day work week to 7 days, but stretch a week to 14 days. This way, we accomplish more each week and add free time.
is going bowling tonight, for the first time in 5 years, except if you count wii bowling. Expect me to bowl either a 60 or a 190.
Spent last night in and out of consciousness starting at 9. Kept waking up in different TV shows like John Ritter in Stay Tuned.
Did you ask me if I held an alligator by the throat today? Why yes I did.
about to pop into New Orleans for a bite to eat. Anyone interested?
just joined twitter in the never-ending pursuit of being cool. This didn't work either, did it?
I started tweeting April 2009.
How about friendster?
About Me:
I am about 5 feet 8 inches tall and built like a rock, a jagged round rock. I have wavy (curly), dark black hair that is beginning to go, and I have penetrating brown eyes that hypnotize me (or so I like to think as I stare into mirrors for twenty minutes at a time).
People tell me I have the looks to be a film star and act in such movies as Planet of the Apes or Planet of the Apes Part 2, probably because of my acting range.
I usually chew things on the left side of my mouth. Then, I sometimes move the food to the right side, so that I feel symmetrical, but I'm not. I like chocolate and ketchup on everything except each other, unless they're in a sandwich. I haven't done a cartwheel since I was ten. I want to own an apartment before owning a house. I've done more stupid things in my life than I would care to admit, but if asked properly, i would admit them. I plan to do three more stupid things.
I worship movies, I adore TV, I like sports, I tolerate books (Sports: the Jets, the football team, not the singing-dancing-finger snapping street gang, the Mets, and the Nets, Rangers when they are good. My favorite athletes of all time are Vince Carter, Michael Chang, Kevin McReynolds, Charles Oakley, and Mark Messier. I care about people and stories much more than I care about teams, which might be why I don't care about college sports at all.)
I spend my days looking over NY and overlooking NY. I've never owned a car, but I've seen many of them.
I would probably kill; correction, by the time you read this, I may have already killed FOR my family. I believe in God, but I never let that affect my day.
Overall, I guess I am pretty typical, probably even a stereotype, Jewish lawyer from a close first generation family, living in my one bedroom shoebox apt. on the upper East side of New York. (Please send all complaints to the address not listed above.)
How much more me may I reveal without squandering my sex appeal?
o Who I Want to Meet:
I would like to meet someone who is not fake at all and laughs at all my jokes, but if my jokes are not funny, she laughs anyway.
This person must also not be averse to holding hands with strangers she meets in an alley and not against wearing cotton T Shirts.
Really, I would like to meet someone with a vision, or multiple visions, like a prophet, but not a prophet because I am easily intimidated.
If possible, I would like this person to have a special power like superstrength, superspeed, or exceptional hearing, so that she would be fun at even the lamest of parties.
To sum up, I would like to meet someone who laughs hysterically, has visions, and hears things.
Is there any normal person out there that fits that description?
But, since I have found from various messages (and therapists) that no one does meet that description, I would settle for old friends, new friends, acquaintances who I don't care for, and strangers who want a piece of this.
Hopefully, you all learned something from this. I didn't.
Best,
Papa Bear
Monday, December 21, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Home Stories
Yo,
I've lived in New York all of my life. Sure, I spent 3 1/2 years in Philadelphia, but I was home over the summers and never changed my permanent address away from my city. (You could make an argument that I spent over a year of my life in Spain, but that is scattered through about 7 different summers, so that does not count either.)
Over the course of my 30 years on this planet, I have encountered a few moments in time that captured a spirit of New York that I have grown to loath and appreciate simultaneously. Below are three stories that are unique to NY's melting pot. Two of them are tales of the homeless, but that is because the first tale I tell is from about a month ago and it haunts me still.
1) The Cautionary Tale
Before I get into the story itself, let me tell you a lot about my neighborhood of the past four years, Manhattan's Upper East Side. Once a bastion of blue-blooded wealth and power, it is now a haven for several distinct sectors of society. There are still the Gossip Girl elite who reside in the area, but feel the need to commute to other locales to be "spotted". The neighborhood has diversified by adding a number of projects and a series of frat bars. It's like an episode of The Real World from ten years ago, when it was a social experiment, rather than what it now, a faux drama.
My particular place in the neighborhood is less pronounced and is related to a prominent hospital/medical school in the neighborhood. I have an uncle and aunt who live a half a block from me and are part of this hospital's wide net. When I was finding my place to live was that when I was looking for a place to live, I was crazy busy at work and so I hired a broker to try to find cheap apartments to rent. The broker described the Upper East Side as "the best bang for your buck". Of course, the deciding factor was that my brother was about to be brought into the same hospital area for his new job. With my brother about to move in, close family nearby and the best bang for your buck, I made the easy choice.
1) The Cautionary Tale: Take 2
On my way home from work, I am walking by one of the popular frat bars in my neighborhood and see two people making out. The girl is aggressively pushing the willing man into the glass window. Her face repeatedly lunges at his face and neck. Upon first glance, I couldn't care less, but my interest piques when I see the fascination of the people around the bar. It's like the first time they had ever seen a public display of affection.
So, I started unwittingly rubbernecking to figure out what great mystery was taking place outside the bar. Was one of them a celebrity? Finally, the moment of truth arrives. In one of her breaks for air, I looked at the girl, who was dressed for a night on the town, with a short skirt and she appeared to be under 30 (I'm bad with age). She was neither particularly attractive nor particularly unattractive, so I looked at the guy. I recognized him. No, he's not a celebrity, nor is he a friend. He is one of our neighborhood homeless and yes, he meets the stereotype by sporting fewer than 10 teeth and smelling like a foot sandwich.
Party girl was totally making out with a homeless guy. And those people in the bar gawking at her seemed to know her. Some were even laughing, while others had sheer disgust on their faces. I have no reason to doubt that she was drunk and frankly I kindof assumed she was. But, there you go. That's New York.
Some of you are thinking: hey Papa Bear, why didn't you stop this travesty? I have been known to get involved in the lives of strangers, but two consenting adults can mostly do what they please. And I did consider getting involved, but only for a split second before I took into consideration that she was the person that was all over him. (He was not unwilling, but she was clearly the aggressor.) Would I have done anything if it was the other way around? Honestly, I have no idea and I doubt it, but I did not have to make that decision.
Some of you are thinking: hey Papa Bear, it's classist for you to think this is disgusting (maybe racist too, as they were of different races). Oh, I thought of that too... one of my initial thoughts were, "everybody's got a type". While I don't know much about evaluating the relative attractiveness of men, some women prefer a grungier look. And his style was straight out of Derelicte (Zoolander reference). Maybe I was a little too disturbed by the image, but I thought it was noteworthy and as I mentioned, it continues to weigh on me a month later. Maybe the part that got me was the possibility that this guy who does not groom himself, has no home, makes no effort still does much better with women than I do, or maybe I was just totally totally grossed out. He is homeless, but he might have had a place to stay that night. Hey, it's New York.
2) Subway Business
I figured I would tell you a second homeless person story, just so you get the full gamut of New York life. Again, I was just an observer, but the story struck a chord within me and I hope it does the same for you.
About a year ago, I was riding the subway to get from work to home, which is about a ten minute ride, and a man gets on the train with me. There are many other people on the train, but it is not crowded. The man sprawls out and makes a two person seat his own. I remember wondering whether the man was homeless, given that he was haggard with an unkempt blondish-brown beard and was wearing very ragged military garb. And while his elbows were leaning on his knees, he was poised and he could have just been exhibiting the common symptoms of a long day of hard work... or he could have been hunkering down for the night and establishing his rest stop. (I was standing opposite him, leaning on the subway door, probably because we've been told not to lean on the doors in both English and Spanish and I'm a rebel in both English and Spanish.) For the purposes of the story, I'll call the guy The Vet because of his clothes, not based on any additional information.
At the next stop, another man comes in who is far more haggard than the man sitting down and he quickly establishes his homelessness presence by beginning his routine requesting change (this guy was totally out of it, so his routine was weak.) As the homeless guy was passing, the Vet takes a dollar out of his pocket and puts it into the homeless guy's cup. I vaguely remember the Vet wishing the man luck, but that could be memory's natural hyperbole. This should resolve the question about whether the Vet is homeless, right? As the train pulls into the next station, another man enters the car and he also appears unnaturally weathered by life. This man goes straight into his financial request without any routine. But I will call him The Talker.
Right away, the Talker confronts the Vet and asks him for money. Rather than deny him outright, the Vet explains that he can't give out money because he just gave another homeless man a dollar. The Talker does a quick double take and re-asks the Vet if he could also have a dollar considering the Vet gave the other man a dollar. The Vet responds that he was out of money because he too "works the trains." The Talker becomes intrigued (as do I). The Vet responds to the unasked question, and I'll paraphrase "this morning, a woman opened up her wallet to me and just gave me everything in it. It was $73 and I shared it with whoever asked. Now, I'm out." The Talker befuddled, responds "if it were me, I would keep it." The Vet explains, "I had to share it cause if I didn't, I would use it on my vices."
Let that sink in. "I had to share it cause if I didn't, I would use it on my vices."
The Talker continues to question the Vet, but I could not hear all of their conversation because of the roar of the trains, but I did get to see the Talker display his interest in the Vet's tale by swinging back and forth on a pole; it was more of a sway, then a dance, but it was certainly elaborate.
Then... I heard the following,
The Talker: "where do you stay?"
The Vet: "St. [gargled] Place. The people are good over there."
The Talker: "I'm there too."
The Vet: "You probably know my wife, Margaret, dirty blonde hair..." [Not sure it was Margaret, but it was something like Margaret.]
The Talker interrupts: "Sure I know her, she's so nice."
The Vet: "Yeah, she's friendly. She's actually working this train two cars down."
The Talker is baffled, probably putting the sorted pieces together as quickly as I am, that this guy is giving away his money, while his wife is collecting money, but ignores it.
The Talker: "Cool. I'll say hi to her when I work my way over there."
The Vet: "Yeah, we really have to spread out more because some of these trains are too crowded with us and others lines don't have any of us working."
It was at this point, that I had to leave the train, even though I was riveted by the conversation and fascinated by the social dynamics of the situation. I wanted to stay on or at least give the guy a $20 to see what he would do, but alas I did not. I played my part and I heard the tale and then I moved on affected, but unaltered. I have not seen either of those two guys since then, so I can make lots of assumptions about what happened to them, but I suppose the most logical assumption would be that he took his own advice and spread to a train line with less competition. So, that too is New York.
3) The Villain
My third and final New York tale for the day is a sordid one, and in this story, I am not a fly on the wall, but rather I am the villain. I was about 13 years old and had lived half of my life in Queens and the second half of my life on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. For those of you who don't know, NYC was salvaged by the 90's (I give a lot of credit to former Mayor Rudy Giuliani, even if you don't.) By 1993 the Upper West Side (at least the part near me) was part strong growth potential with Central Park and Lincoln Center and part deserted wasteland, which was everything else. But, since then, (and even today,) that portion of the Upper West Side was a place known for Bohemian middle class families who appreciate the finer Bohemian things. And one of the staples of the community is a grocery store that totally fits in with the neighborhood and possibly, (along with the aforementioned landmarks,) helped shape the neighborhood. That place is Fairway.
The prices are much better than those anywhere nearby and the quality of the food is good, but there is something sinister to Fairway. There is an undertone of cut-throated competitiveness. Even walking by the place during peak hours can put a person on edge. It is filled with people who want their high quality low-priced food so badly they would kill for it. Case in point: ME.
3) The Villain: Take 2
So, again, I am 13 years old and it is the first time I entered Fairway in years. I am with an uncle of mine who appreciates Fairway as much as anyone and once he entered the store ran towards the fish counter in the back of the store. I was more tentative. I was an awkward 13 year old and the unnecessary pressure of this atmosphere made me even more timid. So, people were cutting me left and right. I would not be exaggerating if I told you within one minute of being in that wretched haven, 20 people bumped into me hard, with reckless abandon and without remorse.
I tried to avoid people on my way to the back, but that did not work. By the time, I got there, my nerves were totally on edge, but still I tried to find a spot out of harm's way (and out of anyone's way.) There was no such spot. So, people pushed me and pulled me and bumped me, until my uncle was finally at the front of the line reading his rather large order.
I turned around and my turn knocked an old lady down.
The lady looked at me with disgust, but surprisingly nobody else missed a beat. Bystanders stepped over her with supernatural dexterity and unparalleled determination. As the lady worked her way back up to try to cut me in the fish line, (which I was not even on,) only one thought ran through my head...
"And stay down!"
I did not say it, but I definitely thought it. She was spry and was on her feet in no time, before I could fight my way through five inches worth of people to get to her. Obviously she was much more upset about having to wait an extra 30 seconds on line, then the fact that she was knocked down. She lost that battle with me and that pissed her off even more at herself (and me). I, on the other hand, for a moment, remembered that I was not actually in a human jungle and announced to my uncle, "I'll wait outside."
So that's Fairway- the top quality product, but you have to fight tooth and nail for anything, but that's New York.
As an epilogue to that story, my cousin, the son of that uncle wrote a short story for school as if he was the person who knocked the old lady down. I believe his story was more graphic, but mine happened to me. But, it's Fairway and it would not surprise if this sort of thing happened every week or if he just liked the story and used it. But, that's New York too, people take everything from you here.
So, what have we learned from this blog post?
A) I weave myself into all of my stories.
B) NY is filled with homeless people.
C) Segments of the homeless populace live full lives whether it's making out with girls at bars or having a wife and a panhandling business plan.
D) NY can make you cold and unfeeling.
E) NY is very concerned with the state of itself. Philadelphia and Boston have inferiority complexes. They think: "See we are better than NY at [insert something here.]"
But NY does not care about those cities, and instead looks at a mirror and thinks, "I guess I could use a Walmart, but would it make me look fat?"
Alas, I'm probably going to live here for the rest of my life or at least until I move out of here.
Don't get me wrong. I love NY, my parents are here, my grandfather is here, my aunts and uncles and cousins are here, most of my friends are here, my life is here, but I got to get out of this town. If only I could live on a farm (without any of those pesky animals or plants)... in the middle of Manhattan. Despite these tales of woe, the depravity, the vermin, the assorted odors, the lack of space, the over-crowding, the noise pollution, the pollution pollution, the crazies and some really bad things, it's the best goshdarn town in the whole world.
Hope you enjoyed our tour of my homeland,
The Papa Bear (ME)
I've lived in New York all of my life. Sure, I spent 3 1/2 years in Philadelphia, but I was home over the summers and never changed my permanent address away from my city. (You could make an argument that I spent over a year of my life in Spain, but that is scattered through about 7 different summers, so that does not count either.)
Over the course of my 30 years on this planet, I have encountered a few moments in time that captured a spirit of New York that I have grown to loath and appreciate simultaneously. Below are three stories that are unique to NY's melting pot. Two of them are tales of the homeless, but that is because the first tale I tell is from about a month ago and it haunts me still.
1) The Cautionary Tale
Before I get into the story itself, let me tell you a lot about my neighborhood of the past four years, Manhattan's Upper East Side. Once a bastion of blue-blooded wealth and power, it is now a haven for several distinct sectors of society. There are still the Gossip Girl elite who reside in the area, but feel the need to commute to other locales to be "spotted". The neighborhood has diversified by adding a number of projects and a series of frat bars. It's like an episode of The Real World from ten years ago, when it was a social experiment, rather than what it now, a faux drama.
My particular place in the neighborhood is less pronounced and is related to a prominent hospital/medical school in the neighborhood. I have an uncle and aunt who live a half a block from me and are part of this hospital's wide net. When I was finding my place to live was that when I was looking for a place to live, I was crazy busy at work and so I hired a broker to try to find cheap apartments to rent. The broker described the Upper East Side as "the best bang for your buck". Of course, the deciding factor was that my brother was about to be brought into the same hospital area for his new job. With my brother about to move in, close family nearby and the best bang for your buck, I made the easy choice.
1) The Cautionary Tale: Take 2
On my way home from work, I am walking by one of the popular frat bars in my neighborhood and see two people making out. The girl is aggressively pushing the willing man into the glass window. Her face repeatedly lunges at his face and neck. Upon first glance, I couldn't care less, but my interest piques when I see the fascination of the people around the bar. It's like the first time they had ever seen a public display of affection.
So, I started unwittingly rubbernecking to figure out what great mystery was taking place outside the bar. Was one of them a celebrity? Finally, the moment of truth arrives. In one of her breaks for air, I looked at the girl, who was dressed for a night on the town, with a short skirt and she appeared to be under 30 (I'm bad with age). She was neither particularly attractive nor particularly unattractive, so I looked at the guy. I recognized him. No, he's not a celebrity, nor is he a friend. He is one of our neighborhood homeless and yes, he meets the stereotype by sporting fewer than 10 teeth and smelling like a foot sandwich.
Party girl was totally making out with a homeless guy. And those people in the bar gawking at her seemed to know her. Some were even laughing, while others had sheer disgust on their faces. I have no reason to doubt that she was drunk and frankly I kindof assumed she was. But, there you go. That's New York.
Some of you are thinking: hey Papa Bear, why didn't you stop this travesty? I have been known to get involved in the lives of strangers, but two consenting adults can mostly do what they please. And I did consider getting involved, but only for a split second before I took into consideration that she was the person that was all over him. (He was not unwilling, but she was clearly the aggressor.) Would I have done anything if it was the other way around? Honestly, I have no idea and I doubt it, but I did not have to make that decision.
Some of you are thinking: hey Papa Bear, it's classist for you to think this is disgusting (maybe racist too, as they were of different races). Oh, I thought of that too... one of my initial thoughts were, "everybody's got a type". While I don't know much about evaluating the relative attractiveness of men, some women prefer a grungier look. And his style was straight out of Derelicte (Zoolander reference). Maybe I was a little too disturbed by the image, but I thought it was noteworthy and as I mentioned, it continues to weigh on me a month later. Maybe the part that got me was the possibility that this guy who does not groom himself, has no home, makes no effort still does much better with women than I do, or maybe I was just totally totally grossed out. He is homeless, but he might have had a place to stay that night. Hey, it's New York.
2) Subway Business
I figured I would tell you a second homeless person story, just so you get the full gamut of New York life. Again, I was just an observer, but the story struck a chord within me and I hope it does the same for you.
About a year ago, I was riding the subway to get from work to home, which is about a ten minute ride, and a man gets on the train with me. There are many other people on the train, but it is not crowded. The man sprawls out and makes a two person seat his own. I remember wondering whether the man was homeless, given that he was haggard with an unkempt blondish-brown beard and was wearing very ragged military garb. And while his elbows were leaning on his knees, he was poised and he could have just been exhibiting the common symptoms of a long day of hard work... or he could have been hunkering down for the night and establishing his rest stop. (I was standing opposite him, leaning on the subway door, probably because we've been told not to lean on the doors in both English and Spanish and I'm a rebel in both English and Spanish.) For the purposes of the story, I'll call the guy The Vet because of his clothes, not based on any additional information.
At the next stop, another man comes in who is far more haggard than the man sitting down and he quickly establishes his homelessness presence by beginning his routine requesting change (this guy was totally out of it, so his routine was weak.) As the homeless guy was passing, the Vet takes a dollar out of his pocket and puts it into the homeless guy's cup. I vaguely remember the Vet wishing the man luck, but that could be memory's natural hyperbole. This should resolve the question about whether the Vet is homeless, right? As the train pulls into the next station, another man enters the car and he also appears unnaturally weathered by life. This man goes straight into his financial request without any routine. But I will call him The Talker.
Right away, the Talker confronts the Vet and asks him for money. Rather than deny him outright, the Vet explains that he can't give out money because he just gave another homeless man a dollar. The Talker does a quick double take and re-asks the Vet if he could also have a dollar considering the Vet gave the other man a dollar. The Vet responds that he was out of money because he too "works the trains." The Talker becomes intrigued (as do I). The Vet responds to the unasked question, and I'll paraphrase "this morning, a woman opened up her wallet to me and just gave me everything in it. It was $73 and I shared it with whoever asked. Now, I'm out." The Talker befuddled, responds "if it were me, I would keep it." The Vet explains, "I had to share it cause if I didn't, I would use it on my vices."
Let that sink in. "I had to share it cause if I didn't, I would use it on my vices."
The Talker continues to question the Vet, but I could not hear all of their conversation because of the roar of the trains, but I did get to see the Talker display his interest in the Vet's tale by swinging back and forth on a pole; it was more of a sway, then a dance, but it was certainly elaborate.
Then... I heard the following,
The Talker: "where do you stay?"
The Vet: "St. [gargled] Place. The people are good over there."
The Talker: "I'm there too."
The Vet: "You probably know my wife, Margaret, dirty blonde hair..." [Not sure it was Margaret, but it was something like Margaret.]
The Talker interrupts: "Sure I know her, she's so nice."
The Vet: "Yeah, she's friendly. She's actually working this train two cars down."
The Talker is baffled, probably putting the sorted pieces together as quickly as I am, that this guy is giving away his money, while his wife is collecting money, but ignores it.
The Talker: "Cool. I'll say hi to her when I work my way over there."
The Vet: "Yeah, we really have to spread out more because some of these trains are too crowded with us and others lines don't have any of us working."
It was at this point, that I had to leave the train, even though I was riveted by the conversation and fascinated by the social dynamics of the situation. I wanted to stay on or at least give the guy a $20 to see what he would do, but alas I did not. I played my part and I heard the tale and then I moved on affected, but unaltered. I have not seen either of those two guys since then, so I can make lots of assumptions about what happened to them, but I suppose the most logical assumption would be that he took his own advice and spread to a train line with less competition. So, that too is New York.
3) The Villain
My third and final New York tale for the day is a sordid one, and in this story, I am not a fly on the wall, but rather I am the villain. I was about 13 years old and had lived half of my life in Queens and the second half of my life on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. For those of you who don't know, NYC was salvaged by the 90's (I give a lot of credit to former Mayor Rudy Giuliani, even if you don't.) By 1993 the Upper West Side (at least the part near me) was part strong growth potential with Central Park and Lincoln Center and part deserted wasteland, which was everything else. But, since then, (and even today,) that portion of the Upper West Side was a place known for Bohemian middle class families who appreciate the finer Bohemian things. And one of the staples of the community is a grocery store that totally fits in with the neighborhood and possibly, (along with the aforementioned landmarks,) helped shape the neighborhood. That place is Fairway.
The prices are much better than those anywhere nearby and the quality of the food is good, but there is something sinister to Fairway. There is an undertone of cut-throated competitiveness. Even walking by the place during peak hours can put a person on edge. It is filled with people who want their high quality low-priced food so badly they would kill for it. Case in point: ME.
3) The Villain: Take 2
So, again, I am 13 years old and it is the first time I entered Fairway in years. I am with an uncle of mine who appreciates Fairway as much as anyone and once he entered the store ran towards the fish counter in the back of the store. I was more tentative. I was an awkward 13 year old and the unnecessary pressure of this atmosphere made me even more timid. So, people were cutting me left and right. I would not be exaggerating if I told you within one minute of being in that wretched haven, 20 people bumped into me hard, with reckless abandon and without remorse.
I tried to avoid people on my way to the back, but that did not work. By the time, I got there, my nerves were totally on edge, but still I tried to find a spot out of harm's way (and out of anyone's way.) There was no such spot. So, people pushed me and pulled me and bumped me, until my uncle was finally at the front of the line reading his rather large order.
I turned around and my turn knocked an old lady down.
The lady looked at me with disgust, but surprisingly nobody else missed a beat. Bystanders stepped over her with supernatural dexterity and unparalleled determination. As the lady worked her way back up to try to cut me in the fish line, (which I was not even on,) only one thought ran through my head...
"And stay down!"
I did not say it, but I definitely thought it. She was spry and was on her feet in no time, before I could fight my way through five inches worth of people to get to her. Obviously she was much more upset about having to wait an extra 30 seconds on line, then the fact that she was knocked down. She lost that battle with me and that pissed her off even more at herself (and me). I, on the other hand, for a moment, remembered that I was not actually in a human jungle and announced to my uncle, "I'll wait outside."
So that's Fairway- the top quality product, but you have to fight tooth and nail for anything, but that's New York.
As an epilogue to that story, my cousin, the son of that uncle wrote a short story for school as if he was the person who knocked the old lady down. I believe his story was more graphic, but mine happened to me. But, it's Fairway and it would not surprise if this sort of thing happened every week or if he just liked the story and used it. But, that's New York too, people take everything from you here.
So, what have we learned from this blog post?
A) I weave myself into all of my stories.
B) NY is filled with homeless people.
C) Segments of the homeless populace live full lives whether it's making out with girls at bars or having a wife and a panhandling business plan.
D) NY can make you cold and unfeeling.
E) NY is very concerned with the state of itself. Philadelphia and Boston have inferiority complexes. They think: "See we are better than NY at [insert something here.]"
But NY does not care about those cities, and instead looks at a mirror and thinks, "I guess I could use a Walmart, but would it make me look fat?"
Alas, I'm probably going to live here for the rest of my life or at least until I move out of here.
Don't get me wrong. I love NY, my parents are here, my grandfather is here, my aunts and uncles and cousins are here, most of my friends are here, my life is here, but I got to get out of this town. If only I could live on a farm (without any of those pesky animals or plants)... in the middle of Manhattan. Despite these tales of woe, the depravity, the vermin, the assorted odors, the lack of space, the over-crowding, the noise pollution, the pollution pollution, the crazies and some really bad things, it's the best goshdarn town in the whole world.
Hope you enjoyed our tour of my homeland,
The Papa Bear (ME)
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Image Everything
About a year ago, I bought my first camera. It was a canon. About 2 months ago, I lost that camera and bought a new camera. It was a canon. I asked the people at the counter at the Best Buy for which product was best, but really, I watch a tremendous amount of TV and I am an advertisers dream. I buy products I've heard of. I buy products I remember - I'd heard of kodak and I know some other companies that make cameras, but don't specialize in them, so I opted for the one whose slogan I remembered from 10 years ago.
Image is everything.
About 4 months ago, I quoted the same slogan in my best man toast at my brother's wedding. Image is everything. As far as I can tell, it worked with my theme, it worked for my brother and it connected with the audience.
Why did I remember this? Because as far as I can tell, Agassi did to Canon what Jordan did to Nike. He took a solid company and by virtue of one celebrity's image transformed it into a dominant company in the industry. He was that powerful a sports figure, even though he only played tennis, not one of the big 4 sports in the United States and not even soccer. Frankly, tennis does not have close to the financial impact that golf does, as suggested by the yearly salaries of Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson. And it does not have the same mass appeal that driving fast does in the United States or abroad. He played tennis.
We all know from his recent retirement that Agassi has done a lot of good important philanthropic work over the past 15 years. We all know that he was married to Brooke Shields and after they got divorced he wed tennis overlord Steffie Graff. We all know that he started off as a "rebel" with incredible tennis skill and then went through a slump, and just when the last of his supporters was beginning to think his career had winded down, he transformed into the hardest working gritty tennis player around and made a legendary resurgence. We all know that he had a storied rivalry with fellow U.S. tennis superstar and his seeming opposite Pete Sampras. But, what we did not know could fill a frighteningly large book.
So, he wrote it. People talk about the drugs and the hair and the depression and the lifts and the tennis-hatred, but they are missing the point... the drugs. Okay, so they are not missing the point. But, to be fair, it kind of all makes sense- mostly. Here's a guy who hates tennis, so he defies it. He keeps hating tennis, so he turns to drugs. He hates the attention, but he coddles it by marrying a star. He is incredibly insecure, so he embraces youth conventions. It does not make total sense, but it's not far-fetched either.
Do I believe it? Absolutely. It's pretty self-incriminating and self-deprecating without being funny at all. The better question is why did he tell it and the better question is what reaction did he expect?
Let's start with the better question. Does Agassi need the money? It's possible that years of living like a rock star on an athlete's salary (which was not a salary and was sizeable plus endorsements) for so many years has left him without funds to amply support his growing family. But, Graff made some loot too. Is it possible that his charitable works, in particular his Vegas school project has tapped him dry? Doubtful, but possible. Is it possible that it is an elaborate ploy to make more money, with which he can contribute to his charities? Yes. But, there had to be an easier way.
So, while the money probably contributed to his decision, the fact that he could have made the same amount of money from going around the country giving speeches, it was probably not the prime mover. There are a myriad of possibilities, but in my head, I have narrowed down my search into three main categories: inspiration, catharsis and vanity.
I'd like to rule out inspiration because while he may have inspired drug addicts, he simultaneously may have lost a tremendous amount of fans who are disillusioned by the drug use. He is no longer the story about what you can achieve if you work hard, his is the story about what you can achieve if you don't care. And even though I will discuss that Agassi had drastically underestimated the impact of his revelations, he is not stupid and he must have understood that the narrative would change. He must have understood that not only would his name be associated with tennis legend, Gen X hero, comeback story, celebrity prince, but he would also be crystal meth user. Parents don't tell your kids the tale of Andre Agassi, it's no Grimm's Fairy Tale, cause this is real and scary. So, while the thought of inspiring young drug addicts probably entered his head, he probably did not write this book primarily for them.
I'd like to rule out catharsis too because he basically made his death bed confessions in the prime of his life while he is seemingly happily married and enjoying his family and his place in the world, but I can't do that. I would have to know more about him or at least read the book to figure out how much of what he did was for his own spiritual gratification. They say the truth shall set you free. And while, sometimes that is more than true, sometimes the truth can get you thrown in jail (by the way, I am not taking a position about whether or not there is a criminal culpability here, despite my legal knowledge because I do not know where he committed these actions and while the statute of limitations surely passed, there are potential tolling based on extra-jurisdictional exceptions (i.e. when you are outside of a state, the clock on the statute of limitations may temporarily stop.) And, I'm not going to make this into a political policy decision about whether we should lighten the criminality of drug-use, which can alternately be characterized as a personal weakness, an addiction, a disease, a symptom of a disease, etc.) Moreover, the truth can imprison others. That is why when a person commits a single marital indiscretion, they are often counseled by their spouse's loved ones not to reveal their error. Agassi was cheating on us... with drugs. Maybe he shouldn't have told us. (I take no position on this issue either.) And while the truth shall set you free, ignorance is bliss.
So again, I can't really speak to how cathartic the experience was for the man, not only sharing his intimate flaws with his loved ones, but sharing it with the whole world. So, I will discount the theory not based on my understanding, but based on convenience because it does not serve my purposes.
So, that only leaves one possibility. Vanity. How can it be vain for a person to confess his insecurities about his baldness, his height, his hard-drug use when his image is at its apex and it will obviously diminish from these stories. Vanity. Agassi has a complex relationship with the media and with his celebrity. He often shuns it, but he often nurtures it. Agassi like many celebrities does not want to be hounded about his daily bowel movements, but nor does he want to be irrelevant or a relic. Ad Agassi is famously good at adapting his celebrity from his choice of partners, to his stylistic flair to his extravagant hairstyles and even to his level of effort on the tennis court. And now, Agassi has adapted.
He adapted from his youth to his adulthood with his change of hairstyle. He adapted from his immaturity to his maturity with his change of wife (no disrespect to Shields, but that marriage from my limited understanding seemed like a bit of a PR stunt). And now, he's adapting from old to new celebrity by moving from the 90's maverick to the 00's reality star. People want to see the foibles of their new celebrities and Agassi is willing be the much maligned Jon or Kate to be relevant. He is willing to be Puck to be important. He is willing to be the vilified Richard Hatch and bare it all to be the celebrity Survivor (how about those dated references). So, Agassi, who was about to settle into a relatively quiet life in Nevada made a comeback... yet again.
Well, this brings us to our second question- what did he expect? Sure, Martina Navratilova's reaction that Agassi is like Clemens is not only bizarre, but also inaccurate. Crystal meth is by my understanding, not a performance enhancing drug like steroids or speed or cocaine. Those drugs allow you to train harder, build muscle mass, or in the case of Lawrence Taylor frighten the adversary into the fetal position. From my understanding, a drug like crystal meth is more along the lines of heroin (from watching Breaking Bad,) which gives you the added ability to pass out while pissing yourself. Not so heroic now, are you Andre? But, now instead of heroism or achievement making you a celebrity, becoming a celebrity makes you a hero and the act of becoming a celebrity is the achievement. Agassi gets it. He was a hero back in the day by defying the man and still winning. Then, he became an adult hero by showing up to work every day, working hard and triumphing over the odds and over the younger crowd. Now, he is becoming the newer kind of hero because he is staying famous and he will soil his name however he has to make it so. But, I digress.
Okay, so he could not have expected people to compare him to Clemens (it's also funny that comparing an athlete to one of the greatest pitchers of all time is an insult). And though she tried to make the issue about lying, lying to a sporting body is hardly a high crime. Moreover, most people tell white lies all the time. It is more than likely that closeted athletes are even until this day lying to the general public about their sexual exploits for fear of the truth's unfortunate reprisals. So, Martina, was it because it was an official response, was it because of the nature of the lie or was it because of something I'm missing. An official response theory makes some sense because when caught we want people to fall on their swords. But, that is not what happens. In fact, in probably near half the criminal cases in the country, people begin by pleading not guilty, then if they are placed into a tight corner, they change their plea. That is not what happened here. Here, he pled not guilty, he was exonerated and then he confessed (possibly out of feeling guilty or remorse (unless it was out of gloating, but that does not seem to be the case)). While, it is not as honorable as never having committed the crime and not even as honorable as falling on his sword (which would probably have resulted in a suspension, a slap on the wrist and/or rehab/testing out of concern for Agassi's well being), it is more honorable than getting away with it (and not feeling remorse) or changing your story when you have no choice. However you feel about it, he could have handled it in a worse way, so he's not evil for his lying. As discussed above, the nature of the lie was about a drug that was harmful to himself and not particularly harmful to others (unless you consider the wider effects of drugs in our culture) and did not help him in tennis. So, I must be missing something.
But, what about Federer or Nadal or Safin? Could he have expected that there would be calls that he should give back his money and his titles? Yes. He didn't, but he should have considered a legitimate possibility. These are intensely competitive people in a field where Agassi was glorified for almost everything he did. They are trying to protect the integrity of a sport that is dogged by shocking scandals and a filthy lint-filled, puss-infected underbelly, which most casual fans remain blissfully ignorant of (including throwing games, gambling, mafia involvement to say the least.) Tennis is like the boxing of sports (that did not come out right.) Sure, they are overreacting, but it's not unexpected that some people would overreact.
What is more surprising is Agassi's rebuttal, which Katie Couric's softball questions laid bare. It's unclear whether it was Agassi's expectation or his hope, but Agassi asked for compassion. That's not how compassion works. It's not delivered upon request. If he had fallen on his sword in full remorse, there would have been a large group of people who leant out their hands. Instead, he kept stressing that it was a "recreational drug" like it's a drug you might use while playing tennis. He said, have compassion for me cause I had problems. He wanted sympathy. He wanted the world to feel sorry for him. I understand, Andre, you had a rough childhood, you worked really hard, you hated your job and you were in an unhappy marriage. We all get it. Most people have some if not all of these problems and still most people avoid crystal meth. People make mistakes and other people are more than willing to forgive those mistakes, but don't ask me for compassion. You're akin to the homeless guy that asks you for money and tries to make you feel bad that you didn't give it. It's my compassion and I get to dole it out as I please. I worked hard for this compassion.
But, the truth is, the guy was my brother's idol growing up and while I was a Michael Chang man in tennis (and preferred Pete Sampras,) my brother's adoration had a profound impact on me. I admired his life change ten years ago and I now acknowledge that his change is all the greater in that he also secretly gave up drugs to make his first comeback. And this is hard for me to say because I'm incredibly self-righteous and judgmental, (just ask anyone that knows me,) I also acknowledge that I'm incredibly flawed and make countless mistakes for which I could use forgiveness, so I am in no position to judge. Thus, while I might not give Agassi all the compassion he is looking for, I do give him some spare compassion.
After all, he is the one that brought me and my camera together. And in the last year or so, I have taken something like 3000 pictures, so that I can document my own life and my own faults. And I put my life on facebook and blogs without a thousandth of the candidness that Agassi probably did. But, to be fair, I'm heeding Agassi's immortal advice and I'm crafting my own image. So, thank you Andre Agassi and for what it's worth, I don't think they should strip you of your winnings or your titles, but I do think this has done a substantial amount to strip you of your dignity. And from what I gathered so far, this book is really another unbelievable return.
Don't call it a comeback,
The Papa Bear
Image is everything.
About 4 months ago, I quoted the same slogan in my best man toast at my brother's wedding. Image is everything. As far as I can tell, it worked with my theme, it worked for my brother and it connected with the audience.
Why did I remember this? Because as far as I can tell, Agassi did to Canon what Jordan did to Nike. He took a solid company and by virtue of one celebrity's image transformed it into a dominant company in the industry. He was that powerful a sports figure, even though he only played tennis, not one of the big 4 sports in the United States and not even soccer. Frankly, tennis does not have close to the financial impact that golf does, as suggested by the yearly salaries of Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson. And it does not have the same mass appeal that driving fast does in the United States or abroad. He played tennis.
We all know from his recent retirement that Agassi has done a lot of good important philanthropic work over the past 15 years. We all know that he was married to Brooke Shields and after they got divorced he wed tennis overlord Steffie Graff. We all know that he started off as a "rebel" with incredible tennis skill and then went through a slump, and just when the last of his supporters was beginning to think his career had winded down, he transformed into the hardest working gritty tennis player around and made a legendary resurgence. We all know that he had a storied rivalry with fellow U.S. tennis superstar and his seeming opposite Pete Sampras. But, what we did not know could fill a frighteningly large book.
So, he wrote it. People talk about the drugs and the hair and the depression and the lifts and the tennis-hatred, but they are missing the point... the drugs. Okay, so they are not missing the point. But, to be fair, it kind of all makes sense- mostly. Here's a guy who hates tennis, so he defies it. He keeps hating tennis, so he turns to drugs. He hates the attention, but he coddles it by marrying a star. He is incredibly insecure, so he embraces youth conventions. It does not make total sense, but it's not far-fetched either.
Do I believe it? Absolutely. It's pretty self-incriminating and self-deprecating without being funny at all. The better question is why did he tell it and the better question is what reaction did he expect?
Let's start with the better question. Does Agassi need the money? It's possible that years of living like a rock star on an athlete's salary (which was not a salary and was sizeable plus endorsements) for so many years has left him without funds to amply support his growing family. But, Graff made some loot too. Is it possible that his charitable works, in particular his Vegas school project has tapped him dry? Doubtful, but possible. Is it possible that it is an elaborate ploy to make more money, with which he can contribute to his charities? Yes. But, there had to be an easier way.
So, while the money probably contributed to his decision, the fact that he could have made the same amount of money from going around the country giving speeches, it was probably not the prime mover. There are a myriad of possibilities, but in my head, I have narrowed down my search into three main categories: inspiration, catharsis and vanity.
I'd like to rule out inspiration because while he may have inspired drug addicts, he simultaneously may have lost a tremendous amount of fans who are disillusioned by the drug use. He is no longer the story about what you can achieve if you work hard, his is the story about what you can achieve if you don't care. And even though I will discuss that Agassi had drastically underestimated the impact of his revelations, he is not stupid and he must have understood that the narrative would change. He must have understood that not only would his name be associated with tennis legend, Gen X hero, comeback story, celebrity prince, but he would also be crystal meth user. Parents don't tell your kids the tale of Andre Agassi, it's no Grimm's Fairy Tale, cause this is real and scary. So, while the thought of inspiring young drug addicts probably entered his head, he probably did not write this book primarily for them.
I'd like to rule out catharsis too because he basically made his death bed confessions in the prime of his life while he is seemingly happily married and enjoying his family and his place in the world, but I can't do that. I would have to know more about him or at least read the book to figure out how much of what he did was for his own spiritual gratification. They say the truth shall set you free. And while, sometimes that is more than true, sometimes the truth can get you thrown in jail (by the way, I am not taking a position about whether or not there is a criminal culpability here, despite my legal knowledge because I do not know where he committed these actions and while the statute of limitations surely passed, there are potential tolling based on extra-jurisdictional exceptions (i.e. when you are outside of a state, the clock on the statute of limitations may temporarily stop.) And, I'm not going to make this into a political policy decision about whether we should lighten the criminality of drug-use, which can alternately be characterized as a personal weakness, an addiction, a disease, a symptom of a disease, etc.) Moreover, the truth can imprison others. That is why when a person commits a single marital indiscretion, they are often counseled by their spouse's loved ones not to reveal their error. Agassi was cheating on us... with drugs. Maybe he shouldn't have told us. (I take no position on this issue either.) And while the truth shall set you free, ignorance is bliss.
So again, I can't really speak to how cathartic the experience was for the man, not only sharing his intimate flaws with his loved ones, but sharing it with the whole world. So, I will discount the theory not based on my understanding, but based on convenience because it does not serve my purposes.
So, that only leaves one possibility. Vanity. How can it be vain for a person to confess his insecurities about his baldness, his height, his hard-drug use when his image is at its apex and it will obviously diminish from these stories. Vanity. Agassi has a complex relationship with the media and with his celebrity. He often shuns it, but he often nurtures it. Agassi like many celebrities does not want to be hounded about his daily bowel movements, but nor does he want to be irrelevant or a relic. Ad Agassi is famously good at adapting his celebrity from his choice of partners, to his stylistic flair to his extravagant hairstyles and even to his level of effort on the tennis court. And now, Agassi has adapted.
He adapted from his youth to his adulthood with his change of hairstyle. He adapted from his immaturity to his maturity with his change of wife (no disrespect to Shields, but that marriage from my limited understanding seemed like a bit of a PR stunt). And now, he's adapting from old to new celebrity by moving from the 90's maverick to the 00's reality star. People want to see the foibles of their new celebrities and Agassi is willing be the much maligned Jon or Kate to be relevant. He is willing to be Puck to be important. He is willing to be the vilified Richard Hatch and bare it all to be the celebrity Survivor (how about those dated references). So, Agassi, who was about to settle into a relatively quiet life in Nevada made a comeback... yet again.
Well, this brings us to our second question- what did he expect? Sure, Martina Navratilova's reaction that Agassi is like Clemens is not only bizarre, but also inaccurate. Crystal meth is by my understanding, not a performance enhancing drug like steroids or speed or cocaine. Those drugs allow you to train harder, build muscle mass, or in the case of Lawrence Taylor frighten the adversary into the fetal position. From my understanding, a drug like crystal meth is more along the lines of heroin (from watching Breaking Bad,) which gives you the added ability to pass out while pissing yourself. Not so heroic now, are you Andre? But, now instead of heroism or achievement making you a celebrity, becoming a celebrity makes you a hero and the act of becoming a celebrity is the achievement. Agassi gets it. He was a hero back in the day by defying the man and still winning. Then, he became an adult hero by showing up to work every day, working hard and triumphing over the odds and over the younger crowd. Now, he is becoming the newer kind of hero because he is staying famous and he will soil his name however he has to make it so. But, I digress.
Okay, so he could not have expected people to compare him to Clemens (it's also funny that comparing an athlete to one of the greatest pitchers of all time is an insult). And though she tried to make the issue about lying, lying to a sporting body is hardly a high crime. Moreover, most people tell white lies all the time. It is more than likely that closeted athletes are even until this day lying to the general public about their sexual exploits for fear of the truth's unfortunate reprisals. So, Martina, was it because it was an official response, was it because of the nature of the lie or was it because of something I'm missing. An official response theory makes some sense because when caught we want people to fall on their swords. But, that is not what happens. In fact, in probably near half the criminal cases in the country, people begin by pleading not guilty, then if they are placed into a tight corner, they change their plea. That is not what happened here. Here, he pled not guilty, he was exonerated and then he confessed (possibly out of feeling guilty or remorse (unless it was out of gloating, but that does not seem to be the case)). While, it is not as honorable as never having committed the crime and not even as honorable as falling on his sword (which would probably have resulted in a suspension, a slap on the wrist and/or rehab/testing out of concern for Agassi's well being), it is more honorable than getting away with it (and not feeling remorse) or changing your story when you have no choice. However you feel about it, he could have handled it in a worse way, so he's not evil for his lying. As discussed above, the nature of the lie was about a drug that was harmful to himself and not particularly harmful to others (unless you consider the wider effects of drugs in our culture) and did not help him in tennis. So, I must be missing something.
But, what about Federer or Nadal or Safin? Could he have expected that there would be calls that he should give back his money and his titles? Yes. He didn't, but he should have considered a legitimate possibility. These are intensely competitive people in a field where Agassi was glorified for almost everything he did. They are trying to protect the integrity of a sport that is dogged by shocking scandals and a filthy lint-filled, puss-infected underbelly, which most casual fans remain blissfully ignorant of (including throwing games, gambling, mafia involvement to say the least.) Tennis is like the boxing of sports (that did not come out right.) Sure, they are overreacting, but it's not unexpected that some people would overreact.
What is more surprising is Agassi's rebuttal, which Katie Couric's softball questions laid bare. It's unclear whether it was Agassi's expectation or his hope, but Agassi asked for compassion. That's not how compassion works. It's not delivered upon request. If he had fallen on his sword in full remorse, there would have been a large group of people who leant out their hands. Instead, he kept stressing that it was a "recreational drug" like it's a drug you might use while playing tennis. He said, have compassion for me cause I had problems. He wanted sympathy. He wanted the world to feel sorry for him. I understand, Andre, you had a rough childhood, you worked really hard, you hated your job and you were in an unhappy marriage. We all get it. Most people have some if not all of these problems and still most people avoid crystal meth. People make mistakes and other people are more than willing to forgive those mistakes, but don't ask me for compassion. You're akin to the homeless guy that asks you for money and tries to make you feel bad that you didn't give it. It's my compassion and I get to dole it out as I please. I worked hard for this compassion.
But, the truth is, the guy was my brother's idol growing up and while I was a Michael Chang man in tennis (and preferred Pete Sampras,) my brother's adoration had a profound impact on me. I admired his life change ten years ago and I now acknowledge that his change is all the greater in that he also secretly gave up drugs to make his first comeback. And this is hard for me to say because I'm incredibly self-righteous and judgmental, (just ask anyone that knows me,) I also acknowledge that I'm incredibly flawed and make countless mistakes for which I could use forgiveness, so I am in no position to judge. Thus, while I might not give Agassi all the compassion he is looking for, I do give him some spare compassion.
After all, he is the one that brought me and my camera together. And in the last year or so, I have taken something like 3000 pictures, so that I can document my own life and my own faults. And I put my life on facebook and blogs without a thousandth of the candidness that Agassi probably did. But, to be fair, I'm heeding Agassi's immortal advice and I'm crafting my own image. So, thank you Andre Agassi and for what it's worth, I don't think they should strip you of your winnings or your titles, but I do think this has done a substantial amount to strip you of your dignity. And from what I gathered so far, this book is really another unbelievable return.
Don't call it a comeback,
The Papa Bear
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
ME Unlisted
Dear Sir or Madam,
Since the year is about to end and I am reserving my creativity for another time, rather than write entirely new entries, I am editing and reformatting some interesting things that I have never posted on my blog, but clearly belong on my blog (because they have nowhere else to go.)
A few months ago, when prompted by facebook friends' notes, I created a list of 25 things, which I aired exclusively on facebook. The first draft of this list was much more detailed than the final product, which was heavily edited/butchered because the list was meant to be a quick pithy project and not a diatribe. I remember thinking to myself that I should publish the longer list on my blog... but I was not employing my blog at that time, so I air the longer version of the list in its entirety (and below that, find the facebook list of 25 things as it was originally published.) Truthfully, given the depth and sometimes disjointed nature of each "thing," it's actually more like a 100 things about me, which would copy my buddy melanism's personal lists. Instead, I've cleverly disguised, combined and manipulated my list to "narrow it down" to 25 things.
To those of you who read my posted list, this might give you added incite into me, not just into these particular facts, but also how I chose what to remove.
So, first, you will see my way too long version of 25 things about me, then you will see the facebook list.
Take 1: Full Version (for facebook version- see below)
1. I love lists. I make lists out of everything I can, even lists that don't make sense, possibly because lists give me a false sense of organization and control in this chaotic world or probably because I really like counting.
2. My family means the world to me. I know everyone has problems with their family, but I tend to identify more with people who pride themselves on their families rather than their jobs or even their friends.
3. I never stop thinking. I can't shut my brain off, so I have some serious problems sleeping and am almost always tired. But because of the thinking and the time, I am generally prepared or at least not surprised by most outcomes as I've usually considered that particular scenario. Thus, when people think I'm sharp or quick or clever, it's not true, I actually just deduced in advance what you were going to say and was totally prepared for it. In other words, I'm not clever, you're just predictable.
4. I am not as normal as some people think I am, but I'm not half as weird or crazy as other people think. Basically, every one of you is wrong about me; and I'm right. Is that the definition of crazy; or is it the sign of genius? I would say, neither, but I know me better than you know me, which I guess makes me pretty normal.
5. I used to not like talking about myself, which created some problems when I was in therapy during college, but as you can see, now I can go on and on about me and how great I am.
6. I am great. I have doubts about this one, but I've thought about it a lot. I care about people, I make efforts to at least try to do the right thing, to be there when it's important and I almost never lose my temper. When motivated I have a fierce will power (though I'm almost never motivated). I have an above-average intelligence that sparks brightly from time to time. When I care about something, I devote myself entirely to it. Also, I can be awfully funny.
7. I am awful. I flake out on my friends all the time. I'm self-conscious about my appearance and about my impact on the world. I should work harder at all the things I don't care about. I forget names all the time. I have a terrible sense of time and direction. I never know where I was, the name of the place, the location, or when I was there. I'm messy. I can't multitask. I usually know what the best thing to do is, but I often avoid doing it anyway and make things harder on myself.
8. I cry regularly during movies, but just about never in real life. In a related matter, I love movies and TV. I'm not a huge music or art fan, and I rarely like anything live or reality-based.
9. I'm a sports fan, but I'm not a huge sports fan. I tend to root for certain players and I like a couple of teams, but I only occasionally like watching sports. Mainly, I watched sports when I was younger to identify with my father and brother and now, I watch football on Sundays because I get to watch it with my grandfather, so I became a fan artificially, rather than naturally. I don't like college sports or as I call them, little league.
10. I like playing sports. I like competing. I don't care too much about winning, but I hate losing. So, generally, if I win, you'll see me pretty stoic or moving on to the next thing, but if I lose, you'll see me sulking for awhile.
11. I ran track in high school. I was pretty fast and would win all the races in my gym classes, but on the track team, the coach (who was fired shortly after I left) made me run distance because of his penchant for seniority (and I'm short). Since I was never good at running long distances, I disliked it and dropped it relatively quickly. I'm still quicker than I look, but I am older and weigh a lot more than I did then, so... not so fast. For some reason, I'm still quite strong even though I don't go to the gym, but I guess it's genetic as both my parents are extremely athletic.
12. For work, I wear suits and ties, but outside of work, I used to subconsciously dress like Superman (blue and red shirts), but now I consciously dress like Superman.
13. I'm scared of everything: loud noises... things coming at me quickly... being rejected... being accepted... change... things staying the same... so, really, this should have gone in the section about how great I am, in that I overcome all of these things and I'm still somewhat functional.
14. I am awkward. If I have a superpower, this is it. Physically, I am sometimes awkward, my sentence structures are awkward and overly verbose, but most importantly, if I try, (and sometimes even without trying,) I can make just about anyone feel awkward without doing much at all. Seriously, I'm capable of projecting awkwardness. I have come to think about it as a plus, even though most people don't see it that way.
15. Socializing is work for me... sometimes dreadful tedious work. Sometimes, I have fun, but I almost never look forward to it. After seeing Yes Man, a movie that made my form of existence seem rather pathetic, I have been making more of an effort to be socially active. Effort helps.
16. I used to fight a lot when I was little (and generally I'd win, in fact I don't remember ever losing, but that's probably repression because I hate losing). When I was 14, I went through a pacifist phase (which was after my mafia phase) and didn't see the point of fighting. I fought only once since then, if you could call it a fight; in college, I was drunk and some other drunk guy was hassling a summer housemate; he threw a punch, then I threw one and decked him. After 5 seconds, I helped him up, and the three of us went to a party and got some beers. {I'm not counting the couple of times here and there, where I was involved in some good natured competitive wrestling or great natured, hall brawls.}
17. Aside from the therapy, I think what helped me open up most was starting a blog. Even though nobody reads it, it's cathartic to know something I created is out there, open to anyone who is willing to look for it. It was even a good fun blog at first, before I got bogged down in Lost.
18. I can rarely tell when I'm joking, when I'm being serious or when I'm flat out lying. Though, I rarely lie about anything, I joke about things all the time. I tend to think random is funny and self-depricating is funny. I'm pretty self-indulgent and self-centered and self-righteous, so it works out for me.
19. I love politics. I like lecturing about it, I like arguing about it, I like listening to it and I like thinking about it. If I wasn't afraid of losing, I might run for office. Though, members of my party don't generally win NYC elections. {I'm a Republican, not the bible thumping kind, but the tax-lowering, war-mongering kind.} But, I genuinely believe that just about everyone has valid thoughtful reasons for believing what they believe and, so I like active, live healthy discussions, and detest smear tactics.
20. I take everything personally. It might be too sensitive of me, but I have developed a pretty thick skin about it, so now, whether someone specifically is trying to be mean to me, which rarely happens, or whether someone is "unintentionally" mean or neglectful of me, I take it as an insult, but try to find some rationalization or justification for why I would deserve it, and then I try to brush it off either way.
21. I'm a huge fan of kids and I have no idea if I'd be half as good of a parent as mine are, but I think I'd be an excellent grandfather.
22. 22 is my favorite number. Some other favorites include- ice cream: vanilla, color: black, meal: Hunan Park's Kung Pao Chicken, movie: American Beauty, book (play): Romeo and Juliet, sport: football (though I follow basketball), dance: the Robot, song: varies depending on mood, but huge fan of "Man in the Mirror", painter: Chagall, TV show: current is Lost, all time it would be Seinfeld, Lost or Arrested Development; favorite country: USA, favorite city: NYC. I hate a few things like the Nazis, the beach and dental floss, but I have a special and unique hatred in my heart for vinegar.
23. I go through phases: most notably, at the end of college, I spent over a year sober just to prove to myself that I could (actually just about 18 months). In middle school, I ran a fake mafia (that earned me a lot of money by selling overpriced contraband, things my strict school would not allow like candy, soda, etc., complete with buyers, sellers, collection thugs, loans and even mechanisms for laundering the money through a shelter tutoring business), I've also spent weeks in high school where I emulated The Professional tending to a plant (that part lasted only a week) and drinking glasses of milk... a year when I ate pizza every single school day, a month as a vegetarian, a month without caffeine (that was hard) a month without IM, 5 years without medication of any kind, 5 days without sleep in college, 7 days without food in college. Other noteworthy things about me along the same vein: I have never taken any form of illegal drugs or even smoked a cigarette. I've smoked less than 10 cigars, but I don't care for them, and I've thought about having a pipe, but mainly for show.
24. I spend way more time thinking about good and evil and God and religion, philosophy and science, our place in the universe and my place in the world, then, I would care to admit, but I'm willing to admit it as generally as this.
25. I have great difficulty finishing things... like the novel, I started writing in law school, got halfway through and then bailed on (maybe it's because I've never owned a car... until this year, at the age of 29, when I kindof got my brother's hand-me-down car, then I temporarily owned a car.) But, I finished this list.
Take 2: Below are my facebook answers for anyone who cares to see the butchered/edited version of the above 25.
1. I like lists.
2. I'm a family-oriented person.
3. I think about stuff all the time, at the expense of sleep.
4. I'm in between normal and weird.
5. I used to feel uncomfortable talking about myself.
6. I have positive qualities like the fact that I just about never lose my temper.
7. I have negative qualities like I can't multitask.
8. I cry in movies.
9. I like sports, but not that much.
10. I like competing, hate losing, but don't care about winning (tying is losing).
11. I ran track in high school, but if we held try-outs today, I wouldn't make the team.
12. I knowingly dress in Superman colors.
13. I'm scared of lots of mundane things.
14. My superpower is awkwardness. I can project it onto others.
15. I much prefer staying in to going out. Going out is hard work for me.
16. I used to fight a lot when I was a kid.
17. My blog helped me.
18. I'm an entertainer of the bored, if they have time.
19. I care about politics.
20. I take everything personally.
21. I might make an excellent grandfather.
22. is my favorite number. I have a few other favorites things. I hate vinegar.
23. I test myself from time to time.
24. I think about big issues much more than I talk about them.
25. I have trouble finishing things, including a half of a novel I wrote in law school.
STET(ish)
I edited them both a tiny bit to make them up to date, but kept most of the mistakes as they were.
Thank you for reading, your welcome for caring,
Papa Bear (ME)
Since the year is about to end and I am reserving my creativity for another time, rather than write entirely new entries, I am editing and reformatting some interesting things that I have never posted on my blog, but clearly belong on my blog (because they have nowhere else to go.)
A few months ago, when prompted by facebook friends' notes, I created a list of 25 things, which I aired exclusively on facebook. The first draft of this list was much more detailed than the final product, which was heavily edited/butchered because the list was meant to be a quick pithy project and not a diatribe. I remember thinking to myself that I should publish the longer list on my blog... but I was not employing my blog at that time, so I air the longer version of the list in its entirety (and below that, find the facebook list of 25 things as it was originally published.) Truthfully, given the depth and sometimes disjointed nature of each "thing," it's actually more like a 100 things about me, which would copy my buddy melanism's personal lists. Instead, I've cleverly disguised, combined and manipulated my list to "narrow it down" to 25 things.
To those of you who read my posted list, this might give you added incite into me, not just into these particular facts, but also how I chose what to remove.
So, first, you will see my way too long version of 25 things about me, then you will see the facebook list.
Take 1: Full Version (for facebook version- see below)
1. I love lists. I make lists out of everything I can, even lists that don't make sense, possibly because lists give me a false sense of organization and control in this chaotic world or probably because I really like counting.
2. My family means the world to me. I know everyone has problems with their family, but I tend to identify more with people who pride themselves on their families rather than their jobs or even their friends.
3. I never stop thinking. I can't shut my brain off, so I have some serious problems sleeping and am almost always tired. But because of the thinking and the time, I am generally prepared or at least not surprised by most outcomes as I've usually considered that particular scenario. Thus, when people think I'm sharp or quick or clever, it's not true, I actually just deduced in advance what you were going to say and was totally prepared for it. In other words, I'm not clever, you're just predictable.
4. I am not as normal as some people think I am, but I'm not half as weird or crazy as other people think. Basically, every one of you is wrong about me; and I'm right. Is that the definition of crazy; or is it the sign of genius? I would say, neither, but I know me better than you know me, which I guess makes me pretty normal.
5. I used to not like talking about myself, which created some problems when I was in therapy during college, but as you can see, now I can go on and on about me and how great I am.
6. I am great. I have doubts about this one, but I've thought about it a lot. I care about people, I make efforts to at least try to do the right thing, to be there when it's important and I almost never lose my temper. When motivated I have a fierce will power (though I'm almost never motivated). I have an above-average intelligence that sparks brightly from time to time. When I care about something, I devote myself entirely to it. Also, I can be awfully funny.
7. I am awful. I flake out on my friends all the time. I'm self-conscious about my appearance and about my impact on the world. I should work harder at all the things I don't care about. I forget names all the time. I have a terrible sense of time and direction. I never know where I was, the name of the place, the location, or when I was there. I'm messy. I can't multitask. I usually know what the best thing to do is, but I often avoid doing it anyway and make things harder on myself.
8. I cry regularly during movies, but just about never in real life. In a related matter, I love movies and TV. I'm not a huge music or art fan, and I rarely like anything live or reality-based.
9. I'm a sports fan, but I'm not a huge sports fan. I tend to root for certain players and I like a couple of teams, but I only occasionally like watching sports. Mainly, I watched sports when I was younger to identify with my father and brother and now, I watch football on Sundays because I get to watch it with my grandfather, so I became a fan artificially, rather than naturally. I don't like college sports or as I call them, little league.
10. I like playing sports. I like competing. I don't care too much about winning, but I hate losing. So, generally, if I win, you'll see me pretty stoic or moving on to the next thing, but if I lose, you'll see me sulking for awhile.
11. I ran track in high school. I was pretty fast and would win all the races in my gym classes, but on the track team, the coach (who was fired shortly after I left) made me run distance because of his penchant for seniority (and I'm short). Since I was never good at running long distances, I disliked it and dropped it relatively quickly. I'm still quicker than I look, but I am older and weigh a lot more than I did then, so... not so fast. For some reason, I'm still quite strong even though I don't go to the gym, but I guess it's genetic as both my parents are extremely athletic.
12. For work, I wear suits and ties, but outside of work, I used to subconsciously dress like Superman (blue and red shirts), but now I consciously dress like Superman.
13. I'm scared of everything: loud noises... things coming at me quickly... being rejected... being accepted... change... things staying the same... so, really, this should have gone in the section about how great I am, in that I overcome all of these things and I'm still somewhat functional.
14. I am awkward. If I have a superpower, this is it. Physically, I am sometimes awkward, my sentence structures are awkward and overly verbose, but most importantly, if I try, (and sometimes even without trying,) I can make just about anyone feel awkward without doing much at all. Seriously, I'm capable of projecting awkwardness. I have come to think about it as a plus, even though most people don't see it that way.
15. Socializing is work for me... sometimes dreadful tedious work. Sometimes, I have fun, but I almost never look forward to it. After seeing Yes Man, a movie that made my form of existence seem rather pathetic, I have been making more of an effort to be socially active. Effort helps.
16. I used to fight a lot when I was little (and generally I'd win, in fact I don't remember ever losing, but that's probably repression because I hate losing). When I was 14, I went through a pacifist phase (which was after my mafia phase) and didn't see the point of fighting. I fought only once since then, if you could call it a fight; in college, I was drunk and some other drunk guy was hassling a summer housemate; he threw a punch, then I threw one and decked him. After 5 seconds, I helped him up, and the three of us went to a party and got some beers. {I'm not counting the couple of times here and there, where I was involved in some good natured competitive wrestling or great natured, hall brawls.}
17. Aside from the therapy, I think what helped me open up most was starting a blog. Even though nobody reads it, it's cathartic to know something I created is out there, open to anyone who is willing to look for it. It was even a good fun blog at first, before I got bogged down in Lost.
18. I can rarely tell when I'm joking, when I'm being serious or when I'm flat out lying. Though, I rarely lie about anything, I joke about things all the time. I tend to think random is funny and self-depricating is funny. I'm pretty self-indulgent and self-centered and self-righteous, so it works out for me.
19. I love politics. I like lecturing about it, I like arguing about it, I like listening to it and I like thinking about it. If I wasn't afraid of losing, I might run for office. Though, members of my party don't generally win NYC elections. {I'm a Republican, not the bible thumping kind, but the tax-lowering, war-mongering kind.} But, I genuinely believe that just about everyone has valid thoughtful reasons for believing what they believe and, so I like active, live healthy discussions, and detest smear tactics.
20. I take everything personally. It might be too sensitive of me, but I have developed a pretty thick skin about it, so now, whether someone specifically is trying to be mean to me, which rarely happens, or whether someone is "unintentionally" mean or neglectful of me, I take it as an insult, but try to find some rationalization or justification for why I would deserve it, and then I try to brush it off either way.
21. I'm a huge fan of kids and I have no idea if I'd be half as good of a parent as mine are, but I think I'd be an excellent grandfather.
22. 22 is my favorite number. Some other favorites include- ice cream: vanilla, color: black, meal: Hunan Park's Kung Pao Chicken, movie: American Beauty, book (play): Romeo and Juliet, sport: football (though I follow basketball), dance: the Robot, song: varies depending on mood, but huge fan of "Man in the Mirror", painter: Chagall, TV show: current is Lost, all time it would be Seinfeld, Lost or Arrested Development; favorite country: USA, favorite city: NYC. I hate a few things like the Nazis, the beach and dental floss, but I have a special and unique hatred in my heart for vinegar.
23. I go through phases: most notably, at the end of college, I spent over a year sober just to prove to myself that I could (actually just about 18 months). In middle school, I ran a fake mafia (that earned me a lot of money by selling overpriced contraband, things my strict school would not allow like candy, soda, etc., complete with buyers, sellers, collection thugs, loans and even mechanisms for laundering the money through a shelter tutoring business), I've also spent weeks in high school where I emulated The Professional tending to a plant (that part lasted only a week) and drinking glasses of milk... a year when I ate pizza every single school day, a month as a vegetarian, a month without caffeine (that was hard) a month without IM, 5 years without medication of any kind, 5 days without sleep in college, 7 days without food in college. Other noteworthy things about me along the same vein: I have never taken any form of illegal drugs or even smoked a cigarette. I've smoked less than 10 cigars, but I don't care for them, and I've thought about having a pipe, but mainly for show.
24. I spend way more time thinking about good and evil and God and religion, philosophy and science, our place in the universe and my place in the world, then, I would care to admit, but I'm willing to admit it as generally as this.
25. I have great difficulty finishing things... like the novel, I started writing in law school, got halfway through and then bailed on (maybe it's because I've never owned a car... until this year, at the age of 29, when I kindof got my brother's hand-me-down car, then I temporarily owned a car.) But, I finished this list.
Take 2: Below are my facebook answers for anyone who cares to see the butchered/edited version of the above 25.
1. I like lists.
2. I'm a family-oriented person.
3. I think about stuff all the time, at the expense of sleep.
4. I'm in between normal and weird.
5. I used to feel uncomfortable talking about myself.
6. I have positive qualities like the fact that I just about never lose my temper.
7. I have negative qualities like I can't multitask.
8. I cry in movies.
9. I like sports, but not that much.
10. I like competing, hate losing, but don't care about winning (tying is losing).
11. I ran track in high school, but if we held try-outs today, I wouldn't make the team.
12. I knowingly dress in Superman colors.
13. I'm scared of lots of mundane things.
14. My superpower is awkwardness. I can project it onto others.
15. I much prefer staying in to going out. Going out is hard work for me.
16. I used to fight a lot when I was a kid.
17. My blog helped me.
18. I'm an entertainer of the bored, if they have time.
19. I care about politics.
20. I take everything personally.
21. I might make an excellent grandfather.
22. is my favorite number. I have a few other favorites things. I hate vinegar.
23. I test myself from time to time.
24. I think about big issues much more than I talk about them.
25. I have trouble finishing things, including a half of a novel I wrote in law school.
STET(ish)
I edited them both a tiny bit to make them up to date, but kept most of the mistakes as they were.
Thank you for reading, your welcome for caring,
Papa Bear (ME)
Friday, July 10, 2009
Blog Two
BEHOLD!
I present you with the same old blog. Yet, I feel the need to relaunch the site and revive it with a familiar attitude, but mostly new-sounding invigorating old-school words like "behold" and the alternate title to this entry, "Blog Two: The Revenge". Why? Because after a year without blogging, I missed you. You who? You, the invisible masses that read my blog? I don't kid myself... consciously. Well, I'm not delusional, thinking that there are hoards of people out there reading this masterfully-crafted trash. I guess I just miss the opportunity to talk to myself. (See, I told you, I'm not delusional.) So, really, I missed myself, and you are irrelevant to this particular equation. But, think about it. Who could blame me? In my unbiased opinion, I'm somewhat more awesome than you are. And, if you're not convinced, you are reading my work, so you are in my world with my rules and you ought to trust me.
So, you might be new here, but I, on the other hand, am one year older. I am one year older than when you last left me, and a lot has happened to me in the past year, which you can discover in my upcoming blog entry to be entitled Yes Man. But, before I delve into my yearly activities, I wanted to post one blog entry to remind you ("me") of why you ("I") loved me (still "me" this time) and why you should continue to love me. I wanted to earn your trust again. I wanted to be great again. In short, you ("I") make me (“me”) want to be a better man. (One more and then I'll stop: You ("I") complete me.)
So, yes, I'm still snarky and smarmy. Yes, I still like word play and making up words. Yes, I still crack stupid (dry-witted) jokes at the invisible, often non-existent reader's expense, which are actually usually intended as loosely veiled backhanded self-compliments/insults (“self-negs”). Yes, I will still throw in some serious content, so I feel socially significant. I will also continue my pop-culture references, usually regarding a movie, a sporting event or a TV episode I've seen recently (and it's always safe to assume that I've seen an episode of "Lost" recently.) Yes, I'll still lavish false praise on myself. Yes, I'll still hyperbolically denigrate myself. Yes, I still won't mean either my self-aggrandizement or my self-deprecation. But, I'm still a law-man at the same firm, plugging away to the best of my ability. Yes, I'm still a hairy balding Jewish NYer that has a great deal of fatty-muscle. Yes, I still prize my family above all else. Yes, I still live in the same hallway-shaped, hallway-sized one-bedroom apartment that reminds me of something hallway-sh... probably a hallway. I'm still a hapless, clueless romantic single. Still dreadfully addicted to diet coke. Still secretly laugh at all my own jokes. Still openly willing to laugh at yours, should you ever say anything funny. Still spend sleepless nights pining over sleepful ones. And yes, I too still have got love for the streets.
So, what's new with the blog? Well, this time, it will have a lot of the same stuff, my thoughts, feelings, analyses, jokes, musings, concerns in the forms of reviews, stories, anecdotes, antidotes, tales, legends, notes, stream-of-consciousness non-sense, but this time... it might actually have have fake interviews with real celebrities or real or fake answers to your real or fake problems and emails. But in essence, it is the mental projection of my digital self, so it will only go as far as I can take it. But, in this blog, I am five inches taller than I am in real life, just like an actor or a basketball player, and I can work miracles with those five inches.
So, what can I add to this new blog? Well, aside from being one year wiser and three years more devilishly handsome, I'm also one year more experienced in the ways of the world, so I can nurture and provide for the blog, in ways that the younger me would not even fathom. What an idiot that guy was.
That guy predicted the wrong outcome in the Oscars (best actor), TV shows (ending of the Lost season), sports titles (bball championships), gave you bad life advice (go swimming on a full stomach), he left you hanging(he asked you to wait on-line and he never came back) and was just generally a misguided individual. As your unofficial blog of 2009, I can promise you, nay, I can guarantee you that I will henceforth get all of my predictions precisely accurate and... my devoted viewer, I will never lie to you again. And most importantly, I will never leave you again... until later today. And even if nothing I say is true or accurate or real or relevant or meaningful, know this, have faith in this one truth... I am here now.
So, with these few words, I beg you to take me back. Accept me for who I am, a filthy liar without any hope of reform, a foolishly horrible prognosticator of this predictable world, a shameless proselytizer of my own demented agenda and a human man with no discernible flaws. Sometimes my verbal grace seems heavenly or even ethereal, my knowledge base feels robotically and relentlessly mechanical, my writing style sounds primal and animalistically natural, my syntax looks otherworldly in its originality... but yes, I'm just a flawed man-boy, sent here with a higher calling... to please you... lingually.
In the one-year-interim, I wrote some political pieces about Obama-McCain that will never be relevant again (or ever seen at all) until I magically recycle it into something valuable. I almost started blogging again about Lost when I thought of an interesting religion/philosophy angle I should have exploited. I wanted to write an entry about Michael Jackson and how "Man in the Mirror" deeply affected my life when I finally paid attention to the lyrics for the first time (three years ago), but I'm opting against it. Ultimately, I've been busier socially, then I was last year and since I won't blog at work, and I still have my home routines, I am somewhat reluctant to get back into blogging on any steady basis. But, I am here now.
Essentially, when I'm here and writing, be here. Because I can make my words dance and make your mind sing my thoughts. And the least you can do for me, is give the site one hit... per hour... everyday... for the rest of your preter-naturally long life. I will try to update this blog from time to time, but if I don’t, baby, it’s not because I don’t care about you. It’s just because I care about something else more. Wait… that didn’t come out right. All I really mean is: I'm reaching through the wireless connections of the Internet and firmly grabbing a hold of a few moments of your time, but my meaningful/less and notably harmless rants are mere attempts to entertain myself and by extension, the person I care about most… you.
Yours always,
Mark "Papa Bear" Ellis
P.S. I encourage comments because I am self-indulgent and self-centered, but selflessly so.
P.P.S. If you would like to get a taste of my delicious blog, I recommend you start with "First Blog" (which is chronologically first from roughly October 2007ish) and follow it up by choosing a topic that interests you. Sometimes the post will be intended to be whimsical like this one, while other times, it may be satirical or emotionally evocative or intellectually provocative, but you'll get the idea and you'll judge it accordingly.
And may G-d bless all of you jerks.
I present you with the same old blog. Yet, I feel the need to relaunch the site and revive it with a familiar attitude, but mostly new-sounding invigorating old-school words like "behold" and the alternate title to this entry, "Blog Two: The Revenge". Why? Because after a year without blogging, I missed you. You who? You, the invisible masses that read my blog? I don't kid myself... consciously. Well, I'm not delusional, thinking that there are hoards of people out there reading this masterfully-crafted trash. I guess I just miss the opportunity to talk to myself. (See, I told you, I'm not delusional.) So, really, I missed myself, and you are irrelevant to this particular equation. But, think about it. Who could blame me? In my unbiased opinion, I'm somewhat more awesome than you are. And, if you're not convinced, you are reading my work, so you are in my world with my rules and you ought to trust me.
So, you might be new here, but I, on the other hand, am one year older. I am one year older than when you last left me, and a lot has happened to me in the past year, which you can discover in my upcoming blog entry to be entitled Yes Man. But, before I delve into my yearly activities, I wanted to post one blog entry to remind you ("me") of why you ("I") loved me (still "me" this time) and why you should continue to love me. I wanted to earn your trust again. I wanted to be great again. In short, you ("I") make me (“me”) want to be a better man. (One more and then I'll stop: You ("I") complete me.)
So, yes, I'm still snarky and smarmy. Yes, I still like word play and making up words. Yes, I still crack stupid (dry-witted) jokes at the invisible, often non-existent reader's expense, which are actually usually intended as loosely veiled backhanded self-compliments/insults (“self-negs”). Yes, I will still throw in some serious content, so I feel socially significant. I will also continue my pop-culture references, usually regarding a movie, a sporting event or a TV episode I've seen recently (and it's always safe to assume that I've seen an episode of "Lost" recently.) Yes, I'll still lavish false praise on myself. Yes, I'll still hyperbolically denigrate myself. Yes, I still won't mean either my self-aggrandizement or my self-deprecation. But, I'm still a law-man at the same firm, plugging away to the best of my ability. Yes, I'm still a hairy balding Jewish NYer that has a great deal of fatty-muscle. Yes, I still prize my family above all else. Yes, I still live in the same hallway-shaped, hallway-sized one-bedroom apartment that reminds me of something hallway-sh... probably a hallway. I'm still a hapless, clueless romantic single. Still dreadfully addicted to diet coke. Still secretly laugh at all my own jokes. Still openly willing to laugh at yours, should you ever say anything funny. Still spend sleepless nights pining over sleepful ones. And yes, I too still have got love for the streets.
So, what's new with the blog? Well, this time, it will have a lot of the same stuff, my thoughts, feelings, analyses, jokes, musings, concerns in the forms of reviews, stories, anecdotes, antidotes, tales, legends, notes, stream-of-consciousness non-sense, but this time... it might actually have have fake interviews with real celebrities or real or fake answers to your real or fake problems and emails. But in essence, it is the mental projection of my digital self, so it will only go as far as I can take it. But, in this blog, I am five inches taller than I am in real life, just like an actor or a basketball player, and I can work miracles with those five inches.
So, what can I add to this new blog? Well, aside from being one year wiser and three years more devilishly handsome, I'm also one year more experienced in the ways of the world, so I can nurture and provide for the blog, in ways that the younger me would not even fathom. What an idiot that guy was.
That guy predicted the wrong outcome in the Oscars (best actor), TV shows (ending of the Lost season), sports titles (bball championships), gave you bad life advice (go swimming on a full stomach), he left you hanging(he asked you to wait on-line and he never came back) and was just generally a misguided individual. As your unofficial blog of 2009, I can promise you, nay, I can guarantee you that I will henceforth get all of my predictions precisely accurate and... my devoted viewer, I will never lie to you again. And most importantly, I will never leave you again... until later today. And even if nothing I say is true or accurate or real or relevant or meaningful, know this, have faith in this one truth... I am here now.
So, with these few words, I beg you to take me back. Accept me for who I am, a filthy liar without any hope of reform, a foolishly horrible prognosticator of this predictable world, a shameless proselytizer of my own demented agenda and a human man with no discernible flaws. Sometimes my verbal grace seems heavenly or even ethereal, my knowledge base feels robotically and relentlessly mechanical, my writing style sounds primal and animalistically natural, my syntax looks otherworldly in its originality... but yes, I'm just a flawed man-boy, sent here with a higher calling... to please you... lingually.
In the one-year-interim, I wrote some political pieces about Obama-McCain that will never be relevant again (or ever seen at all) until I magically recycle it into something valuable. I almost started blogging again about Lost when I thought of an interesting religion/philosophy angle I should have exploited. I wanted to write an entry about Michael Jackson and how "Man in the Mirror" deeply affected my life when I finally paid attention to the lyrics for the first time (three years ago), but I'm opting against it. Ultimately, I've been busier socially, then I was last year and since I won't blog at work, and I still have my home routines, I am somewhat reluctant to get back into blogging on any steady basis. But, I am here now.
Essentially, when I'm here and writing, be here. Because I can make my words dance and make your mind sing my thoughts. And the least you can do for me, is give the site one hit... per hour... everyday... for the rest of your preter-naturally long life. I will try to update this blog from time to time, but if I don’t, baby, it’s not because I don’t care about you. It’s just because I care about something else more. Wait… that didn’t come out right. All I really mean is: I'm reaching through the wireless connections of the Internet and firmly grabbing a hold of a few moments of your time, but my meaningful/less and notably harmless rants are mere attempts to entertain myself and by extension, the person I care about most… you.
Yours always,
Mark "Papa Bear" Ellis
P.S. I encourage comments because I am self-indulgent and self-centered, but selflessly so.
P.P.S. If you would like to get a taste of my delicious blog, I recommend you start with "First Blog" (which is chronologically first from roughly October 2007ish) and follow it up by choosing a topic that interests you. Sometimes the post will be intended to be whimsical like this one, while other times, it may be satirical or emotionally evocative or intellectually provocative, but you'll get the idea and you'll judge it accordingly.
And may G-d bless all of you jerks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)