Month: June 2013

No. Comment. Please.

I am a comedian, along with a dad, husband, project manager, Condo Owner’s Board member, and dumbass.  Comedians minds don’t work like everybody else’s.  We struggle with the mundane, and we often have a hyper-observant nature, seeing sheer lunacy in something quite small, blowing it into zeppelin-like proportions, when really it’s no more than a child’s floating soap-bubble.  All the same, leaving a shopping cart in an empty parking spot should be grounds for having one’s photo posted on a website.  Oh hey… maybe I’ll start doing that…

Comedians also generalize.  Broadly-sweeping statements leave us open for retort, and stating anything on the internet increases the inroads of replies by a million-fold.  What humors me is the fact that many people have yet to grasp two key elements of web-published statements:

  1. Now that we have a chance to say something, very few people actually have something to say, but very rarely will that stop them from saying something anyway.
  2. When posting something in a medium that allows comments, one should expect at least SOME comments, but shouldn’t hinge one’s worth on the tone of the comment.

We’ve seen the Facebook posts of people saying they are going to lunch, YUMM!, or pictures of food-piles on plates, or statements that make us think “So you logged in to this site and out of your life to make THAT statement about some guy in a truck not knowing how to drive, yet didn’t post a picture of your abs?  What’s the point?”  So yeah, what’s the point? 

The best comedians use an economy of language that not only describes exactly what they want to convey about their subject matter, but they also don’t generalize.  To go so broadly as to say “Nobody does THIS” or “Everybody loves THAT” and NOT have an absurdity to make the statement a joke is to invite disagreement.  Example:

BAD:  Don’t you hate when you are taking a picture with your phone, and you drop your phone in the toilet land then you gotta let it dry?  [OK, I see where it’s going, but then there’s nothing after the “phone in the toilet.”  What’s the point

GOOD:  Don’t you hate when you are taking a picture with your phone, and you drop your phone in the toilet, and then you gotta ask the guy in that stall to hand it back over and he’s a jerk about it?  Broad, narrow, specific.

So, folks, if you’re gonna say something, say Something.  Two of my favorite comedians, Marc Maron and Jake Johannsen, have two phenomenal lines that sum up our online lives.

Marc Maron (about MySpace, and it still rings true):  Someday the aliens will come down here after we’re gone, and they’ll pull our old hard drives out of swamps and hook ’em up and say “Wow, they really thought they were important, didn’t they?”

Jake Johannsen (about people posting pics of their meals): Why are you showing that to people? If you think that’s normal, just hold your plate up to the table next to you and tell them “HEY! Hi! This is my food!  I’m gonna eat this!”  See how fast you’re asked to leave.

Oh, and Teens, please keep posting every video and picture of every debaucherous thing you do.  YOLO, but you will get fired many, many times. 

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Donut Do Not

I drive by a TopPot every day on the way to work.  Have never once gone in there.  The half-donut I had after a recent trip was more of a stress munch, and was the only donut I’ve had for a long time (6+ weeks). And I can smell the fried dough every day I drive by, but I never ever stop. 
But today I decided I’m just gonna go get one and get it over with and just ENJOY A TREAT.  Worked hard this week in the gym, did a 40min MRT blowout this morning, feeling good.  Donut ready.
Nothing fancy, just a maple old-fashioned or something like that.
As I park way behind in the garage and have to walk a long way to the door I see a sign that says
JUNE 7, NATIONAL DONUT DAY, FREE DONUTS, ORDER A DOZEN!!!
 
I’m thinking “Holy crap, it’s meant to be!  I finally give in a little and it’s free donut day!  Just ONE donut and I’ve been repaid for my patience!“
So I head on in, and I don’t see a large case like usual, but no bigs, I see some folks huddled around the case, and there’s a group from Northwest Harvest off to the side, taking donations.  Good call, because if folks aren’t paying for donuts, they have money to drop in those buckets!
 
So then I pull my wallet out, gonna get a coffee, too, great coffee at the Top Pot, I’m like 3rd person in line, and I peek around the gal ahead of me to see the case full of….
empty platters.  6 empty platters.  Some without crumbs.  Just bare and exhausted.
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Oh, wait, no… there were 2 platters holding the following items. 
2 plain cake donuts, 3 plain cinnamon cake donuts, 2 chocolate bars (1 of which the icing has slid halfway off), 1.5 pieces of walnut bread and a blueberry muffin. 
This is God’s donut prank on me.  Well played.
So I balk and turn to leave, still have my wallet out.  Northwest Harvest Greenbean Patrol stops me with the “HAVE YOU HEARD OF NORTHWEST HARVEST” and I have because I used to drop in and volunteer in college, and I drop a dollar and some change in a bucket while the lady says “You can give $10 and provide this much food…” pointing to a sign.  Her partner there is STARING AT THE MONEY IN THE CLIP OF MY WALLET and gives me a look like “Ummm… what’s that?”  And I leave, having just wasted time.  No donut, just accusatory stares.
 
So I go to the store because now it’s about getting a donut in my hole based solely on the notion that I will not be denied.  Some guy is standing in front of the donut case and cannot figure out how to get the box together for the dozen-ish he’s gonna bring to his co-workers, I presume.  I say “pardon me” and he doesn’t even move, then a little louder with, “Excuse me,” and again, nothing, so I just open a door while he’s standing there and say “again, pardon me, sir”  very nicely and he barely moves.  I grab a chocolate old fashioned, toss it in the bag, and barely have the door open so that I can let it close while he’s trying to reach in it.  I’m not his donut doorman, that guy and his coworkers can kiss my fritter.  I’m pretty much done with people at this point of the morning. 
 
Get to work, settle in with some coffee, and take a bite of the donut. 
Old.  Stale.  No flavor.  Just old and gross.  At least a day old. 
Threw it away after 2 bites. 
Before this weekend is out, I will have a donut in my hole.
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Camp Counseling

The older my sons get, the more we’re going to expose them to activities I didn’t take part in as a kid.  Outdoorsy ones, I mean.  We didn’t camp.  We didn’t travel much.  Most of my travel and overnighters were to friend’s houses or as part of a youthgroup church, which may answer a lot of your questions about how I got this way.  A recent camping trip stirred up a lot of issues for me, which as it turns out, have zip-point-squat to do with Camping.  (And this is of course tacit agreement with the “1st World Problems” silo of complaints.)

First off, there’s very little “vacation” when the whole family is involved, at least with 2 active kids under the age of 4.  It’s about the KIDS.  The campsite had a great environment for kids to get on a couple wheels (bikes, not hamster) and work out some exuberance while parents pondered SPF, sobriety, and power-drinking.  Kids need supervision, so I was on wheel patrol in a pair of Chucks.  Good exercise, pretty much everybody was cool to chat with in the site.  Assholes are everywhere, campsites, The Luxor, youth group overnighters, etc. Overall, great people.  Ran into the guy who coached me in the throws in college track, and camped next to an older couple who had 2 cats with them, one of which was just fine walking around on a leash.  At least twice during the trip I was asked if I was having a good time.  Well, having a good time is relative…Image

Burn a 3-day weekend with 8 hours of road time, close-quarters, bad sleeping conditions for an indoor set-up, wildly varying moods among co-campers, and making any acknowledgement of it equates to being a sopping wet blanket with a major crick in my neck and shoulder.  My wallet and my home improvement to-do’s will stay home next time, y’all go bananas.  I’m a leashed cat myself sometimes.

So while other folks may be on vacation, I’m on a trip.  I defer any preconceived notion of relaxation and I’m instead on a mission to have my kids exercise, overcome fears, and get them into their pajamas alive.  Controlled Risk Activities.  Growth.  Intestinal Fortitude.  Non-lasting head trauma. Zero-scar tumbles.  THOSE are what’s most important about this trip.  This wouldn’t happen on a National Holiday weekend in between mattress sales and franchise restaurants.  And in order to make sure kids don’t catch on fire or get hurt or catch other kids on fire you gotta watch ’em.  And not every parent watches their kids.  You hope all the kids get along well, that no kids are violent bullies or are allergic to wind, whatever notion of “relaxation” you had for the trip has to be left at home.  There are wildly different conditions to contend with, and not every adult is going to be involved at the same emotional level.  I saw 8 year-olds being followed by grandparents, and 3 year-olds blazing around like “no big deal.”

It just struck me that there’s probably not a lot of background checking going on with the tenants of these places, some of whom root-down for a few months.  Could be a lotta freaks there, sex offenders, undocumented Slovaks.  Jeez, a few level-2’s here and there, unnoticed, and yet I’m still the asshole for not joyously diving into the camping experience as if Life begins and ends around a gas hibachi.

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OH SWEET, POOL’S OPEN!

ImageSo yeah, there was stress in all of this, so there was very little relaxation to it.  I go into everything that takes more than 2 days with a bit of chagrin and hope for good snacks.  I try to focus on the benefits, like the kids getting out and having fun, some experiences to influence my stand-up, and trying to become a better Dad and Man (I just got a cordless drill last Christmas, so…).

So here’s what I learned from all the travel and prep and experience:

  1. If it’s not about you, don’t make it about you.
  2. If it’s about somebody who is having fun, don’t ruin their good time by outwardly not having fun.
  3. Make the best of it, and realize that you’re having more fun than you’d have if you were at home staring at the TV.
  4. If your significant other takes time to prepare, pack, and plan your part in all of this you better damn-well appreciate it, openly and frequently.
  5. If it’s actually about somebody’s attempt to make you have fun on their terms (“Hey, we got you guys a free vacation weekend with a zip-line, ropes course, 10 mile hike and snake hunting for the kids!), all bets are off, and don’t waste anybody’s time.  “Thanks, but we’re busy” is better than showing up and ruining it for the others, or for somebody who would have jumped at the chance to hunt rattlers with their kids.
  6. Don’t assume it’s about you.
  7. Don’t assume it’s NOT about you.
  8. If you’re gonna go, decide that it’s gonna be a different kind of Fun.  Then have that fun.  You’ll be home before you know it.
  9. Shit happens, and it will happen to you, so just be flexible enough to let it bounce off of you, and not so rigid that when the shit hits it sticks to you for a long time.
  10. Sometimes you have to Go in order to prove why you should never have to Go again.

And a bunch of other stuff.  I learned that I can drive a 30′ trailer with skill, make friends with just about anybody who isn’t a complete mental apocalypse bunker, and that some folks cannot be trusted with your kids.  Plus I went 7-3 in 10 hands of Apples-to-Apples to come back from having ZERO green cards to win my first game in a year.  Then I quit playing, undefeated, POWER DRINKING AT THE PUPPET STAGE, SEE YA.

apples_to_apples_cards_19869.nphd

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